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

“What brought you here?”

“Humanitarian work.” His expression is hard to read, making it difficult to understand just what he means. However, after a moment, he continues. “I’ve been helping distribute supplies to a lot of the civil war’s refugees. I was on my way to the airport to collect a shipment of supplies. But then the attack began and everything in this city went to…” Ethan pauses. “I was here with my sister. I lost her in all this chaos and have been searching for her.”

“Where were you when it all started?”

“In the southwest.”

“Do you know where she might be?” I reply. “Your sister, I mean?”

“If she’s able to move, she’ll be headed towards the camp in Mansoura. Where were you and your friends headed?”

I remember my final words with Salman and the determination in his eyes. “Back home. Ballermoun.”

“We’re still a good ways away from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m taking Saba with me to the camp. She thinks her brother and sister will be headed there as well. She can barely walk, so I’ll need to help her. I’m praying that I’ll find my sister there as well.” He falls silent for a brief second. “Are you still planning on going on alone?”

My next move? I don’t think I’ve even yet come to terms with the fact that I survived that battle. I look away from him. “I… don’t know. I don’t think I really know anything anymore.”

“You’re welcome to come with us. The more people we are in a group, the better off we’ll be.”

I don’t reply.

Ethan sits motionless for a long moment before nodding. Can he sense the uncertainty that I’m feeling right now? “Right. You’ve gone through a lot. It’s too early to decide what you need to do next.” He rises up out of his chair. “Rest up, Zaid. I’ll bring you some food later.”

After Ethan closes the door and leaves, an eerie silence settles into the room. The only thing I see through the window is darkness. No matter how long I lay my head against the pillow, I can’t rest. The silence is only broken by the occasional eruption. I don’t witness any blast cut through the night, but I hear them well enough.

How many times do I relive the nightmare? The bomb came out of nowhere. Then the chaos ensued, and I was alone. There was no Salman and Fatima by my side. Every time I close my eyes, I see the destruction surround me. It’s like I’m back at Jari’s shop, unable to fathom what just occurred.

I don’t know when it finally hits me. But when the realization settles in that my friends are long gone, any and all restraint dissolves. Clenching myself, I curl into a fetal position and weep like never before. I can’t fight the tears or the shivers as my body violently convulses with every sob.

I remember all the times we skipped stones at the lake. I remember walking back from school every day. I remember Salman giving me his new football for its first use. I remember sitting next to Fatima on the swings when the world seemed so cold and cruel.

One moment, they were by my side. We were continuing our journey home. Salman was so… so sure that we would see our families. Even with my disbelief, he never doubted that this would all pass.

Now it’s all gone. There’s nothing left.

I’ve forgotten that I’m nothing but a boy—nothing but a thirteen-year-old boy trying to pretend that I’m strong enough to survive in this chaos. I have no place in a city like this. If anybody should have died in that blast, it should have been me. Salman and Fatima were the strong ones. What have I got to offer? Why did I live when they did not?

Their faces are etched into my skull. Salman and Fatima both stare back at me. Salman is strong, his gaze unwavering, just like Nabeel’s. Fatima is staring at me with those beautiful green eyes. I never told her how I felt. Now, I never will.

It’s not just them. There’s Bilal and Jari. They gave their lives for me.

Abbi. Ummi. Aisha. I see them too. Their gazes are… hollow, lifeless. I never truly said goodbye to any of them, never got to tell them how much I loved each and every one of them. They’re gone. All of them. It’s just me. It’s like—it’s like the punch line of some twisted joke.

The weeping intensifies. The more I think of them—the more I relive the warm memories I will never again experience—the faster the tears come. I can’t stop thinking about them. Their voices are all mixed in my head, calling to me over and over again.

I’m back in Bilal’s car right before we pull away from my home. My family is still close enough for me to reach out and touch. Reliving the scene, I am screaming in my head—screaming to stay. However, I can say and do nothing. I can only watch it all unfold. I see the look in their eyes. They don’t want me to leave. Why don’t I grab on to them and refuse to let go? Why don’t I stay? Everything is screaming for me to stop, pleading for me to step out of the vehicle. But I do nothing.

Don’t let me leave! Don’t let me go! Keep me there! Abbi! Ummi! Aisha! Please! Don’t let me leave!

My fist is clenched so tight that my nails start digging into my palm. The car begins to pull away. I’m drifting away from my family, going down a path that they cannot follow. Why don’t I stay?

It’s not too late! Don’t let me leave, Abbi! Don’t let me leave! Please! Don’t send me into this nightmare! Say something! Stop the car! Do something!

We grow further and further away. I’m condemning my family. My mind is begging me to end this—to somehow change what happens, but I am powerless. I can’t change anything. Again, I leave them standing there and disappear into the abyss.

Why did I go! I should have stayed! I should have never gotten in that forsaken car! Never left! I would have rather died at my house than survive in this nightmare! You—you idiot! You stupid boy! Why didn’t you stay! Why did you leave them all to die!?

Tears continue streaking down my cheeks. They leave my face damp as they roll off my face and soak the bed sheets. I thought I was brave. But now I know it was only because I was with Salman and Fatima. I’m alone. For once in my life, I am truly alone. Why is this happening to me? Is God really watching this all unfold? I’ve lost everything to faceless monsters: my home, family, and friends. Now they’ve stolen any childhood that remained inside of me. Even if I possessed the courage to fight and seek vengeance, I wouldn’t know where to swing.

If You are watching, why don’t You do anything? Why—why don’t You stop this all from happening! What have I done—what have any of us done to deserve this!?

“I don’t… understand.” My feeble words are not even a whimper. “I—I can’t hear You. What do You want from us… from me…”

These monsters left me with nothing. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do when the sun rises. Days ago, I was a boy with everything in the world. I just never knew it. Now, I am nothing more than an orphaned boy left to fend for himself in a city that has forgotten what it used to be.

I finally know what destitution is.

My tears finally run dry. The night is dark, the silence unsettling. Staying in the fetal position, I feel the moist sheets beneath me. My face remains wet, and I don’t possess the willpower to wipe away the tears.

How long has it been since Ethan left? Two hours? Three? My tired gaze stays focused on the closed door. I can’t stop thinking about all I’ve lost—how I’ve been stripped of everything I ever held dear. The more I do, the further I lose any will to ever step out of that door. I just want it all to end.