I lay, on the cold concrete ground. In whats left of my broken down home. Its not a new feeling, my house has been like this for months. No water, no food. Nothing.
It's not a sad feeling though. After I've lost so much, I feel like nothing else can destroy my already destroyed soul.
It's just my parents, my baby brother and myself left now. My two sisters got decapitated trying to save our neighbours children. The kids already lost their parents prior to that.
I often wonder how it feels like to be orphaned.
I must say, my brother and I are quite lucky to still have our parents.
I stare into the cloudless sky. The stars shone brighter than they ever have before.
I slowly close my eyes, ready to fall asleep, when I hear screams. Such a familiar sound.
My parents run outside to see what the chaos was about. I peek through the hole in the wall.
A night of shooting stars. Or should I say, a night of missiles and bombs. It's not as scary as it sounds. Well to be honest nothing scares me anymore. I've probably seen all that there is to see.
I awaken my baby brother, and carry him outside. The second we breathe the dusty air, a green missile heads our way. I try to remember what my parents instructed me to do. They said I should take my brother and run to a safer place. But there's no point really. Every soul will taste death, so why not now ?
I stand there vunderably. My brother crying over my shoulder, screaming "Ismail, Ismail, my life is over. I love you".
We hug each other as we watch the missle. It hit about two blocks away from us.
My last thought was that maybe our family will finally be reunited in heaven. My eyes then close.
I wake up the next morning unexpectedly. Im quite shocked to actually be alive.
I look around, trying to find my family.
I notice these two bodies covered with a white cloth. I take a deep breath and pray to Allah (swt) that it's not them. I was wrong. It's my parents.
At least they died trying to help others right ? But its because of their bravery that my brother and I are now orphaned. I notice my parents holding hands. I guess their souls were truly inseparable until their last moments.
I kiss them both on the cheek. And cover their faces. For a 10 year old boy, who just lost his parents, I should be crying right ? But im not. I guess I knew this day would come.
I then look for my baby brother Layaan. He's only 5 years old and I doubt he made it.
At that very moment I thought I was alone. I have no family left. I have no home. I have nothing.
I immediately fall and burst out in tears. I scream into the sky. "WHY ME?" With tears dripping down my face. I think. My family is probably reunited in heaven. And im alone. I have no one.
I curl up into a ball, and cry alone, in sorrow.
I feel something stroking my back. I jump up in shock. Its my brother. Alhamdulillah. I get up and squeeze him. We sit in silence. And then he finally speaks. "I saw mum and dad, they looked happy. They must be having a good time in Jannah, so don't cry, because we'll meet them there soon". Such a young boy, yet so wise.
With our entire neighbourhood destroyed. The best thing to do was walk to a safer place.
We walk, we walk for hours. Barefoot, dehydrated and starving. Injured and cut. Orphaned and alone.
