“Please!” I whisper as the grit in my mouth hurts my tongue.
“Please!” I beg as a tiny cloud floats over my head.
“Please!” I yell as the selfish cloud mocks me and drifts away.
“Please!” I cry as I fall to the dry, dusty ground that holds my family’s future.
“Please!” I sob as a tear rolls off my cheek and soaks into the parched ground.
“Please!” I pray and hope that the tear is not the last water we see.
Gabriella Eck, age 12