{Victim}
Dear Journal,
I was 9 years old when the Serbians bombed Bosnia. I was in my room with my sissy doing homework. My mom and grandma were in the kitchen making dinner, and father and brother were outside playing. Sissy and I were going to go outside to play with father and brother, but we decided to clean the room. A life changing decision. While we were cleaning, we heard numerous loud bangs. Since the rest of the family didn’t hear it, we thought it was just us. They kept getting louder, but we paid it no mind; this a decision that we will regret forever. There was one particular loud bang we heard that gave out smoke, and then we saw fire. After that we heard screams, loud screams of the citizens, neighbors, and most importantly from the family. Sissy and I tried to go to them, but a fire blocked our way, so we had to mend on our own. We decided to hide under the bed. We both scrambled to get under it and, without noticing, we saw the bed was on fire. The bed collapsed on our legs. Sissy was able to get out, but I was stuck. I tried to keep my eyelids open, but they eventually closed. I could still hear Sissy crying and telling me to get up, but my mouth couldn’t move. And then I could hear nothing more. I woke up to a loud noise ringing in my ear, babies crying, and a doctor leaning over me. He told me about my burns that I didn’t even know about. He also told me about my sissy who was lying right next to me still sleep. He told us we had to get a procedure done on our legs. After the procedure and we healed, we moved to Paris, France, and we have an amazing life here.
Although I have Sissy, I still miss the rest of the family. I am permanently scarred from what Serbia did to my family, but I can forgive them, and I will.
~Emira Jasic
{Aggressor}
Dear Journal,
Man, it was hard. Being from Bosnia and having to retaliate on Bosnia. I was 26 years old when Serbians bombed Bosnia. How did I get to Serbia, you ask? I sneaked out of Bosnia to see if I could get a new life and start over. I decided to join the military. I didn't think about the fact that I would have to bomb places. Places like Bosnia that I call home. Once I joined the military on the first day, they asked my where I was from. I was so close to saying Bosnia; if I had told them that, they would’ve killed me. So I lied and said I was from Serbia. They asked no questions and let me move on. I regretted moving to Serbia right as I walked through those doors, but I knew it was too late.
The day we were to bomb Bosnia, I prayed that the Lord and my family back in Bosnia would forgive me. As we were flying over and letting bombs loose, we passed my family’s house and, to my surprise, I could see my father and younger brother playing outside. The man who let the bombs loose let one out right over their house. I looked down and started crying. The Sergeant saw me and told me to get to the back of the plane. Once we landed, he asked why I was crying. I lied and said it was because of the smoke. He told me to tell him the truth. I told him that that was my family's house we bombed. That was when he found out that I was really from Bosnia. He turned me in, and I was sentenced to 15 years in jail. It was hard because every day I wondered about how my family was, and mostly if anyone made it out. I would get bullied by my inmates for crying, but if they knew what I was crying about they would understand.
I regret the fact that I moved. Even if I didn’t move, we would’ve still got bombed, but at least I would not have been the one who dropped the bomb.
~Amir Jasic
Dear Journal,
I was 9 years old when the Serbians bombed Bosnia. I was in my room with my sissy doing homework. My mom and grandma were in the kitchen making dinner, and father and brother were outside playing. Sissy and I were going to go outside to play with father and brother, but we decided to clean the room. A life changing decision. While we were cleaning, we heard numerous loud bangs. Since the rest of the family didn’t hear it, we thought it was just us. They kept getting louder, but we paid it no mind; this a decision that we will regret forever. There was one particular loud bang we heard that gave out smoke, and then we saw fire. After that we heard screams, loud screams of the citizens, neighbors, and most importantly from the family. Sissy and I tried to go to them, but a fire blocked our way, so we had to mend on our own. We decided to hide under the bed. We both scrambled to get under it and, without noticing, we saw the bed was on fire. The bed collapsed on our legs. Sissy was able to get out, but I was stuck. I tried to keep my eyelids open, but they eventually closed. I could still hear Sissy crying and telling me to get up, but my mouth couldn’t move. And then I could hear nothing more. I woke up to a loud noise ringing in my ear, babies crying, and a doctor leaning over me. He told me about my burns that I didn’t even know about. He also told me about my sissy who was lying right next to me still sleep. He told us we had to get a procedure done on our legs. After the procedure and we healed, we moved to Paris, France, and we have an amazing life here.
Although I have Sissy, I still miss the rest of the family. I am permanently scarred from what Serbia did to my family, but I can forgive them, and I will.
~Emira Jasic
{Aggressor}
Dear Journal,
Man, it was hard. Being from Bosnia and having to retaliate on Bosnia. I was 26 years old when Serbians bombed Bosnia. How did I get to Serbia, you ask? I sneaked out of Bosnia to see if I could get a new life and start over. I decided to join the military. I didn't think about the fact that I would have to bomb places. Places like Bosnia that I call home. Once I joined the military on the first day, they asked my where I was from. I was so close to saying Bosnia; if I had told them that, they would’ve killed me. So I lied and said I was from Serbia. They asked no questions and let me move on. I regretted moving to Serbia right as I walked through those doors, but I knew it was too late.
The day we were to bomb Bosnia, I prayed that the Lord and my family back in Bosnia would forgive me. As we were flying over and letting bombs loose, we passed my family’s house and, to my surprise, I could see my father and younger brother playing outside. The man who let the bombs loose let one out right over their house. I looked down and started crying. The Sergeant saw me and told me to get to the back of the plane. Once we landed, he asked why I was crying. I lied and said it was because of the smoke. He told me to tell him the truth. I told him that that was my family's house we bombed. That was when he found out that I was really from Bosnia. He turned me in, and I was sentenced to 15 years in jail. It was hard because every day I wondered about how my family was, and mostly if anyone made it out. I would get bullied by my inmates for crying, but if they knew what I was crying about they would understand.
I regret the fact that I moved. Even if I didn’t move, we would’ve still got bombed, but at least I would not have been the one who dropped the bomb.
~Amir Jasic