Palestwinians.

Pilot.

"We know too well, that our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians." - Nelson Mandela 

Chapter 1 - Pilot

As I struggled to run and keep my footing steady against the numerous branches sprouting from the floor, I wondered for the umpteenth time how I had managed to get myself into this situation. My breath came out in laboured gasps and I faintly recognised how the wind was whipping my face as I ran, causing my hijab to flap around me unattractively.

I stopped abruptly and spun on my heels, turning to see if the beast was still after me.

Thankfully, it wasn't. 

I began walking at a slower pace to catch my breath, when after a few seconds, I heard rustling to my right side. On instinct, my head snapped to the side and I began backing away quickly, stumbling over my feet a few times.

The beast was there, staring at me with its beady black eyes! I began to run at full speed, cursing under my breath when I suddenly slammed into something hard.

Or someone. Thankfully it was only Zach, my best friend and life saver at this very moment!

"Woah," he said, almost flying backwards.

"Run, quick! That beast has been after me for twenty minutes already!" Annoyingly enough, he began to chuckle. He stopped right in front of the beast, grabbed a stick from the ground and threw it a few metres. 

It then ran away.

I stared at him wide-eyed.

He looked at my face and chuckled again, his dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. "Wow that was dangerous. See how that dog attacked me Yasmine," he voiced sarcastically.

My truck sized ego didn't allow me to laugh along with him, so I glared at him and mumbled a thank you as I walked past his broad form. 

Since Zach and I live very close, we began walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping us. Whilst everyone chose the safety of their home at this time, I much preferred this; looking out at the sunset, the orange and red hues fusing together before disappearing cunningly into the horizon. 

Exhaling tiredly, I glanced at Zach. He had his hands in his pockets ad was staring at the sky, just as I had.

See, when you've been best friends with someone for over six years, you begin to know them like the back of your hand. And right now I knew, that as Zach and I observed the world above us, we were both thinking about the same thing; the future. 

We envision a time when Palestine will be free. A time when, our now dispersed family, return to Gaza, smiles on their faces. Where kids and families can wake up and not worry about when the next bulldozer is going to show up or what building will be blown up next.

"Hey," I say, softly.

Snapping out of his reverie, he directed his attention on me. His green eyes were filled with so much intense emotion. Of anger. Of longing. Of worry. The air around us was buzzing as our fierce desire for justice began to emerge.

"One day Insha'Allah." I give him a smile, not only reassuring him, but myself too. Growing up, my parents always taught me to never lose hope, to always remember that Allah SWT is there and he knows. He knows everything. 

And even though that was always our comfort, the one thing that kept our spirits up, it was inevitable that thoughts about what our future would really be like weaved themselves in every now and then. Would we be dead five years from now? Would we ever get to graduate and follow our passion and dreams? Would we ever get married? Have kids? Grow old? 

It was a cycle of 'what ifs' but we never let it affect us strongly enough to disturb reality. If anything, the thought that we could die at any moment encouraged us to live our days out as if it really were our last.

"In shaa Allah." At his low mumble, I turn to face him again.

I knew full well that Zach and I weren't supposed to be out here alone, but hey, this idiot was the one that somehow found me. 

He does that a lot.

I remember when I was 11 years old, I had tricked one of the Israeli soldiers causing them to fall flat on their face. I was laughing so hard I barely registered the fact that I should be running. When I did however, the soldier was already hot on my heels and somehow Zach had come out of nowhere with a rock and hit him on the back of the head. Within seconds he was unconscious.

That somehow became our routine; I cause trouble and he saves my butt.

That incident was years ago, when the seige on Gaza, our city, had not been in full force and citizens were still allowed to travel into the West Bank. I had met Zach that day, in the city of Jerusalem, both of us happening to be visiting there on holiday, but both residing in Gaza. 

"I'm hungry. I wonder what your mum made to eat."  I turned to him with a dry expression on my face. 

"Why don't you go home and see what your mum made to eat?" 

He grinned boyishly. 

"You're just annoyed that I always get the good pieces. The crunchy potato. The end part of the garlic bread." I turned to glare at him and he smirked, knowing full well that is exactly what annoyed me. Jerk.

"I am not a Jerk." Huh?

"No you did not say that out loud." I groaned loudly and began to walk faster. All I could hear was chuckling behind me.

Allah you've given me patience for 6 years, please extend it a little more. 

 *****

Definitions:

Allah: God

InshAllah: If god wills