A girl's life destroyed by a war. A boy's life destroyed by an earthquake. They travel on a road towards the unknown.


4. THREE//Amira

Syria 2:48 P.M

The town square was a disaster. Fires were burning everywhere. Children were screaming for their parents and I was just sitting in the corner, waiting for someone to come and rescue me. But I knew that was not going to happen. It won’t. Nobody would just stop running to save a little girl in the corner. These types of situations really showed who cares about you and who doesn’t.

I left my corner and tried to follow the crowd to wherever there were going. People would break off when they saw their family and friends. I saw no one I recognized. No one from my family and friends could be seen from where I was. I kept an eye out for anybody that I could even remotely recognize but nothing.

I just went with the large group of people that was scrambling to get as far away from here as they could. Nobody came to help me. I was just another person in the mob. There was nothing I could do. My family was dead. My teacher was dead. I didn’t know anything about my aunt ot other family members.

The sun was setting and the horizon was tinged with light orange. The people had started slowing and had slowed their pace to a brisk walk. I hadn’t heard a bomb for hours and desperately wished there were done with them.

I broke off at around 9 PM and huddled up in a corner. My legs were sore and my feet hurt form the continuous walking.

I did not want to stay here. I was scared that something would happen in the middle of the night. I glanced around to see if there was anyone else here with me. I saw no one in the dark. I was alone for the night.

My breathing became fast and my gut became tight. I did not want to stay by myself and be alone during the night. Anything could happen to me. I could be snatched, kidnapped, and shot.

I curled up my legs more and tried to go to sleep so that morning would come faster and I would not have to worry so much.

I could still here shouts and yells in the near distance. I heard muffled sobs and wretched yells.

I covered my ears and tried to block out the sounds. I started dozing off and soon fell into a taut sleep.


I squinted against the sunlight coming from above. I pried my eyes open and blinked. My cheek was wet with drool and some had dropped onto my shirt. I wiped my face and continued down the path I was going on last night.

There was no one on it and I heard no shouts, no yells, no sobs, and no sounds of tears. I cocked my head to one side and strained to hear something, some sound of life. I heard nothing. I walked down the path for hours before I saw an abandoned café. The walls were covered in ashes and soot. To my giddiness, there was still left over food on the shelves under the glass. I lifted up the glass and took out assorted pastries and dried fruit. I gratefully swallowed them down. I stocked up on food and stuffed them into my pockets because who knew where else I could get food. There was probably a big chance there wasn’t any other place for food in a long time.

I continued to walk down the gravel pathway and soon my feet were starting to hurt. I didn’t want to stop now; I wanted to get away from this town. I had lost everybody in this town. My sister, my mom, and my dad. Even my teacher. She was the one who introduced me to books so I could read. Our country was against girls learning. Me going to school was a huge risk. My teacher stood up for me when I was bullied by some of the boys. She told me to stay strong through hard times and not let people come in the way of my dreams. And now she was gone. With her I felt stronger and more confident but now I feel just like a little girl and a fool for thinking she could conquer her fears and her dreams.

Reflecting back on these memories and thought made me cry. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and dropping onto the rocky ground. I stopped and sat down against a wall of a building. I cried for hours while thinking about my family and all the wonderful that happened to me during the years like my first day of school. I was 7 when I entered my school building for the very first time. My teacher welcomed me and showed me around the school. I met all the kids for the first time. Some of the boys taunted me and told me I could never become who I wanted to be and I could never follow my dreams because I was a girl. I tried to ignore them but they went to the point where they threw their lunch at me as I passed them through the hall.

That memory made me cry even harder. I pressed my hands against my eyes. I tried to stand up but my tears made my eyes sight blurry and I could not see anything. Once I was up properly, I started walking slowly down the road.

I had to be strong for my family, my sister, my teacher, and all the people who chose to become my friends. With a new determination, I fisted my hands and stomped my way down the road. There was a curve up ahead and I was scared of what might be there to greet me. A friend? An enemy? An ally? I could not tell. When I turned the corner I found that I was worrying for nothing. I was just tense about everything.

I needed to calm down. I needed to be strong.


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