The Young Immigrant

The Young Immigrant by Edmund Siejka Every night he had the same dream There would be a soft knock on the door Like a friend or neighbor would do But no one was home His parents left for work Peeking through the window He saw men in bulletproof vets Frightened He ran back to his room And hid. Time slipped by Twenty minutes Then a half hour There was another soft knock on the door His mother always told him Bad things only come to bad people Telling himself not to be afraid He opened the door One of the men asked for his name And told him they had a warrant for his arrest Stunned he stood still as they cuffed his hands behind his back A neighbor watched from behind closed curtains But no one came to help. The cruel dreams always came back Like shadows slipping into his room Rough hands pressing down on his chest So hard that he couldn’t breathe. The next morning Like always His parents left for work The house was quiet And he was alone When there was a soft knock on the door Like a friend or neighbor would do But no one was home Peeking through the window He saw men in bulletproof vets Frightened He ran back to his room And hid. With innocence Comes a fear of the unknown If he remained still and didn’t make a sound The bad men Might go away But what if this wasn’t a dream?