Read The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War Online
Authors: Sumia Sukkar
âAre you sure?'
âYes.'
I run into the room and keep the door slightly open and keep my eye on Amira. She kisses Baba on the forehead the way Yasmine used to and starts to wake him up. She looks like Yasmine from the back. But she is not. She's not Yasmine.
I'
VE BEEN EATING
my hard bread with a mouse that comes to visit me every day whenever my food comes. The girl in the corner hardly ever speaks. Sometimes I speak to her but she doesn't reply and in the end I'm speaking to myself. How long have I been here? I don't know how to count the days in this cell. We have no light and no hope. I think I should sit in the corner like the other girl and forget about time and the world, but I can never stop thinking about Adam. I am always imagining what he is doing or not doing without me. Is he being looked after? Is everyone still alive? Every day I have been monitoring the screams and how many women they have brought in so far. I can't see if they're torturing everyone in the same way but the screams are the same. My heart always shrivels up when I hear the sound of torture with a whip or when I hear their moans. It makes me cringe and want to die inside. If only I could chop my ears off. I wouldn't be the first one to do it. I sometimes try to count as long as I can to waste time and figure out how much time has passed. I once counted to 8,457 before I got tired and fell asleep. I try to sleep as much as possible because there's nothing else to do.
âWhat? Where is he! Bring him to me now or you're going to die!'
âMaster, they took him.'
âAnd what were you doing you idiot? Were you just smiling and giving him to them?'
âMaster, I had to run away.'
âIf he gives away our secrets and hideout we are all dead! You know that you bastard!'
âMaster! I will do my best!'
âGo! Go! I don't want to see your face until you bring him back.'
The shouting is so loud it feels like I am sitting in the middle of them. Maybe this is a good thing for us. I hope they kill them. I hope we are able to run away. I just want to go home. I'm cold and lonely. I wonder why they have been giving us bread and keeping us alive. Don't they want to kill us? Or is this their way of prolonging our pain? I wouldn't put it past these bastards. I am not eating anything from now on. I'd rather die sooner than later. I want to die and let go of all my worries and pain.
I hear the main door slam and the master speak to someone. I guess he is speaking on the phone.
âThey took Wael hostage!⦠I know, I sent him back to get him, but let's be realistic, he's not coming back. We need a change of plan!'
He doesn't say anything for a while and keeps punching walls. I can almost feel his punch.
âStop the attack for now. We need to make sure they don't make him snitch. Well what can I do? If I go out there they'll kill me for sure. I don't even know if Haitham is coming back after I just sent him⦠Khalas, I'll deal with it. Don't worry.'
They're planning an attack? I pray that he says more so I know where it is. I just hope it's not by our house. I can't do anything anyway but please God don't let it be by our house. He doesn't say anything else so I'm guessing he's put the phone down. Damn!
I know a huge thing but I have no power to make change. I don't know how many people they intend to kill with this bomb but maybe I can make a change. I keep thinking about how to escape then look over at the woman in the corner and shiver from fear. Am I that brave? I don't know. I am already scarred with pain.
I pray all day and cry to God to listen to my prayers and save us. I know he is listening. Please God, save us, please keep my family safe. I look down at my naked body and cry even more. I don't even have the guts to look at myself any more. They made me hate being a woman.
I hate the state I am in: weak and needy. I have never relied on anyone before. I have always looked after my family from day one and have never had a day for me. I don't even have a family of my own. No child to name or laugh with, my only child is Adam, and he isn't even mine.
I lie down on the cold concrete and close my eyes really tight and enjoy the stars I see forming behind my eyelids. This is the best entertainment I can provide for myself. Different shapes form and merge into animals then houses and then people then I cannot stop thinking about Wisam and his face is formed inside my eyes and pieces of him fall down my face with every tear.
I open my eyes to the sound of a loud hammering and chainsaw. That's what it sounds like. A chainsaw has a peculiar sound: it cannot be mistaken for anything else. What are they doing out there? I feel guilty about feeling relieved at not being out there. Soon I hear a girl screaming and my guilt increases. I don't know if I have the right to feel relieved. I should pray for the girl and not be selfish. My prayers are my only company. I know my prayers will save me. I have faith, I know this isn't the end of me. The screaming stops a few minutes later and another woman starts to scream the exact same way. I hope it's not what I think it is. I hope I am not next. I crawl to the girl in the corner and tap her shoulder. Her eyes pop open. They are so big, and her jaw is pointy and thin. I almost forgot what I wanted to say after seeing her. She stares at me in an intimidating manner, it feels like I am being scolded. Her silence is so strong. It seeps into me and plants fear inside my tears. I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth and muster up the courage to ack her if she knows what's happening outside.
âI don't know and I don't care as long as I'm in here!'
I don't feel so bad any more because I'm not the only one who feels this way. Everyone is selfish I guess.
âWhat if we are next?'
âI want to die anyway.'
âDon't say that!' I jump at her but then think about how I have the same thoughts. Is everybody stranded in this place experiencing the same waves of hopelessness? Is there actually any hope for us?
I sit next to the woman and try to touch her shoulder slightly. I want to feel the comfort of another human being. I want to feel alive. She doesn't move and I close my eyes and stay bundled up in my own limbs close to her. I start thinking of what I would do if I came out of here safely. I would write a book and go to protest against these bastards. I would get revenge for Isa's blood, I would find Wisam and tell him I want him no matter what. Or would I? Do I really have the guts? If I go back, will I just go back to living the same mundane lifestyle?
My mind spirals around these ideas for what seems like an eternity. It feels like my thoughts are slipping from my brain down to my neck and are about to strangle me.
