I watch his eyes as he speaks. There’s a gleam in them, the same one I saw in Jari, Nabeel, and that boy who rescued us from the rebels. It lasts a moment after his words end before disappearing.
“Get some rest, Zaid. Whatever you decide, it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”
I’d forgotten what chicken tastes like—forgotten what delicacy a warm and ripe chicken leg offers. It’s like I’ve never eaten it before. Smelling the warm, inviting aroma, I lose all control and go after the food with my hands, stuffing my mouth full of it. The meat’s slick juices dribble all over my fingers as I clench the chicken leg. Any dining etiquette Ummi taught me is long gone.
The meat is tender. It nearly melts in my mouth. I treat each bite as if it’ll be my last. I eat the chicken right off the bone, not leaving a scrap. Abbi always said to leave a little meat on the bones, but I ignore his voice when it rings in my head.
As for the rice, it’s mostly plain with a just tang of flavor to it. It’s like something Aisha would have made. Just like the chicken, I don’t need any utensil for it. Taking handfuls, I eat it with more vigor than any sane boy should. The more I eat, the more my stomach urges me on, not wanting me to relent. I could live off of this—I wish I could live off of this.
I devour the food as any condemned man would eat his last meal. I don’t know the next time I’ll dine on anything other than stale bread and old dates. This could very well be the final warm meal I have.
But I know what comes after this. I’ll have to make a decision, and it may perhaps be the last meaningful decision I ever make.
I’ve lost the ability to sleep at night. It’s become as foreign as the security of my own bed. With slumber keeping itself well out of reach, I am left with my own thoughts. I don’t know if it’s the battle raging in my mind, the tears, or if I’m just too exhausted to fall asleep. I know it’s not the distant fighting raging in Aleppo. I’ve grown too accustomed to the bombs and gunfire that are ripping my city apart.
But whatever it is, my mind is nothing but restless.
Where do I begin to answer my questions? I don’t know what to do. How did I survive that blast? The bomb fell right on top of us. Better yet, how did I survive any of this? I am no stronger than any of those who have become victims of this battle.
The sun will show itself soon enough. It can’t be more than a few hours until dawn. When the rays break over the horizon, I’ll have to choose which path to take. My mind wants to go along with Ethan. It’s not just because he’s going in the safer direction. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Being in his presence feels… it feels like being around Jari, Salman, or Nabeel.
Taking the other road seems like nothing but folly. Going on—continuing towards Ballermourn—is a lost cause. The entire city is being razed to the ground. Thousands of buildings are now piles of wreckage and ash. Who am I to think that my home is safe and still standing?
I don’t know what Abbi, Ummi, and Aisha would have done when this all began. A part of me thinks they may have come searching for me. But where would they have begun? They wouldn’t know where to find me any more than I know where to find them. The better part of my mind asserts that they likely evacuated after realizing that they would soon be overrun. They were already packing when I left, weren’t they? Maybe they are trusting me to do the same thing and not go running into a war zone looking for them.
To the north, there is nothing. But to the west is salvation. I don’t have a choice. This isn’t a crossroads because there is no other path. There is only one option.
I was following Salman out of friendship and loyalty. He and Fatima are gone now. My eyes again water at the thought, but I hold back any tears. There is no time for that. I’ve shed too many tears since this all began. First Bilal. Then Jari. Now my two best friends. They’ve all given their lives so that I can live. I have to honor them by surviving. What good will come out of my demise? It’ll make their sacrifices mean nothing. I have to go west.
I sit up on the bed and swing my legs over the side. Taking a deep breath, I stare at the ground in front of me. I’ve made my choice.
…but why does it feel so wrong?
Sticking my hands into my pockets, I feel something in them. It’s a folded up paper. My eyes suddenly widen as I remember what it is. I’d all but forgotten about it after everything that’s happened. Taking a gulp, I slowly reveal it.
The note is just as I found it on Jari’s shelf, only a bit more worn out. The corners are a little beat down and folded, while the edges are starting to become discolored. However, the words on the exterior remain the same: Read this when you need it the most.
I thought so many times that I needed to read Jari’s words. But out of all the times I’ve needed direction or any sort of inspiration, this trumps them all. There is no shadow of doubt in my heart about that. With a deep breath, I slowly open the note. My hands are trembling. I unfold it once. Then again, revealing the words written by my long lost guardian. Unlike any time before, the words are not jumbled as I read them. They’re the clearest any written words have ever been, and each one goes directly into my heart:
The moment I saw you, Zaid, I was reminded of someone: myself. You wear the same eyes I did as a child. You often feel inept as I did. You often compare your failures to the success of others as I did. Your admiration for your brother and friends makes you feel as if you must be something that you’re not.
Learn the truth, Zaid. There is none who may rule over you unless you allow them. You are the captain of your soul. You are the king of your destiny. When you are at a crossroads, always follow your heart. When the masses are against you, when fear is on every side, and when it seems like you’re alone, that is when you should stand the tallest. That is when you plant yourself like a mountain, and you do what your heart knows is right. Even if death will be your only reward.
Be the heart of Aleppo. Be the light of hope.
Chapter 24
Search of Hope
Not long after reading that note, I’m out of bed. I can’t sit or lay down anymore. Jari’s words echo in my brain, drowning out every other fear-filled thought that has consumed me since waking up in this room. The longer I listen to his words and let them into my soul, the lighter the weight on my chest becomes.
I read the note more times than I can count. I was right all along about one thing: this isn’t a crossroads. There is only one path to take. I just couldn’t see it clearly enough.
The first light soon breaks through the darkness outside. Won’t be long now before the sun shows itself. Instead of fear for what this day may hold, something else takes root in my soul, something that I haven’t felt for a long time.
With the sack slung over my shoulder, I quickly tighten up my shoelaces before heading towards the bottom floor. This building was once a shop just like any other I’ve seen. Lining up the walls are family portraits. A family of five used to live here: a father, mother, and three daughters. There are countless pictures of them that were taken in various parts of Aleppo. There’s one photo from the citadel, another from the Great Mosque, and a third from the National Museum.
They once lived in this house as a family. I hope to one day thank them for unknowingly giving me and the others shelter here.