Eli Miller

May 18, 2016

Block 7C
Ms. Basch
A New Start
Sarah Dunham. Age 6. 1934. Transylvania, Romania.
The year was 1934. I was just getting ready to celebrate my 7th birthday by myself.
My parents were captured by those horrible dirtbags called Nazis, and my older brother was out
getting wasted with his friends, probably hoping that he drinks until he forgets whatever has
happened in his awful life. He lost both his parents, his ability to walk, and his girlfriend. All that
happened in only eighteen years. So I was all by myself, eating a cup of rice and a small piece of
bread celebrating what was supposed to be a happy day. Whatever, I knew this would happen.
After my parents were taken four months, eighteen days, and fourteen hours ago, I had been
alone the whole time. Except when my brother sometimes came home at 4 a.m. I was used to
this. Even though I didnt go to school, or have any books, or anyone close to me, I was fine.

James Smith. Age 51. 2015 (Present Day). England.

Im moving to America today. My fianc lives in Los Angeles, and I just got offered to be
CEO of a PR company based in New York. Im having some second thoughts about moving
though. My whole life is based in England. My daughters live here, how often will I be able to
see them? Well, its not all bad. Im marrying my fianc over the summer, Ill be closer to her,
itll all work out. I just hope that I wont have a tough time setting up my life there, I mean New

York is a whole new city! Plus Ill be alone most of the time in my tiny apartment which Ill
have to decorate myself. At least Ill be on my work VISA so I wont be deported or give anyone
suspicion. Getting citizenship in America is tough, I don't think Im ready to break my citizenship ties to Britain.

Sarah Dunham. Age 7. 1934. Transylvania, Romania.

It was a couple months after my supposed to be special day, and I was feeling good. I
found a chicken near my house, and was able to sell it for 201 Romanian Lei. I went to the market, and bought my brother and I enough food for a month! Now I was just sitting in my room,
reading a new book that I had bought for myself. All of a sudden, I heard a booming noise, like
an explosion. I immediately jumped up, looking frightened.
What was that?!
I shouted. I got up to look outside the window, and saw something horrible. Big tanks were driving through the streets, with armies of soldiers running everywhere, breaking into peoples
homes and murdering people in the streets. As soon as I looked at one of the tanks and saw a big
red flag with a black swastika, I was grabbed by a man wearing a grey uniform and spoke in
German.
Ahhhhhhh! Stop! Im only seven! I yelled at the top of my lungs.
The man probably couldnt understand Romanian, or just didnt care.
Wheres my brother? I thought to myself.

A few seconds later I found my answer. I saw my brother and his friends trying to fight the soldiers in the street. For a second, I had hope. I dont know why, its not like four eighteen year old
men could destroy an entire army, I was just trying to be positive.
Andrew! Andrew! I shouted.
My brother turned around and saw me. His face widened with joy.
Sarah! Are you
Andrew was shot in the shoulder by one of the Nazis.
Ah shit! Ow! Ah Ah! AHHHH!! Sarah!
He was shot again in the head. He instantly went down.
NO! G-d damnt! AHHHHH!!!
I was filled with so much rage and anger, I just wasnt thinking. I was acting like some primitive
wild animal. I kicked the soldier who was holding me, in the leg, thinking it would take him
down. I was wrong. He then whacked me in the face with his gun, and kicked me in legs so that I
would fall. I immediately fell to the ground and started to bleed from head to toe.

James Smith. Age 51. 2015 (Present Day). England.

I am supposed to board the plane in 45 minutes, but something happened. When I was
going through security, I got stopped. I was pulled aside and asked a few questions because I
wasnt an American citizen. I got asked some usual questions for non-citizens. What are you
planning to do here? How long are you going to stay? Why are you moving here? Questions like
that. I answered them and they seemed to trust me. At the end, they asked me for my work VISA.
Ok, I said.

I looked for it through my suitcase, thinking it was in the front pocket. It wasnt. I kept searching. Still not there.
What the hell? It was right here.
Sir do you have your legal work VISA that you need to get into the country? Or am I
gonna have to call security?
No you dont need to do that, please give me a few more minutes.
I kept on searching through my bag, but it wasnt there. I then began to rip out everything I had
in my suitcase. I was desperately searching for it.
Security!
Wait! I can call someone.
Right when I thought I would never get to America, I reached into my pocket to pull out my
phone, and something fell on the floor. It was my work VISA.
Here we go! Oh thank god.
Youre one lucky guy, come this way.
The security guard then showed me the way to my gate.

