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

Some conversation spills in from the next room every now and then. It sounds like a woman’s voice. It’s more than likely Saba and Ethan. I can’t make out their words, but Saba seems… seems just like me. Her voice is tired and fearful. However, Ethan remains the same: confident. Doesn’t he see what’s happening?

This is the first night in a long time that I’ve been given the chance to rest. It feels… wrong. The part of me that doesn’t want this suffering to end thinks I should be out there on the move. Where should I be going? I have no clue. As the night passes, a guilty pit forms in my stomach.

I keep replaying the blast in my head. The moment before the bomb hit, Salman and Fatima were a step away. I could reach out and touch them. But then everything went ablaze. They disappeared as if they never existed. After everything we survived, everything we endured, they went out like that.

Even through the chaos in my mind, I know what is going to happen soon. I have to make a choice. I can keep trekking to the north… alone. Or I can go west with Ethan and Saba, perhaps the last two friendly faces I will ever meet. North to more destruction. West to a sanctuary.

What am I supposed to do? The more I think, the more painful that pit in my gut grows. Keep trudging towards Ballermourn alone? I’m no Salman or Nabeel. I can’t survive out there on my own. I barely survived with my friends. Out there are enemies on every side: soldiers, rebels, people like Faisal and Amaan. I can’t even tell friend from foe. It’s a fool’s dream. Maybe it always was. Why couldn’t Salman see it? Why was he so set on going north? If we had left towards Mansoura, maybe he’d still be…

I let out an aggravated groan. My fist trembles and is clenched so tightly that it hurts. There’s no use in speculating. It doesn’t matter anymore, none of it does. Salman and Fatima are gone. That’s the fact, and I need to accept it no matter how hard it is.

Shutting my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I know what I must do. It’s not even a choice. I can’t keep heading north. There’s nothing there for me. Nothing but misery. I have to go with Ethan and Saba. It’s my only chance. I think it’s what Salman would want me to—

A knock on my door diverts my attention. It opens and Ethan steps inside with a plate in his hands. Is that… chicken! And rice. I stare at them as if they’re foreign dishes. Where did he get that from? As he comes halfway to the bed, I finally rip my gaze off of the plate and on to him. His face is gentle as he moves across the floor.

“Hope you’re hungry, Zaid.”

I sit upright as he arrives. Taking the plate into my hands, I set it on my lap. Looking down at the food, I blink several times. My mind isn’t playing tricks. I smell the aroma of the warm meat and rice.

“You feeling okay, kid?”

My gaze looks back at him. “I’m fine.”

He glances down at my injured hand. “That bandaging was done pretty well. I checked it over when I found you. Was it your friend?”

I nod.

“They must’ve really cared about you. It’s good that you were with people you loved when all this began. Many weren’t so lucky.”

“They were… the best thing I could have asked for. More than I deserved.”

Ethan is silent for a moment. “Make sure you eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

I almost ask him where he found the food, but I stop myself. It doesn’t really matter.

He takes a step back, preparing to leave. “Try and get some rest tonight, Zaid.”

“Ethan?”

“Yes.”

“I…” Reliving the blast that took my friends, reliving the chaos, my voice and eyes start to tremble. “I don’t want to die.”

Uttering those words drives a spear right through my soul. Tears begin welling in my eyes as all the losses flood back. Ethan’s hand gently comes onto my shoulder. His eyes grow more genuine. “I know you’re scared, Zaid. Everybody is. But don’t let that control you.”

I can’t reply.

“You’re missing your friends and your family. I heard you after I left. I want to tell you that… it’s okay. But you have to be strong. If for nothing else, do it to honor their memory. If you can’t be strong for yourself, do it for them, Zaid. That’s what they’d want. I know it.”

My gaze leaves him as I slowly nod. He’s trying to console me the only way he can, but his words do little to help. I don’t think what I’m facing is something that anybody can take away with just a few words.

Ethan starts to head back towards the corridor. He moves slowly, as if contemplating whether or not he should stay with me. When he’s halfway to the door, my voice cuts into the air. “Why would you do that, Ethan?”

He stops and turns around. “Do what?”

“Come to a place like this?”

Ethan glances away for a moment. His eyes seem distant as he replies, “Because there are things more important than my own life. And if I can save one life, I may have just as well saved humanity.”

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.