A Nightly Morning

Yesterday morning was just like every night, black and closed. Birds are not singing anymore. I could not see children playing football in my street. Even students were not going to their schools. It was a strongly bizarre morning.

I still remembered the night before. The electricity was off and there was not enough solar to turn our generator, or even our neighbor’s on. We chose to sleep but our neighbor’s children had some homework to do prior to sleeping. Their mother turned on candles so they could see their books and pencils. They could study and did their homework.  They did. Yet, it was the last deed ever. It is the last night and the last homework. No more mornings. They will sleep eternally. The still up-candles run over their tiny bodies and burned them. It was only a moment when the fire came all around the house and its details.

 Under the black blockade against Gaza, death, I mean collective death, is now possible. You might lose your family in a minute. Your house might be burnt in a blink of an eye.

Four children and their parents; six they are.

I missed them. They used to come to my house and visited my room. They always smiled despite the unbearable condition they lived in; despite poverty and all kinds of suffering.  They usually came to my house to play with my siblings. Whenever returning from university, I saw them playing football with my brothers.

The 7-year-old Reem is my lovely girl; my life she is. We used to play with each other all kinds of games. She used my computer to play “Happy Garden Game”. She told me once, “I hope I can have my own computer. ” I promised that I will buy you one when I get my first salary.” She died. She still has a dream. We still dream.

The youngest girl’s name is “Qamar”. It means “The Moon”. Her parents named her so because they dreamed of brightness to lighten their dark life.  Qamar was still two months. She will not grow up though.

 They lost their lives; the light of their lives. I still could not imagine it. I woke up on people screaming and shouting everywhere. I could not see them due to the black lines of clouds. Fire was still going up and up. After minutes, I could recognize four of them and the other two corpses for their parents were removed from the house one-by-one. So, it is the whole family. A lonely life and a small world; it is the end where I am a lone without they six.

Still, I could see them running here and there asking me to play with them. They will not be a memory; they must be here; I will wait for them tomorrow; I am sure they will come and visit me. I see them coming and I prepare the chocolate they like.

A dream. It could not be but a dream. Six they are. The whole family went.

2 responses to “A Nightly Morning

  1. This is so terribly sad, sad, sad. So much love between the parents and the children. And your love for them.

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