How do you view peace?
View(s):By Saudha Shaheen
There is destruction everywhere.
Soot is all that stands on the charred remains of the houses. Smoke stains the midnight blue skies of Syria.
Rivulets of blood from the wounds of the land that once ran in plenty, have now been reduced to dried flecks under the mercy of the scorching heat of the sun. I tilt my head as I lay on the gravelly land, looking at the moon above me. On days like this, when silence reigns, the calmness deceives me. I wonder if in another part of the world, someone else is looking at the moon too. I wonder if that person knows what it means to be free? Maybe one day I’d live in a free Syria. I don’t remember the last time I went to school. It’s been 10 years since the war first star- A hum. What was that? I quickly scramble to my feet.
A hissing whistle grows in volume. A shiver runs through me. Here. They are here. The bomber jets. I need to run. I need to escape. I need to seek shelter. But, my stubborn feet refuse to move. A feeling of dread settles in my bones, the seeping coldness renders my muscles still.
“No,” I whisper.
They are headed south. To Aleppo-my home. Some would say that 10 years of my life might have made me accustomed to the piercing screech of the planes and the deafening second of silence that ensues as the bombs slowly descend the Earth. Fear has been my companion for much of my life but for the first time, I see it as the villain. for the first time in 10 years, my family lies right under the bellies of the beasts. Mama and little Suhail are there.
Adrenaline courses through me as I race to the south. Fear fuels my muscles and pounds my heart. Closer, they are getting closer. My lungs scream in agony. My skin is torn open by stones beneath my shifting feet. I need to get there. I’m so close. A few steps more. Mama. Suhail . Ma-
Light flashes in front of my eyes. My head whips up and then I see it- the blinding ring of light that stretches across the land from the epicenter of the bomb. Its done.
Boom!
A deafening roar rips through the air. I am thrown back at the force of the impact, causing my head to collide on the broken wall. My vision blackens and my world tilts as my eyelids grow heavy but no-I need to wake up. For mama. For Suhail . Blood drips into my eye . In an attempt to clear my vison, I blink once, twice, thrice and then- Oh
Fire. Everywhere . Flames engulf everything around me. Cries screech the air. With tears streaming down my check, my heart squeezes painfully at the sight around me. My house is on fire. I was too late. “I WAS
TOO LATE!” I scream.
I fall to my knees. “THEY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME. MY MAM. MY BABA, SUHAIL, “ I gasp.
A whooping cough racks my body, the smoke. “ Oh my child. Let’s get away. The fire is spreading. If you wait here the smoke will kill you,” a voice whispers.
I tilt my head up and I am met with a pair of old eyes. A doctor. “ No. they killed them. This world is not for me. I can’t survive alone.”
“Then I’m going to have to carry you,” he relentlessly persists. With all the effort I have, I try to resist, but against my will I am hauled away. “We need to hurry. Your heart is weakening.” I hear the panic in his voice.
“Uncle, let me down, I want to rest,” I croak. He does so, never letting go of my hand. “Your heart is weakening,” he repeats. I know. I feel it too. It’s the smoke. “The hospital is too far away,” he says. I know “Uncle, talk to me about something else. Tell me stories about a free Syria . I want to dream of it now.
Peace. What does it feel like?”
“Son, how do you view it? Peace.”
“Hmm. I’ve always thought about it. To me it’s those calm days we used to have dinner with mama, baba and Suhail. It’s those days when my friends and I would play together. We were all so different: from different backgrounds, races and religions, you know, Uncle? Yet, football would always unite us as one.” I whisper with my eyes closed and a smile etched on my face
“But during days like today, I feel that peace is about the rest of the world uniting against tyranny. Against forces of oppression that seek to sow seeds of division, against those that tore me from my family. I have hope, Uncle. In the future, I know that peace shall prevail above all,” my voice fades.
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