My Forgotten Story

Monday 10 February 2014

I will not start with the usual “once upon a time” since what I am going to say has not yet become part of the past and is still on-going.

One day, I went out with my family for an outing on the beach. While walking there I saw a young girl sitting by herself so I started walking slowly in her direction until I was close enough to sit beside her. Looking at her, I saw a girl whose eyes were full of sadness and agony.

I said very gently and in a low voice: “What’s wrong my friend, why do I see you so burdened with hopelessness?”

She responded: “I don’t want to talk to anyone, just leave me alone”; but I insisted on finding out the reason of her sadness. She started crying and then said: “Do you want to know the reason of my sadness and pain?”

I responded: “Yes of course.”

Here is what she said:
“Since my early years I used to have a queer dream which has never left me until the present day. I never thought that that dream, once it became a reality, will be the cause of my despair and breakdown. I used to dream always of a stormy night with very heavy rain and I would open my window and look at this awesome scene of nature and to the heaven that seemed to support it.

There was a very deep darkness and a very strong wind which was getting stronger and stronger until it seemed about to uproot the rocks. It seemed as if the sky was crying. I was reflecting on all what I was watching in front of the window while at the same time I was trembling not knowing whether that was because I was cold or it was the fear that made me tremble. In either case, I felt strongly driven to continue looking out of my window.

All of a sudden, while looking at the mighty sky crying, I saw a gleam of light followed immediately by a huge noise. Looking at the light which I saw and the noise which I heard, I started reflecting on why the gleam of light came before the noise? Were they competing in a race like two youngsters in their school yard? Or were they in a race like the one between seconds and minutes? I was really wondering whether that violence and anger were lighting the darkness of the night.

I was really perplexed while looking at this scene with great astonishment and disbelief.

My mother used to come to me and ask why I was staring at that deep darkness and urge me to go to bed and dream of a nice house or a doll or beautiful colors or the singing birds or one of these mother birds coming back with some food for their babies. Go back to bed my sweet girl she would say, go back to sleep.

I cannot forget that night when I had this dream and when I woke up trembling from fear and sat on the sofa and then a fearful light appeared which almost made me lose my sight followed by a forceful sound which almost made me lose my hearing. I was dismayed and terribly scared such that I could not stand up. All of a sudden my mother opened the door of my room and said with a horrified voice: You are here but your father and your brothers are outside…

The volcano covered every place, the sky was full of black crows that spread their poisons over every village and every town and every street.
Hayat (the girl’s name) stopped talking and started crying. Then with great agony and grief, she said with a trembling voice: “On that day, I lost my father and my brothers.” Then, she continued:

“The sorrow and sadness dominated everything, my mind, my heart, my body, everything in me. Even the sun looked very sad and ashamed; ashamed from rising every morning, because every new dawn brings with it another number of martyrs covered with white and red shrouds scented with fragments of Jasmine.

The world celebrates the new-year with roses and lit candles, while we bid farewell to and shed tears for our beloved ones.

Maybe now you know, my friend, the reason of my sadness and my agony, and the story of that day which never leaves my memory.

This was not a life story of mine, but rather it is a fact of life that has brought misery to a people which have never known the meaning of the word “impossible”

With my best regards

Written by: Iman Hameed Ayyash

Age: 17

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