Ammar Habib - The Heart of Aleppo - A Story of the Syrian Civil War

As I hear him walk away, I still can’t grasp this. It seems impossible. Those soldiers serve the same army as Nabeel. They’ve taken the same oath. They would never shoot at civilians even for that reason. This can’t be the truth…

But the falling bombs. They’re the military’s. And they’re hailing down on this district like they’re trying to eradicate every building, road, and gutter. There’s no way the military is able to ensure that they’re only hitting the rebels and not civilians.

I hear a question in the back of my mind. It starts off as a whisper, but it grows louder as the reality of the situation sets in. Before I know it, it’s the only thing I hear: is the military’s priority to protect civilians or defeat the rebels?

Deep inside, I’m beginning to realize what the answer is.

“Zaid?”

I look back to see Fatima entering the room. She leaves the door open a crack. The ceiling light dimly reflects off her face and dark pink headscarf. She’s freshened up a bit, just like I have. Her face is much cleaner than the night before, and her eyes don’t seem as weary. She probably got some sleep. At least one of us was able to. I notice what’s in her hands: Jari’s emerald green rosary beads. “We were all looking for you, Zaid. Salman says we should eat a bit. We’ll be heading out in about an hour or two.”

My reply is quick. “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?”

I turn away from her. “Every explosion I hear is making me sick to my stomach. I don’t think I’m in the mood to throw up my dinner.”

“You heard about what Salman saw?”

I don’t respond.

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

“I would have found out sooner or later.”

“Is that why you’re by yourself?”

I stay silent, still not meeting her gaze.

She softly takes a seat next to me. We’re quiet for a long time as she runs her hands against the prayer beads. Seeing her holding them, a sudden regret grips my heart as I remember what today marks.

“What are you thinking about, Zaid?”

Finally, I look back at her. “Ramadan started today.”

Her eyes show that she remembers. As I mention it, I see the longing wash over her face. We both share the same feeling, knowing that the holy month—the holiest and most celebrated month of the year—is upon us, but we are unable to observe it as it begins to slip away right through our fingers. It’s like missing a train by a few seconds and watching it pull away, unable to do anything to bring it back.

“We were going to start fasting. Now we may never get the chance.”

“Don’t talk like that, Zaid.”

“The first day of Ramadan is supposed to be a happy time. The entire city is celebrating. Two days ago, Aisha was going to the market and buying supplies. Everyone was. We were getting ready like we do every year. When the sun goes down, there’s food everywhere and festive lights reach as far as the eye can see. Aisha was going to prepare a feast for the first day. She was so excited—everyone was so excited. But there’ll be none of that this year.” I pause, my voice shivering. “Maybe not ever again.”

Fatima listens, her gaze staying focused on me.

“There’s so much… so much happening, Fatima. I don’t know what to think anymore. I don’t know…” I take a deep breath, holding back the tears in my eyes. But my voice shows it. “Why do people do it?”

“Do what?”

“Sacrifice their life like Jari did?”

“I don’t know, Zaid.” She thinks for a long second, glancing down at the rosary beads. “Maybe it’s because when we die, we don’t take anything with us. Not our wealth. Not our possessions. But what we leave behind are people… a legacy. And if we leave those people better off than we found them, then maybe it amounts to something.”

I let her words saturate in my mind for a moment. “What will Jari’s legacy be?”

“I’m not sure.” Her green eyes lock with mine as she pauses. Reaching out, she lightly puts her hand on my shoulder. Just that simple action brings a sliver of peace to my soul. “But it’ll be inside each of us.”

The door swings open, slamming against the wall. Fatima and I immediately look towards it. Faisal stands in the entrance, his eyes filled with terror. “We need to go. Now!”

My eyes widen as we both stumble to our feet. “What’s happening?”

“People with guns are outside. They’re coming into the building. We need to leave.”

In an instant, the calmness I felt disappears. I stuff the rosary beads into my pocket as we nearly run out into the hallway. “Are they soldiers?”

“I couldn’t tell. I barely saw them entering, but I don’t think they’re wearing any kind of uniforms.” Faisal spits out his words like rapid fire. “Move quietly. We don’t want them to hear the floorboards creaking.”

“Do you know how many there are?”

He shakes his head.

Salman and Amaan dash into the hallway from the other room. Salman has all three sacks slung over his shoulder, while Amaan is carrying the radio under his arm.

“Leave that,” Salman commands. “It’ll slow us down.”

Amaan looks over at his brother. Faisal nods, and Amaan sets the radio down lightly enough so it doesn’t make a sound.

“There’s a back door exit from the second floor,” Faisal whispers. “There’s a second set of stairs that leads to it. We need to go from there.”

Coming to us, Salman hands me and Fatima our respective supply sacks. I hang it on my shoulder like before, immediately feeling its weight. It’s heavier than last night, but I ignore the pain as I adjust the strap.

“Which way?” Salman asks Faisal.

“Follow me.”

As Faisal leads us down the narrow corridor, I hear the voices below us. They’re rowdy and loud. If I didn’t know where they were, I would think that they were in the room next to me. The intruders are ripping open cabinets and throwing things onto the hard floor. Those voices sound just like the one that beckoned Jari to his death. It’s like we’re back in that storage closet again. The ground and walls nearly shake with the rancor.

The hallway is longer now. Narrower too. With every step, I almost hold my breath and pray that I don’t make a sound. We’re headed towards a crossroads up ahead, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. It’s only getting further away as the voices below intensify.

Finally arriving at the fork, Faisal leads us down the right path without missing a beat. He’s in the front of the pack with his brother, while Salman is in the back. Amaan is moving too fast and is putting too much pressure on his good leg. He needs to slow down. I try to say something—whisper something to him, but I’m not quick enough. A few paces into it, he steps onto a floorboard that echoes a loud creak.

We all freeze. My heart stops. The noise reverberates down the corridor. It seems to last forever… and then some. Amaan slowly turns his head to look back at us, maybe thinking that it wasn’t as loud as he thought. But he sees our expressions. The squeak drives a stake into my soul. For a long moment, we just stand there, hoping and praying that—

“You three! Go look upstairs!”

“Move!” Salman hisses.

I see the second staircase, the one we’re going for. We’re almost there. Faisal and Amaan pick up their pace and we follow right behind them. Almost there.

But then we hear it. Those are… footsteps. They’re heavy and fast. And they’re coming from the staircase in front of us!

Faisal suddenly whips around. Fear is in his eyes.

“Get out of the corridor.” Salman takes a few quick steps back towards the hallway’s fork. He can see the other stairwell—the one we came up last night. His eyes widen before he motions towards the nearest room. “In there. Now!”