The sun pleasantly beamed across the horizon, awakening me, with the clouds

drifting away not too far. Straightening my tie and buckling my suit, I reached for
Amir, my only son. I lifted him into the air, his cheerful smile and giggle
reverberated throughout the room. I stared into him, reminding myself why I
why I ache after work, why I sacrifice so much and why I love so unconditionally.
His childhood was contrary to mine, full of ease and tranquility. I reminisced of
the starving days, the endless nights, the aerial bombings, the conflict, the war,
the torture.

***

The chilly morning struck me as I felt my blanket being stripped away. Omar, my
younger brother, decided to snatch it off me in the middle of the night. I lifted
myself onto the head of the bed, sitting in silence. I pondered over our fate; we
were innocent lives in the midst of a raging civil war. Death became common as
thousands of lives were added to the endless count of bodies. Tears trickled down
my cheek as I remembered my mother’s vibrant smile and joyful vibe she
expressed for us even through harsh times like these. She was gone now and
things started to become unbearable. The cold. The thirst. The starvation. Our
bodies resembled broomsticks as we clung to every last drip of water.

I was conscious this day would come, the day where we would struggle for our
own lives; the day where death would chase us. My father abruptly stormed in,
“Couldn’t you hear me calling you Ali? WE MUST LEAVE NOW, QUICKLY!”, he
cried. A swarm of panic flooded the room as I tumbled down the bed. What’s
wrong with… -But I obeyed him; no questions asked. I gripped Omar under my
forearm as I snatched my backpack. We followed our father, who anxiously
slammed the door open, running for a nearby avenue. Rubble and concrete were
substituted for pathways. Our ears were disturbed by an unusually loud sound. I
looked into the sky, only to see a military jet meandering in circles. I clenched
Omar to my chest as our hearts thudded against each other. He cried in
acceptance of death, I saw the look on his face- so innocent yet holistically aware
of his end. Nervously, I scanned the town as a thunder of desperation struck all.
Children and families were tactically running through narrow passages, others
even crawled. Pools of gushing blood and endless lacerations swirled around me.
The grief and suffering of a nation crushed my shoulders, and I could no longer
bear it. Omar continued to weep as the endless sounds of blasts amplified
themselves, tumbling buildings and homes as if they were toys. We continued
bolting around corners and alleyways, with every last breath in an attempt to
escape. “This way!”, father bellowed as he directed us towards a narrow
underground tunnel. We came to a halt as I glanced over my shoulder, spotting an
elderly woman crushed by a mountain of debris. I exchanged troubled looks with
her as she desperately cried for help-but there was no going back. Men, women
and children swarmed out of their households like bees, towering over the
woman as they hysterically sobbed like infants. Father was further ahead in the
tunnel, it was time to catch up.

The rough rubble wore away at the soles of my undersized shoes. I could feel the
friction eating away at my skin.

I couldn’t walk anymore.

I grew restless, hungry and exhausted as we neared midnight. The poor

ventilation and shared, antique torch made matters worse. I convinced father
that an hour’s sleep would not inflict any harm as we collapsed onto the ground,
falling fast-asleep within minutes.

I awoke to my thirst. Forcing myself up as I saw that father was awake too. He
leaned his head to one side. It was time to move on.

The silence and emptiness of what were some of the nation’s most bustling cities
was difficult to comprehend. It didn’t seem real, how could a whole country
crumble because of differences? In the end, my nation was destroyed, and so
were its people-all for nothing.

I indulged in the scene of the sun rising as it inspired hope within me. Its rays
were elegantly transmitted across the landscape. Father peered back at us,
pointing ahead as he grinned from ear to ear. He directed our vision to a distant
gate. I squinted, looking closely, only to realise it was the border. My eyes
sparkled as tears of joy streamed down my face. I grasped Omar, who cheekily
grinned as we ran whilst our hair swayed with the wind.

***

I reciprocated the moment as I stared into the distance, grinning as Amir sat on
top of my shoulders. He was innocent of all of this.

I dreamed of having his childhood, without pain, without suffering. But then I
remembered my mother’s voice, “for we do not appreciate anything until it is
taken away from us”. I look back now, and it all makes sense.