What's the Worst That Could Happen? - Awareness Story

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

    

 "He... They let him leave?" Esme asked, very evidently stunned as her mom nodded.

There was clanking coming from the kitchen, along with the sound of the tap water running. It must've been Abe making coffee.

"We don't know how he managed to do it yet. It's not like... He's spoken since." her mother swallowed hard, "And I don't blame him."

"...Why? What happened? Where's Dalia?" Esme raised an eyebrow. Deep inside she already knew the answer and it was one she dreaded, but she decided to remain hopeful. Her mom stared at her incredulously.

"Are you feeling okay sweetie?" she asked, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't remember?... We called you."

"...Right." Esme forced out, clearing her throat, "About how aunt Dalia..."

"...Didn't make it..? Remember that...?" her mother just confirmed all her worries. Her aunt was dead.

"But... But how..." Esme stuttered.

"That much is obvious, darling... We don't know how your uncle made it out alive, he's lucky to be here with us... If the state he's left in is even considered lucky." her mom shook her head.

"So she's... She's dead?..." she just refused to believe it.

"Yes. I'm sorry. This is hard on all of us." Anne struggled to remain collected. "Dalia and their baby...-"

"Their baby?" Esme's eyes widened ten times more than before. It felt like she just had taken another stab to the heart.

"Dalia was 2 months pregnant. We also mentioned that... Must be the shock."

"Yeah... Yeah, that... That must be it." Esme's voice was barely audible.

She had just lost an aunt and cousin in less than 24 hours. She might as well have lost an uncle as well, considering the state he was in. So had her sister. Her dad had lost his brother, and it would be nearly impossible to find him again. Her mom had lost her best friend and the very person who introduced her to her husband. And her uncle? Her uncle had lost everything. His entire world had flipped upside down. He felt as though he had no life to live anymore. What was the point when his family, his people, were dead? He couldn't even bear the thought that there were people back in Gaza, his deceased wife's family, that only wished to mourn their child but could not due to the war. They were forced to move on from it for now, but how can you move on when the very person who made your life meaningful had their life taken away from them? He felt empty. Dead inside. The fact that this was the second time made things even worse. He had already lost everything he had once before, when his first wife had died of cancer, when they didn't even have plans for kids yet. He thought his life had ended then, and when Dalia came into his life it was like a miracle to him. A second chance to build his life again. Completely. He felt like he had found his other half, like he could breathe again, he felt complete. And now? All of that was gone. There goes his second chance. He can't move on from this easily, if he can move on at all. It's irreparable damage. It's like his heart got ripped out of his chest. He's alive but lifeless. As if that wasn't enough, his mind was flooding with all the horrible things he saw back in Gaza. Mothers holding their deceased children in their arms mourning, bodies everywhere, the land he once had accepted as his own completely demolished, children wandering alone looking for their families amidst bomb attacks, people starving on the streets and turning so thin that their rib cages were almost entirely visible, sick people, dying people, unable to find treatment, people pleading for death, as pleading for help or mercy didn't work anymore. And there also was the constant whining and screaming and yelling and... He couldn't stop all the noise. There were two questions he couldn't stop asking himself now: Why did I survive? Is it too late to give up now?

      Esme observed him all the way as he thought. She could read his eyes, it wasn't too hard understanding what a person as broken as him thought, what was impossible was to feel it. These feelings are a burden no one wants to carry. And as she looked at him, she knew he wasn't alone sitting down in that chair. There were hundreds, thousands more, standing behind him. And every single one of them was as broken as he was. Struggling to hold on. That's the aftermath of war. That's all it does. All it is capable of. It leaves people broken, ruined. It is nothing else than a way, the worst way, to torture innocent people. And for what? Money? Power? Territory? Religion? Revenge? The list goes on. But all of the reasons why are nothing. Nothing compared to what a war does to humans. Does all of that really matter more than the millions of lives that will get lost in the way? And the other millions of people that are left traumatised afterwards? It shouldn't. The fact that there's people who believe it does, is scary. Scary, disturbing, and devastating. And the war in Gaza isn't the only war that's still ongoing. Russia and Ukraine? Sudan? That's triple the amount of lives lost and quadruple the amount of people left behind to suffer. It's a tragedy, and the will to stop any of them is barely any. Esme knew people were corrupted. She had just miscalculated how much, and it had started to freak her out.

"Hey, speaking of which..." Esme's mom spoke, snapping her out of her trance, "Didn't you have a friend called... Was it Matviy?"

Esme nodded, though surprised by the sudden question. "Why?"

"I just thought he's going through a similar situation. How's he doing?" her mom muffled anxiously.

"I haven't seen him all that much- uh. I think he's doing okay. As best as he can, I guess."

She shrugged. She wasn't being completely honest though. Matviy was Ukrainian, and due to the war everything had started going downhill for him. His father's loss had made things extremely tough for his mother who now had to take care of three kids all by herself. It was surprising to Esme at first how she never saw her though, the one taking care of Matviy and his siblings was mostly their grandma. That's who she saw all the time. After overhearing Matviy talking about how concerned he was for his mother though, it didn't need much for her to understand. She already knew she was taking a huge amount of different pills and medicine to cope. Matviy had also been having a hard time in school, especially when outsiders would come up to him and start asking about his opinion on Russia, or even 'call him out' and be mean to him when he'd hang out with someone else from Russia. Which was dumb, of course. Thinking people must hate each other because of two conflicting countries is just not the case. Not everyone in Russia, Ukraine, Israel, Palestine, Sudan is to blame for the wars. There's no winning and losing side in any of them. In a war, both sides are the losing sides. Maybe that's what no one can digest. Back to Matviy however, he was progressively breaking down himself, in short. But Esme couldn't tell her mother all that when they already had their uncle to think about. She looked at her mom as she nodded before following her inside the kitchen, sitting down across her uncle. Everyone was silent, kind of doing their own thing. Abe was still preparing the coffee, Anne was trying to think of something, anything to say to comfort Bram, Evi was on her phone, trying to avoid the awkward situation, Bram was gazing off in the distance, and Esme was sitting down, just wondering how this had happened so fast. And why she had 0 memory of any phone calls, her family leaving for the airport, or telling her anything at all. Soon enough the coffee was done, and her dad turned to grab four mugs from the cupboard to start serving it. Four as Evi dislikes coffee and prefers tea. He went around the table, handing out the mugs to everyone else before stopping in front of his brother.

"Hey do you want some coffee, Bram? Might help relax a little." Abe suggested, his voice barely audible. All Bram did in response was shake his head.

"I just want my wife and kid back."