ColvenComp1RoughEulogy

John Colven March 21st will be the worst day of my life every year until the day I die. That is the day my best friend, guardian angel, role model and big brother died. It is because of him that I am alive and living well here today. I just wish we could spend this time together; the time that he worked so hard for both of us to have. Darfur, Sudan will forever be my brother and mine’s birthplace, and his death bed. He raised me by himself since I was seven years old. Our father was killed in a raid of our village and I was forced to shoot my own mother. My brother was only ten at the time, but that didn’t stop him from taking care of me and raising me to become who I am today. My brother was able to protect and feed me for six years. When I got a little older, around ten years old, he explained to me why it had been so hard for us to stay in one place and just survive in general. You see, there was a group known as the Janjaweed that rape and kill people in villages. They are run by the Sudanese Government, but the government denies that they have anything to do with it. The Janjaweed were why my brother and I were consistently running and fighting for our lives every day. On March 21st, 2008 my life turned upside down. At the village we were staying at the time, we all gathered outside of our huts and stared at the full moon. We don’t get much enjoyment with the life we lived, so we had to cherish the little things in this world. After we stared for about fifteen seconds, three large trucks drove into the village carrying men with guns. They surrounded us all and open fired. My brother and I were in the middle of the pack. He threw his body on me, tackled me to the ground and covered me so I would make a harder target to hit. Bodies fell down next to us and on top of us for what seemed like an hour. I finally heard the trucks drive away and I waited to see if I felt pain from a gunshot wound. Fortunately I was not hit. I tapped my brother to get off of me but he wouldn’t move. I feared the worst. I started screaming his name and began to cry but he would not get up. I raised his head to see his face, only to see a bullet directly in the middle of his forehead. I couldn’t do anything but cry for the next three days. I went off by myself, away from all of the villages because I just wanted to be alone. I couldn’t believe my brother was actually gone. Why did it have to be him that got killed? He was the only person I had in my life and he was taken from me. I wish our parents were still here. You will be missed Aamin. Characteristics - Who died - When - Relationship - Memories

Criteria - Significant memories - Why they are speaking for them - What was their favorite thing about them <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">- Story about a specific moment