The Crossover | Chapter ~ III Spirit of the MothA Chapter by Marc Marlon Villaflor
The commotions outside alarm us, I open the window to check what happen outside. A large number of people chanting for the government's fall. It is an intense afternoon looking those people throwing stones to the Police Force that block the street. The people still keep moving forward, the Police Force throw tear gas simultaneously in different direction which creates a horrible picture as the young children can’t stand the poisons air. The people run and chase their breaths. Some people are wounded and injured. The Police Force brutally hurt the protesters in order to gain control in this situations. I can no longer bear the turmoil; I close the window and hurriedly hold my brother’s hand heading to our parent’s room. “Mama, baba! Chaos strike outside, people get hurt and children are dying.” I told my mother and my father. “Mariam, just put your things in the bag. We will leave this place tomorrow, we heard that they will do the shelling and bombing soon in this place. We can’t afford to stay here, we are not safe here anymore,” said my Father. “Ahmed, just help your sister and we need to finish all things before the dawn tomorrow.” My mother instructs my brother Ahmed. The night comes with explosions. I can feel our house is shaking. I can hear the howling of the dogs, screaming of people and crying of children. My father rush into our room, “Mariam!” he hugs me, and wake up my brother Ahmed. “Hurry up! We will go to the basement.” We hurriedly reach the basement while explosions keep going. We tremble at the stairs heading to the basement. My grandmother was crying. She hurriedly grabs us while praying, and holds us tight. My father and my mother are anxious for the continuous explosions. It echoes the sound of destruction even we are in the basement. The thunderous sound of the explosions stirs me, until I completely close my eyes and sleep. “Mariam, hey wake up,” my mother touch my face and she also wake Ahmed. It is already 5:00 AM when I look at my watch. “Mama, should we go now?” “Yes, your father is outside preparing our luggage with your grandmother.” “Mama, I want to shower.” Ahmed asks. “We don’t have water. Maybe the bombing destroy the pipeline. Same with the telephone, we don’t have a signal. I can’t call your sister Haifa,”my mother is sad informing us. “Alright ma, we can still contact Haifa if we use internet,”I try to comfort my mother while assuring her that still we can reach my sister. We are waiting for the truck outside of our house, I can see the white smokes spreading everywhere including the second floor of our house, too many people lying on the street, some are dead while their blood strewn on the ground. Horrific pictures with innocent soul dying. “Mariam!” I look at my back seeing my friend Remia. She cries and she hugs me. “Mariam, Khalid is dead,” said Remia. I can’t breathe, my tears fall when I hear our best friend Khalid is already dead. “Their house was destroyed by the bombing last night and he was not lucky to escape.” Remia tears roll in her face. I can’t accept the truth, we were happy yesterday but now, I lost him. "Oh God, bless his soul." I mutter It really hurts me, I can't believe it. I wish I can see him, but he is far from here, and the truck is coming. "Oh Khalid, I am sorry. I love you. May God bless you," I whisper. “What about you aren’t you leaving?” I ask my friend Remia while I am startlingly wiping my tears. “No, we don’t have money, my father said. "We can’t go anywhere." "We prepare to stay in our basement until this war is over.” Remia’s eyes are full of tears as she informs me. The truck arrives and my parent is wating for me, I hug and kiss her as I will go now, I might not see her again. “Goodbye Mariam,” I wave goodbye to my best friend Remia, I am sad looking at her. It hurts. Saying goodbye to my bestfriend, thinking of Khalid, thinking of my home, such beautiful place were we dreams, but now I will leave this place, the place I loved most.
---------------------------------------------------- The food tray drops as the young woman looks at the TV News Program which gives live feeds on what happens inside Syria. “God, please, protect my family,” she muttered. “Oh my God! Haifa that is your city, it was destroyed last night,” said by the girl next to Haifa as she pick up the tray. “I am sorry Kelly, yes it is my city’” She helps Kelly in clearing the mess, she tremble, Kelly holds her and let her sit. “Are you OK? Haifa?” Kelly asks her friend giving her a glass of water. “I am afraid Kelly, my parent's phone are all off, can’t find a way to contact them,” she informs Kelly that she tried reaching all possibility of contacting relatives and friends, but it seems the communication lines is cut off. “Oh Haifa, this is strange, it might be the bombing destroyed the communication facilities in your country.” Haifa gasp deeply in hearing Kelley’s words, there is a possibility that communication is destroyed because of the bombing. “Kelly, could you book me a flight going to Turkey next week? I would try the other ways to connect with my family. Our relatives in Turkey might have other options in getting inside Syria.” She requested Kelly for this ticket because she believes Kelly will help her in this matter, Kelly’s parent own a big travel agency in Washington. “Sure honey, I will do it today.” Kelly affirms Haifa that she will get the faster and best travel plan as soon as possible. “Thanks Kelly, I have a meeting with Craig tomorrow at the library to finalize our project presentation, I will wait you there.” “Sure Haifa, just give me your preferred flights and hotels.I will give it to you for free. I really wanted to help you,” Kelly’s assures Haifa that things will be okay and Haifa hugs her friend. © 2013 Marc Marlon VillaflorAuthor's Note
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20 Reviews Added on May 10, 2013 Last Updated on May 15, 2013 AuthorMarc Marlon VillaflorDIFC Dubai International Financial Center, Dubai City, United Arab EmiratesAboutI am just writing for almost 2 months now and no background in the world of poetry. Hope you will always share your wisdom and correct my mistakes as I need it to solidify my dreams to write. Thank y.. more..Writing
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