Arriving at the bottom floor, I walk to the shop’s broken window and stare outside at the brightening heavens. I’m not afraid to go by windows anymore. There are only a handful of clouds visible. Gazing at the streaks of white and yellow light breaking through the sky’s darkness, I can’t help but stare at their beauty. I haven’t really seen the sky this clearly since this entire ordeal began. This sunrise appears different. More… aesthetic. I don’t know why. I’ve seen countless sunrises before, but this one puts them all to shame.
I soak it all in with a deep breath. I finally feel as calm as I did when praying yesterday afternoon. I don’t truly know what is out there; however, I know what hope I am holding dear to.
Feeling a presence, I turn around. Ethan stands a few feet behind me. I didn’t even hear him arrive. Our eyes lock for a brief moment before he breaks the silence. “You’re heading out?”
“Continuing north.”
Ethan slightly nods. “Deciding to continue your friends’ journey?”
“No. I’m going to find them.”
One of his eyebrows rises a bit. “Find them?”
“They’re still alive. I know it. If I survived the blast, then I know they did too. I believe that. I believe that with every fiber of my being. I believe that I’ll find them and my family. One way or another, we’ll all be together again. I promised to look after them, to protect them.” Jari’s and Nabeel’s words repeat in my head. “And I never go back on my word.”
“How do you know that they’re still alive?”
Salman’s statement—one of the last ones he said to me—echoes in my head, and I repeat it with a smile. “Because I have faith.”
After a long moment, Ethan displays a small smirk. Taking a step towards me, he puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “If circumstances were different, I would have followed you, Zaid.”
“I know. I hope that your sister is safe. I know that you will find her, God-willing. Thank you, Ethan, for everything.”
He nods in appreciation. “I once heard that it’s during the darkest hours when the courage of humanity burns brightest. Being here in this city, I understand that more than I ever have before.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“My grandfather, David, always used to say that. I see that in you now.” Ethan glances outside. “It’s daytime now. Are you sure it’s safe to travel out in the light?”
I take a deep breath. “I’ve been hiding in the shadows for far too long. It’s about time I remember what bathing in my city’s sun feels like.”
“When I found you yesterday, you were a scared boy, Zaid. Now… you’re something else. Never forget the hope you feel right now, and let it guide you.” Ethan takes a small step back. His smile grows. “Aleppo is a spirit, not a place. And now you have it in you. You’ve become the heart of the city—the heart of Aleppo.”
The sun soon appears behind Aleppo’s desolated skyline. It’s brighter than any I’ve seen as it continues to slowly ascend into the sky. With every passing minute, the streets start warming up as they emerge out of the night’s darkness.
To be out here while the sun is rising instead of setting feels foreign. There’s nobody on the roads—not a single soul visible other than myself. There isn’t even much smog to conceal any people. Are they all just hiding indoors like before?
I don’t recognize the street, not that I’d expect myself to. It looks just like any other one I’ve seen so far. The buildings once stood three or four stories high. Now, most of them are wrecked or utterly demolished. The stubs of some of the structure’s bases still remain standing, surrounded by bricks and mortar. Many buildings have been knocked right over like fallen trees, crashing onto one another or the road. Others have had a wall blown apart, their remains spilling onto the pavement. The handful that still stand have been shot up beyond repair.
The road itself is in no better shape. Burned and wrecked vehicles—cars, trucks, and vans—dot the street. Several of them are still smoldering under the morning skies. There are even several police vehicles, although the majority of them are unrecognizable now. Most were riddled by gunfire before and after going up in smoke. Shards of glass are everywhere, much of it melted into the pavement. A lot of the glass is long and sharp enough to cut right through my shoes and into my feet if I’m not careful. Much of the road itself has been blasted away, leaving holes everywhere, while chunks of concrete lay spread out amongst the vehicles. Some of the pits are nothing more than potholes, but others take up the entire width of the street.
Just like every single street in Aleppo, this place was once a bustling neighborhood. It was vibrant. It was alive. If I close my eyes, I can still sense it alclass="underline" the animated voices of merchants, the aroma of the street food mixed with the smell of diesel, and the feeling of walking down the crowded street. It was chaos… but it was my city, my home.
That scene seems like another world. Now they’ve turned it into a ghost town, one that even the people who lived here would never recognize.
However, I don’t let that get me down today. Because no matter what I face, I won’t lose that hope I felt when reading Jari’s note. I pat my pocket, feeling the letter safely tucked away. God-willing, I will find my friends.
I know it.
The fighting seems distant. I hear blasts in the far north and witness smoke get kicked up into the air. If I squint my eyes, I can see shells raining down from the heavens, but I’m too far to feel any of their blasts.
There are helicopters to the distant east, close to the city’s center. They’re out of earshot, but they hover above Aleppo’s downtown skyline—at least what’s left of it. I think they’re military. The fighting would be heaviest there as rebels and soldiers fight for control of the city’s core. We always read that whenever an invader came into a city, they tried to take over the media. I wonder if that’s what the rebels are trying to do.
I remember the last thing Salman said before the bomb hit. They were going to keep along the highway to follow it back home. After the chaos began yesterday evening, Salman and Fatima would have taken shelter until it all died down. They likely spent an hour or so looking for me. Not finding me or my body anywhere, they would have been forced to move on. There wouldn’t be any other choice but to follow through with the plan. When dawn came, they may have very well taken some sort of shelter. However, I have a feeling that they would only rest up a couple of hours before continuing to trudge forward.
All that boils down to one thing: I can’t be too far behind them.
There’s something different about today. It’s not the absence of pain or soreness. It’s not the lack of destruction or wreckage—there’s plenty around me as always, although I try not to pay it any attention. At first, I can’t put my finger on what is different. But then I realize what it is. The sound of silence—the one that I’ve heard every night as I journeyed through this city—is nowhere to be heard.
It’s… an odd feeling, as is the sensation of walking out here by myself.
I pass by some bodies, no corpses, as I trek on. Most are older, while a few are younger than me. Some are scorched beyond recognition, but I do my best to not look at any of them, even going out of my way to not really go near them. I can’t afford any second thoughts.
However, I can’t avoid them all. Many of the corpses were shot, the bullet wounds still visible. Others must’ve died in explosions. Some of them are… missing limbs. I don’t know why seeing it doesn’t stop me. Maybe I’ve grown immune to it all. Even the sight and stench of decaying corpses doesn’t slow me down one step as I simply continue walking by them.