*
It's been days I think since I have been given some bread or water. My throat feels like it's closing up, it's giving up on me. I haven't heard any screams or any of the men's voices since the last screams with the chainsaw. What is happening? I have no way of looking out to see what is going on. I can only guess that days have passed because I have thought about my whole life and prayed for hours and hours for God's help. I have no sense of time. Who would have thought that time was this important? You lose track of life itself without time.
I get up and walk around the cell and stretch my legs. My limbs keep getting numb because my blood circulation is wrong. I keep moving around trying to find the warmest position possible with no clothes and no warmth. I think it rained a few days ago because I can smell the humidity through the walls. That's how thin they are. What if I keep banging, would someone hear me? I have nothing to lose any more; I am going to lose my mind if I stay in here another day. I start punching the wall and kicking it. I can hear the echo in the room. Would the people outside be able to hear me? Or is there no hope? I can't remember if we are on the ground floor or if we are on the upper floors. Maybe nobody can hear because my wall isn't on the ground floor. I have never felt this disoriented. Is this how Adam always feels when he says he is lost? I know I haven't been the best support. I know he needed a special school because of his condition but we couldn't afford it so I turned a blind eye to his needs. How horrible was I to do so? Why didn't I think it was wrong back then? Was I too blinded by mama's death?
I hear the slamming of a door and people shouting. It sounds like a huge group. They start shouting God's name and praising him. I run to the door and stick my ear on it. I try to hear as much as possible. I hear gunshots being fired but I don't know who they're shouting at. I hear no screams. Are all the other women trapped here as lost as me? Or am I the only one who is noticing these things? I look back at the girl in the corner and she hasn't even flinched.
I hear the bunch getting closer, they aren't chanting any more and there are no gunshots. Are they coming to get us? Are they the people the master spoke to on the phone? Is there worse yet to come? Question after question races through my mind and I just sit back and wait for fate to take its course. I don't know why I can't sit still even though I can't do anything. Is there something wrong with me?
I can hear doors opening and men calling out to people.
âBy the name of God, come out!'
Is this a dirty trick they're using on us, calling us in the name of God so we trust them? I can hear them getting closer so I run to the woman in the corner and act like her. Maybe they'll think we're dead and leave us alone? I wait and wait but nothing happens. I start counting to comfort myself and the moment I count to 15 our door slams open. I feel a breeze sweep over us and try not to shiver. You are dead Yasmine, you are dead. I squeeze my eyes shut and repeat to myself that I am dead.
âBy the name of God, come out, we have come to free you.' What filthy bastards they are, they think we will fall for this trick? I don't move and can hear footsteps approaching me. Please God save me, please God. I try to hold my breath but I am running out of willpower. Someone taps me on the shoulder but I do not move. You're doing a good job Yasmine, keep going.
âSister, get up, I know you're awake. We are here to save you.'
He puts a blanket on my shoulders and my heart relaxes. Maybe we really are being saved at last. I open my eyes and look up. I see the man smiling down at me, his face glows with confidence. Maybe we really are being saved.
âWhere do you live sister?'
I don't know whether I should tell him or not, what if he captures my family?
âAroundâ¦'
âI promise I'm the good guy,' he says as he laughs.
âHow do I know?'
âBecause I haven't done anything to harm you so farâ¦'
He's right but I can't act like a fool and end up in something worse so I still don't answer.
âWell, we've got everybody some clothes outside, so grab something and leave, you are free.'
I jump up and run before he changes his mind. I run like I have never run before. I look up and try not to look down. God forgive me. I grab the nearest piece of clothing and run out of the door. My forehead is sweating and I feel dizzy. The intensity of my heart beating has got to me. I put the dress over my body and wrap myself in the cloth and walk down the stairs and out of the building. There is no sun or blue sky but the natural light outside makes my eyes hurt. How long have I been inside? I pick my dress up a little and run for my life. It's not an expression: I am running for my life.
I
AM PAINTING THE SCENE
outside today. It looks scary. There is blood and in the distance there's a collapsed building. I'm painting the blood on the floor with real blood. I'm happy that I am painting even though I am painting a sad scene. I think the sun is out a little more today. I finish the painting and then wait for it to dry off before taking a pencil and sketching Baba holding Khalid's hands with blood dripping. I fill him in with different colours especially navy blue and black. Because that's the way he made me feel when I saw him. If anyone sees this, I wonder if they will know what is happening? I don't want to paint Baba like a bad guy, but I want to paint the truth.
I decide to combine a little of the rain that fell with the sun that is coming out today. I am not lying, I am just mixing the days. Our days are mixed up anyway because we are always on the edge of our seats. In English class we had a sheet handed out that described the reaction to a horror movie as someone sitting on the edge of their seat. This isn't a movie though and I am literally sitting on the edge of my seat. Miss Basma said that it's a metaphor for fear when I asked her why someone would sit on the edge of his or her seat. I have never understood what a metaphor is. How can you say something is something else when it isn't? She gave me an example: âTime is money'. But time isn't money so why are they teaching us lies? I really like school, but sometimes it doesn't make sense.
I look out of the window and see a man running fast down our street. It looks like he is running to me because my window is broken and I get confused between being inside and outside. I stare at him running, he is breathing heavily. I can't hear him because he is far away but I can see his chest go in and out really fast. The closer I look the more it looks like a woman. The body looks like a woman's but they're bald. I keep staring till I can get a better view. They're getting closer and now I am sure that it's a woman but it's the first time I have seen a bald woman in real life. I see them in movies when they are cancer patients, but it's weird seeing it in real life. Her face looks familiar but I am not sure how. I don't know how to describe her familiar features. She has eyes that look like rubies. I only know one person like that: Yasmine. But Yasmine has hair and she wears a headscarf. Could there really be someone else who has eyes like Yasmine's?