Years pass by and there is no news of her, and because of that, we have to bury her deep in our hearts. Sometimes Baba will go out, hoping to hear some news from the neighbouring village, but eventually, we accept the fact that either she's gone for good or bad. Which we prayed to be for good.
Life continues as Sitra people adapt to start living with the new changes with hope and resilience. Those who lost their loved ones, poverty, a house, or something accept it as their qadr, and they continue to live for a better tomorrow.
Life was sweet and hard back then. We were trying to bring back our city, even if we couldn't bring it back to how it used to be. At least we kept trying to make it lively until the inevitable happened and Sitra was shattered beyond repair.
It was when a Sunni and a Shia follower engaged themselves in a fight, and the Sunni follower killed the Shia follower. The Shia demanded that, that man be killed, but the Sunni refused to give him to them because they knew the Shia would hurt him, and because of that, they refused.
The Shia vowed to take revenge even if it meant destroying us, the Sunni.
War started, bloodshed spread everywhere, and people were suffering and living in darkness. Every day we keep seeing our loved ones being killed.
We're always afraid to see the sunrise because we will always wake up to the sound of gunshots and bullets.
We cried, wailed, and begged for help, but no one came to our aid. The war cooled down for some days, and that's when Baba decided to send us to the neighbouring village where his brother was living with his family.
We don't want to go, but then we can't live in that place either. Baba said it's not good for us to keep seeing all these kinds of things. He said it was not good for our health; he said he would come and take us back when everything cooled down.
"Take care of your sister because you're the only one she has and can trust with her life." That was Baba's word to me after he dropped us off at his brother's place.
His brother promised to take care of us, and we're also his children. Baba believed, and he was smiling when he left us in his hands, not knowing the pain that would come back and hit us again.
We spent three weeks at his house. Living with his children and wife. Even though it's not the best to live among people who pretend to love you, it's better than living in a place where your life is at stake, where you will wake up to the sound of a gun, and where you will have a hard time getting a proper meal.
We have never talked to Baba since the day he dropped us, and every day my heart yearned to see my parents.
Admist that chaos made Maha fall sick; her medical expenses were very high and her health kept deteriorating, and that's when my uncle said he was tired.
"I cannot continue to live with beggars in my own house. I've got my responsibility to take care of, and I don't think I'm capable enough for more," he said, taking us to the bus stop. He paid for the transport from his place to my place. His face shows no pity, even after the kind of situation Maha was in.
We started the journey. Maha's body keeps burning. I've got no medicine to give her. The only thing I had with me were the dates and bread I saved for us.
Looking at her and seeing her in that kind of situation made me shed tears, and when Maha tried to wipe my tears with her burning yet fragile hands, I shed more tears again.
YOU ARE READING
Why Do Tears Keep Falling
General FictionUncle, can you believe it, everyday we go to sleep, cold and hungry?! No money, nothing! Baba was a Shaheed. Before he died, we always had wood. We also had his hugs and smiles to keep us warm. But now... Nothing. Baba is is gone; our warmth is gone...
