Shadow of Resistance

Chapter Thirty

I catch a whiff of a unique, soothing scent, fresh and calming, like a gentle breeze carrying the fragrance of flowers in bloom. It feels strangely familiar, pulling me from the depths of sleep. As I open my eyes, I find myself in our living room, and a soft, glowing light streams in from the window, far brighter than I ever remember it being.

I glance around and notice someone in front of me. It's my mother, walking toward me wearing a beautiful long white dress. The scent intensifies as she approaches, enveloping me in its warmth and comfort. Her presence fills the room, and for a moment, all the pain and sorrow melt away.

I see her face with a warm, comforting smile, the kind that always made me feel that everything will be okay. She looked exactly as she had before, her eyes full of love and kindness, her hands gentle as she reached out to touch my cheek.

"It's okay, my dear," she whispers, her voice as soothing as ever. "I'm always with you, no matter what happens."

My heart races, pounding in my chest as I struggle to believe what's happening. I stand silent looking at her face holding the same hand I held when she died, feeling the warmth that I thought I'd lost forever.

"I know the weight and the responsibility are too heavy, but I am sure that you have what it takes." She says. Her words are like a balm to my aching soul. "Don't ever skip your prayers or Quran lessons, and always make sure your siblings don't either."

I can only nod, overwhelmed by emotion, and then I pull her into a hug, holding on as tightly as I can, knowing this might be the last time. The scent of her, the warmth of her embrace, it's all so real, so vivid.

But as I hold her, I feel her slipping away, the light beginning to fade. I close my eyes, trying to memorise every detail, every word, every feeling, until I'm left with nothing but the lingering fragrance and the echo of her voice in my heart.

I wake up and find myself back in the school room, lying on the hard floor beside my sleeping siblings. The dream lingers in my mind, and I can still feel the warmth of my mother's embrace.

Quietly, I get up and head to the bakery down the street to get some breakfast. When I return, I gently wake my siblings, and as we sit together, sharing the simple meal, I tell them about the dream I had. One by one, they begin to share their own dreams from the night, and I realise that our mother had visited each one of us.

After we finish eating, I try calling Sarah again, but her phone is still unreachable. Worry gnaws at me, but I push it aside, hoping she's alright.

"I'm taking the car and heading back home. I'll try to find some clothes or mattresses and bring them back," I tell Omar, already preparing myself to go.

Omar stands up, determined. "I'm coming with you," he says.

I turn to him, frustration evident in my voice. "We can't both go, Omar. We can't leave them here alone. You have to stay and look after them."

He hesitates, concern flashing in his eyes, but he knows I'm right. With a reluctant nod, he sits back down.

When I arrive back home, I gather some items that could be useful for us. Then, I head to my dad's shop, hoping to find some money. Inside, I go straight to the safe and find a decent amount. Even though the workers worked only for a week this month, I pay them their full wages. We're at the beginning of a war, and God knows when it will end or when the shop will open again. It's the least I can do for them in these uncertain times.

I gather the remaining materials from the shop and head back to the school. As I walk in, I immediately notice that the number of refugees has increased significantly. I expected it to rise, but not at this rate. When I finally reach our room, I'm surprised to see another family has joined us, their few belongings piled up in the corner. I look at Omar in shock.

He quickly rushes over and whispers, "I'm sorry, they came and asked if they could stay with us. I couldn't say no."

I smile and place a reassuring hand on his back. "No, no, of course. I understand. The situation outside is getting worse and worse. Where else would people go? You did the right thing. I was just surprised."

The family is a 40 year old man with his two daughters, both of whom look to be about the same age as Mariam and Jasmine. I greet them warmly and introduce myself and my family. They do the same, and I call the others over so we can all sit together and get to know each other. The man is called Salah and the little girls are called Bisan and Hind.

The girls hit it off almost immediately. Before long, they're laughing and chatting like old friends. Soon after, they ask if they can go outside to play, and I nod, glad to see them finding some joy in such difficult times.

He asks us about our story and how we ended up here. I share everything with him, the pain, the loss, the struggle. It feels nice to speak out loud with someone about my feelings.

When I finish, Omar looks at him and asks, "What about you?"

He begins, his voice trembling as he tries to hold back the tears. "My wife, our triplets, and I were all sleeping in the same room last night. I woke up to the loud sound of a near explosion. I looked over to find a massive rocket fragment lodged in my wife's neck..." His voice falters as the tears start to fall. "She was gone, just like that. I looked to one of my daughters, who was sleeping beside her, and saw her screaming in agony, her face was covered in fragments. The other two had smaller injuries, but they were crying, terrified."

He pauses, his body shaking with grief. "I grabbed my most injured daughter and ran downstairs, the other two following close behind. I was hoping, praying that I could save her, but she died in my arms before I even reached the street. My little girl... she died in my arms." He collapses into tears, the weight of his loss too much to bear.

We stared at him in stunned silence, struggling to comprehend the depth of his pain. The loss he described felt unimaginable.

He wiped his tears and continued, his voice quieter now. "After that, we went to the hospital to get the fragments removed from Bisan and Hind. They also found several fragments lodged in my own body, but I hadn't even noticed. Everything was so chaotic, I didn't feel anything. We came here after burying them. I'm doing everything I can to distract my girls, to help them not dwell on what they've seen. But no words can truly capture how devastating it is for a ten-year-old to witness their twin sister and mother die like that."

I placed my hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Thank God that Bisan and Hind are now safe and healthy," I said gently. "From now on, we're all family here. They have brothers and sisters in us."

He nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude, though the pain remained.