The day that my father picked me up at elementary school [STRIKE]happened [/STRIKE] was when I was only nine years old. For the first three years of school, [STRIKE]back to home,[/STRIKE] going back home after class, was the same [STRIKE]way[/STRIKE] (routine). My mother or my father [STRIKE]took[/STRIKE] picked me up by car, and I returned [STRIKE]to[/STRIKE] home safe and comfortable.[STRIKE] In[/STRIKE] On a pleasant afternoon, everything was different. It happened like this.[STRIKE] Like[/STRIKE] Usually, after class I [STRIKE]went[/STRIKE] would go to the front door of the school looking out for my parents’ car. For ten minutes, I saw my friends [STRIKE]went[/STRIKE] left for [STRIKE]to[/STRIKE] home. [STRIKE]More [/STRIKE] After more than twenty minutes waiting[STRIKE] and[/STRIKE] no one showed up. Many things went through my head: from being abandoned at school to monsters [STRIKE]have attacked [/STRIKE] attacking my family. I was only a nine-year[STRIKE]s[/STRIKE] old child with an extraordinary imagination.