The Night in The Basement

The Night in The Basement


“This isn’t good,” my father said listening to the explosions that were coming from the outside. He seemed worried and there was a trace of fear in his eyes. He has always been a brave
man and very optimistic and seeing him like this was making me disturbed.

“They are bombarding us again,” my mother said in a low voice.

“But, it seems more serious now.”My father continued.

They both looked scared. And when my grandfather, who was sitting outside on the porch, came inside shaking his head I knew it was time to go hide in the basement.

Our house was the strongest built house in the whole village. My grandfather built it after the World War II. The in ground basement was built from the stone and the first floor had a triple brick walls. His father’s house was burned during the war and he lived in a barn until he finally built his own house. My father did not like the old-fashioned style, and a few years before Yugoslavia fell apart and its Republics went to war he decided to renovate it. He built one extra floor to add more space. The new ceiling was made of concrete instead of the old material that my grandfather used. Inside the concrete were the iron wires to make it stronger. My father was very proud of his work.

The basement was the safest place from the grenades and it provided a great refuge for the
family all the time. If they had enough time to get there, our neighbors would come to hide with
us too. I often slept in there with my family and friends. My grandmother, who suffered a stroke few days after we heard that the war had started, was unable to walk. So she was spending most of the time in the basement where we felt she was safe.

As I walked downstairs I felt lucky that we had such a place to hide and I wished that
everyone else from the village would get there in time. Soon, my wish came true. The room
quickly became full of people. I scanned the room to make sure everyone was there and noticed
that my cousin’s wife and his little daughter were missing.

“My wife and the baby are still in the house!” my cousin started to panic. “I was in the barn and thought that they already came here.”

“I’ll go get them,” I said willfully and passed by my father who was trying to stop me. I knew it was dangerous, but I could not just sit there and do nothing.

I opened the door and peeked outside. It was quiet for a moment and then I heard a loud
crash. I fell back on the floor. The explosion blew me away from the door and as I fell I hit my head. The dull pain in my head did not stop me from getting up. As I opened the door again my cousin stumbled inside carrying the baby with her.

“My God...! It... almost fell on us.” She stuttered. “We fell on the ground and the dirt was all over us. I thought we were dead.” She sobbed. I hugged her and the baby and we walked down the stairs grateful that we were alive.

All the work that needed to be done had to wait on such days. Even the animals could not be
fed, and you never knew if they would be alive after the attack. I sat in the corner thinking of all the things in the world that I could be doing at the time. I wanted to go to school, have a job and drive a car. But no! I had to spend my time in the dark basement waiting for my destiny. I did not want to live like that. I tried not to cry, but tears just kept running down my face.

Sudden voices that came from the outside, made me came back to the reality which I wanted
to forget about so badly. Everyone sensed what was going on out there. Yet, no one said a word.
The words were not needed in such situations. We knew that they were in the village. We knew
that if they were to find us, we were going to be dead.

No! I wanted to scream. I did not want to die, not like this. The voices from the outside have become louder. Somebody was giving orders.

“Go! Go! Burn and slaughter everything that moves!”

The though of a horrible death made me sick in my stomach. I covered my eyes and started
praying. I prayed with tears coming down my face. Dear God, help us now. Only You can help
us, and no one else.

The voices coming from the outside kept going away and coming back. They were running
around trying to find us. It was a matter of time before they found out about our little haven. I heard them walking above our heads, cursing and yelling outrageously. I held my breath as everybody else did. Then, everything became silent.

No one dared to move or even blink. Even the baby was quiet. I looked around the room and
saw the hollow faces and the tired eyes full of fear. The silence was unbearable. Were they really gone or was it just something we wished for? Will they come back to search the house once again?

The time was passing and nothing happened. I did not dare to hope for it to be over. I
wanted to thank God for not letting them see us. But, the words could not escape my lips.

I did not know what time it was. I listened to the sounds from the outside and could not hear anything. The room was hot. There was about thirty people, and the heat was becoming
unbearable. Everyone felt it and started wiping the sweat off of their faces. I wished I could
stretch my legs and get some fresh air. The cracking sounds that were coming from above our
heads were making me sleepy. Why was it so hot in the room?

“The house is burning,”someone whispered. Everyone’s eyes went upward. The ceiling was
becoming red and the heat was coming from the above. Oh, my God! We were going to burn in
the house. And I though we have escaped one horrible death. If only I could fall asleep I would not have to see my own death or feel it.

My cousin’s baby started crying. It was too hot in the room and the poor child could not take it anymore. She did not know about the danger that we were in. All she knew was that she was uncomfortable. I looked at the ceiling with hope. It was made of concrete and could not burn. But the heat was making the iron wires melt. It was a matter of time before it falls down on us.

I closed my eyes once again trying not to think of what would it feel like. I knew the end was
coming and did not want to think about it. Life was just too hard to go on like this. At that
moment the death seemed to be our only escape. The only way out of this anguish.

I woke up with the sounds of rain and thunder. I could not remember when I fell asleep. The first thing I remembered was the fire. I looked up at the ceiling. It had a big crack in the middle and was hanging down. The rain was dripping through it. I looked around the room and saw my father sitting up holding his knees close to his chest. His glaze was empty. I wanted to get up and hug him but did not want to disturb others.

Later that day, after everyone was awake, my father presented his plan. We had to leave the village and go deeper inside the free country. It was a dangerous thing to do but we had no choice. The village was destroyed and we did not have homes anymore. The plan was to leave at night and travel through the night and rest during the day. It was safer this way because we would not be seen. We spent the day in the basement and in the evening we were ready to leave. My father had already checked the outside and there was no one around.

We traveled for days and finally made it to the free city, exhausted but happy to be alive. A lot of us found a home there and decided to stay while the others moved away to the other cities searching for their relatives. Our lives continued, but we never forgot who we were and where we came from. Most of all, we never forgot how close we once came to the death.