Sarah Dunham. Age 22. 1949. Jerusalem, Israel

I was usually not so mad, or bitter about the world. But after what I went through, I hated
most everything. After going through that horrendous Ukrainian concentration camp, I was
changed. About 70% of the people taken from Romania died from hard labor and starvation. After World War II, I went to Israel to join the air force. I served on there for about nine years and
luckily, stayed alive. After going through the war, the air force, and living in two countries that

dont really respect women, I then remembered that my sister lived in Los Angeles. I was also
feeling like I wanted to move to America. I wanted to see what it was like, being free, women
being able to do whatever they want, I wanted a new life. I bought a plane ticket heading to Los
Angeles.

James Smith. Age 51. 2015 (Present Day). United States.

I just landed in New York, happy that I had found my VISA. I was looking forward to
this day. I know I had a few worries in the beginning, but I am really excited to be living in New
York. All the people seem so nice, like they would never steal from you. I got in the cab and told
him my address for my new apartment. I am at my apartment, and I am feeling kind of lonely, so
I went to walk a couple blocks to get some coffee. I brought my wallet, phone, and just in case I
needed it, my VISA. I took the elevator down six floors to get to the lobby, and outside. It was so
pretty. The leaves on the trees hung while the sun splashed multiple rays of sunlight onto the
beautiful, inviting, and cozy spring leaves. Its like I was lost in the nature of this new, and wonderful city. As I got lost in the nature, I got a phone call. I reached my hand into the pocket of my
jeans to stop the vibrating, when I noticed only my phone was in my pocket. Not my wallet or
VISA. I checked my other pocket to find that my wallet was there. I assumed that my VISA was
too, boy was I wrong. About that, and moving to this awful thief infested city.
God dammit! I yelled. Why? Whats the point?!
I began shouting on the sidewalk, wishing I wasnt here.

Sarah Dunham. Age 31. 1958. Los Angeles, California.

I landed in L.A, excited for a new start. One thing I needed to do was get a job. I had a
little money that I received from being in the Israeli Air Force, but not much. I could barely afford a tiny apartment that was one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and a couch. It wasnt much, but I
liked living alone. I felt independent and empowered. I decided to go on the job hunt. I hand
wrote a resume showing my strengths. I was always good with tools and building stuff, so I put
that as my number one skill. I had a couple other skills but I wasnt very good at them because
they required more speaking. I barely knew any English! I went around some of the nicer neighborhoods asking anyone if they needed someone to work or build anything. Most of them probably didnt understand me through my very thick accent. After about an hour of asking random
people, one man actually listened to me. He hired me right there! He said I could start now. I
went to his house with him so I could get started.
What do you need me to build? I asked.
A windmill.
He saw that I was confused and told me why he needed one. It was for his farm outside of the
city, he said that his animals were speaking to him that they needed one.
Ok, I said. What is your name again?
Mr. Jones.
We were pulling up to his farm, and I was just amazed at how big it was. He told me to go right
to work, and I listened.

James Smith. Age 51. 2015 (Present Day). United States.

After my meltdown, I went home. I made a list of all the things I needed to do to set up
my life. Turns out, I needed my VISA for every single thing! I decided to try going to an insurance company, hoping they wouldnt ask for my VISA. I chose to risk it and go without it. I got
in a cab heading toward a life insurance company. The meeting went well, I had enough money,
and they seemed to like me. At the end, they asked for it. I told them I didnt have it, hoping they
would go easy on me. I hoped that he would be ok with it. No, I was wrong again. He called for
security to hold me, until he got the Border Patrol to come to deport me. By now I was just so
sad that I didnt really care what happened. Maybe going back to England wouldnt be so bad. I
thought about that the whole time that I was shot with a small tranquilizer gun, and being held
hostage at the airport. They sent me on a plane back to England with none of my things. I landed
at Heathrow, my head down, and having no idea what to do.

Sarah Dunham. Age 31. 1958. Los Angeles, California.

The windmill was almost finished, and I was making quite a bit of money. I led the construction of it along with a few other workers. The day before it was finished, Mr. Jones came up
to me with a smile.
Hi Sarah! I really appreciate you helping me with this. Thank you so much. And one
thing that I would like to do for you is to give you a check. I know you have asked for cash in the
past, but I would like to give you a big bonus.
Thank you so much for your offer, but I would prefer cash. I replied.

Are you sure? he remarked. I dont feel safe giving you this much cash.
No, Ill be ok. Ill just take the cash.
No, Im gonna give you a check.
Mr. Jones, please dont!
Why not? Are you hiding something? What arent you telling me?
Mr. Jones, please dont judge me by this, but Im undocumented.
Youre an illegal alien?! Oh my god Im calling border patrol! Youre going away for a
long time!
Mr. Jones pulled out his phone and called border patrol. In about five minutes, they got here and
picked me up and threw me in their car. I was then knocked unconscious, and woke up at
Heathrow Airport. I woke up sitting next to a man, who looked almost as sad and confused as
me.
The End