Three weeks ago, my father told me we were being smuggled out of the country on a train.   Even now, as the train ground up the hill I still couldn’t believe what was happening. 

I was lost in my own thoughts when suddenly train doors flew open. My father was ripped out, just managing to grab the door.

“Here take my hand,” I shouted over the howling wind.

He grabbed it but it slipped.

“Hold on!” I said.

“ I’m trying to hold on!” he shouted. But then he was ripped away by the wind and I never saw him again.