My Star Was A Suffering

I looked up at the pitch-black sky from behind my binoculars I made myself. Gramma said we can't buy such things when we don't even have money to buy water.
"You won't find 'your' star tonight either," said Saleh, interrupting my exploration. I started over again. Standing on my balcony, I moved binoculars from left to right from the lowest horizon up to the furthest point in the sky.
"Gramma said we shouldn't stand in the balcony late at night. It could be dangerous," said Saleh again interrupting me. But this time with concern laced into his voice.
"What's the point of staying in the room when we aren't even safe there?" I question to which he doesn't answer.
After a few moments, he snatched my binoculars and ran away into the room. He was a year older than me but less mature. I was 7 and he was 8. Our parents died in an IDF attack and our granny lost most of her eyesight. Some say it was because of a poisonous gas that was left in Gaza but Granny never talked about it. She said the terrors others experience are more than losing eyesight. She had always been so brave. She was someone who herself needed medical care but she spent all her life looking after victims of the attacks. I wished to be like Granny. But I also wished I wouldn't have to see victim, explosions and terrors all my life.
I followed and ran after Saleh into the room. Our house only consisted of a room and a balcony. Almost every day was filled with either injured warriors on the brink of death tended by my Gramma or victims of bloodshot hanging on the edge of both life and death, whom Gramma couldn't tend.
I entered the room and saw four victims lying on the floor and Gramma, who was applying ointment on a girl's badly bruised legs. There was an infant probably less than a year old, lying on the floor with its tiny chubby face covered in dirt and blood.
" Are they dead Gramma?" Asked Saleh abruptly.
"Don't say dead my son. Say reached the Heaven," Gramma replied in a monotonous tone.
" The infant's alive Gramma. He's breathing," I said after sitting beside the baby and putting my finger near his nose to detect any signs of breath.
"Yes, dear. But who knows for how long," Gramma said sadly which made me choke a tear.
" This girl is alive as well. She's got a leg broken. Just hope it gets well soon, said Gramma tending the bruised girl.
As time passed, two women from our neighbourhood came to look after the girl and three men took away their deceased parents and the infant who passed away as well after great struggle. The sight was my reality. Our reality. Nothing new. We were just living by with a hope that the One who looks after us from beyond the Heavens will provide justice to us.
Gramma gestured for me to sit beside her. I sat down with my legs pulled up and cuddled against Gramma's chest. In the meantime, Saleh joined as well so I took that opportunity to lament Gramma about him.
"Gramma, Saleh took my binoculars and said I won't see my star. Why gramma?" I looked up at Gramma's face and asked innocently.

"Because Gramma told me a story in which stars are born. They love to be born in nice places. Not like here. Right Gramma?" Saleh said abruptly. 

"Why, son weren't you born here. Don't you love your land?" questioned Gramma monotonously.

"But Gramma, there's no star here in the sky. Why, Gramma? I want to see my star," I told Gramma sadly. 

"You will see it soon, my dear. Just wait and have patience. Like everyone else here," Gramma mumbled before getting up. 

Gramma was right. Everyone here was living each day with patience. But for how long? How long will we have to suffer. What did we even do wrong. Nothing. We only wanted to live a life that's like normal life. But we can't. We can't go out fearing to be attacked. Attacked for doing what? Nothing. I wished we had actually done something. I wished...

As the night passed, some women visited us, telling us that Al-Aqsa had been attacked by IDF and they feared that the worst is yet to come. All night long, I heard Gramma reciting verses from the Quran while telling us not to go near the balcony. When Gramma and Saleh slept I couldn't resist going to the balcony.

I stood there with my binoculars unaware of what would happen next. I was only a child who had the simplest dream; to see a star in the sad, hollow sky of our lands. 

I wrinkled my eyes to see carefully. It was there. My star was there! I beamed happily and then looked again. But wait. It was moving. It was coming nearer. Is that a shooting star!. I beamed more proudly at my discovery. But as it nearer and became more clear, I figured out my discovery looked more like a jet. I dropped my binoculars on the floor and looked at the sky in terror, waiting for "my star" to crush my dreams...

                                                                             The End.

That was it, guys!

I hope that I didn't disrespect anyone ( except those who deserve it) or anything in this passage while putting a fictional on the situation of Palestinians. 

Pls, pray for them, their children and their youth who too deserve the right to life and freedom.