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Essay: My dangerous town

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  • Subject area(s): Literature essays
  • Reading time: 4 minutes
  • Price: Free download
  • Published: 23 January 2019*
  • File format: Text
  • Words: 1,026 (approx)
  • Number of pages: 5 (approx)

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It was a cold and distressing morning just like every other morning, The past 6 years have shown me several such days, it ended only in disappointment. With a sigh, he scanned the room. A mix of city grime and smoke, which gave the walls a greyish hue. Which led to the paint below the air-conditioner to peel off in strips like the after-effects of a bad sunburn, clueless he sat alone. He was stuck; just as stuck as the spots on a Dalmatian. So after countless hours on end reflecting over and over. He finally realised to stop viewing this as a loss, a downgrade. But to view his past as a gift. The past 6 years were not kind to me. I have gone through a lot of suffering and harassment.
 
I was born in October 1964, inseparable from Mum and Dad. Everyone in the small town of Deir Ez-Zor would agree. An audience, always presents around me, from as early as three a small crowd gathered around to hear and see my gift. So I began to nurture it, devote my life to it, and grow my love for the people. I viewed this gift, like a singer, sweet and graceful singing a symphony of 2 ballroom dancers floating across the dance floor. Such love surrounded me but peace quickly changed.

My parents sold everything.

Daddy sold his car, land and properties, even the shoes he wears.

My Mum sold all her jewellery. The most important piece of Jewellery in our family, a family necklace, that had travelled through 4 generations of her family. The necklace had been given to her on the day of my Mother and Fathers Wedding day which was 25 years ago. It was worth so much more than we had ever even known. But she sold it to the market for 51 pounds, is the best deal she had found, so we took the deal. All of our priced possessions for an obviate price.

Life became more of a crime to live, in order for me and my brothers to live better, and away from the now dangerous city. I was dodging bullets and watching my every step.These people were ruthless strong and were killing anyone they possibly could. I saw babies around me and was reminded of my baby brother that mother was protecting in her stomach underneath her dress. I was young and naive. Mother and Father gathered all their money, counted right down to the penny, and kept on selling more stuff including their clothes, kitchen appliances, and herb plants in our backyard until they finally had enough. Mum and dad bought my brothers and I tickets to a better life.

My eldest brother led the way. He would run stealthily ahead, checked if the coast was clear, and we would trail behind him. About an hour of running while evading and hiding, we reached the meeting point, right at the foot of a hill with a huge tree completely overshadowing our ride; a black boat, which looked like the float we used to play in when we went to the beach, many lifetimes ago.

We didn’t want to leave them behind, but mother said, they have lived long enough, and that we still have more to go.On the day we had to depart, we prayed together and for the first time, we prayed in tears.

Father had packed our things. A loaf of bread, some money, and water.On the day we had to depart, we prayed together and for the first time, we prayed in tears.

Father had packed our things. A loaf of bread, some money, and water. Mother told us to keep our most comfortable shoes and clothes. And that night, we wore them.

That night, we didn’t speak, but our hearts were beating so hard, we could all hear them beating together. The beats were fast yet steady.

Every time I close my eyes I’m forced to relive this time. I was only 14 years old, My parents never taught me the concept of death so now it was time for me to learn to survive on my own.We could see people starting to climb into the boat, and father and mother told us to run towards it as fast as we could and go.

I turned to say goodbye, but mother said it wasn’t goodbye. She told me to stick with my brothers, that she loves us all, and to have faith in Allah. My Mother reached the boat last, wheezing as she limped towards us. Her leg was cramped. The last thing my mother said to me as she placed her journal in my hands.

“You my boy, you are special, you’re a survivor Jaami, hold onto this book, you are the only bit of peace in this world.”My mother didn’t know another world outside of Syria.

I shook her and shook her ‘Mumma Mumma come on you’ve got to get up. I can’t live without you’  I held the book in my ashy hands and sobbed in a stock of dead bodies.

I cried while running towards the boat, and saw my brother held out his hand to catch me. As soon as I grabbed his hand, he pulled me in and sat me next to him. We were all cramped now with a lot of other people.

It wasn’t cold, but I was shivering. I wasn’t the only one. The lady who sat beside me was also shivering and whimpering. I noticed that she was holding her small child who looked confused with all the quiet rushing and hushed voices.

Suddenly, people started to stop talking and it felt as if we stopped breathing too. We were as silent as the night. And then, the boat started to move very smoothly with the current.

I dared myself to look back at where mother and father was but saw nothing. We had drifted quite a distance and it was too dark to see anything. The only light available was the moon and its reflection on the sea water.

By Adiel Mkolo

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