Samrah's Stories

  As the bus screeched to a stop, my brother and I sprinted home. One hour, that’s how long we had before the front door would burst open, and our parents would be back from work. We would sit side by side, fingers flying over the keys playing Phantom Forces. It was a very cliché war game that had the same maps, gamemodes, and guns, yet for some reason I couldn't stop playing. Every weekday, from third grade to quarantine, I was obsessed. My parents? They would crash out if they knew. But in that stolen hour, every moment was sacred.