Alban Berisha, 12 years old, Fushë Kosovë
I will never forget as long as I live what happened to my uncle, my mom?s brother. One afternoon as I was coming home I saw a dead body in front of our house. The man had been killed and his body was covered with blood and dirt. I was shivering. When I went upstairs I saw my father talking to his brother about the dead man I had just seen. The Serbs had killed him and thrown him in our front yard. He was my mom?s brother. This was kept secret from my mom. Not only from mom, but from all the women of our family. The men didn?t want women screaming in the house because there were Serbs walking around outside. But I couldn?t keep it secret. I told my mom that the dead body outside was her brother. She held her mouth and closed herself in her room for a couple of hours. I believe she was crying in there, but not screaming.
Later my father, along with his mom, entered mom?s room and talked to her. My grandmother said to her: ?Be brave! Your brother died for Kosova.? My mother didn?t say anything.
The next day, my family found it very hard to bury my uncle. Serb police were all over the place. My father knew that they were looking for him too. Finally only my grandfather and my mom buried him.
When my grandfather came back home from the burial, he was alone. He told me that my mother couldn?t come home because she was afraid of the Serbs. She stayed at her mom?s house, which was closer than coming home.
The next day the Serb police forced us out of our home. They were wearing masks. We left home without my mother. We went to Blace, Macedonia. The Macedonian police treated us very badly, as if they were Serbs.
We stayed in Blace for five days before we were accepted by the camp at Stankovec. The Red Cross helped us find our mom. She was in Stankovec when we got there. I was very happy about this. We hadn?t seen her for two months.