a war story
Yawn Jadid
The beginning
As I hear the engines of the bombing jets roar above our heads I know that the solders will kill my family next. We all huddle in a corner, clinging on to each other for dear life. I hear mama crying, she knows this is the end. We hear loud pounds on the door and I know that it is the solders. They kick open the door and aim there guns at us. This is it I was thinking this is it. I cuddle up into a ball in the corner sobbing, the feeling of death was so real, I am terrified. I know I am going to die, so close my eye’s and reflect on my life:
My name is Aibtisama, which means smile in Arabic. Mama named me this because when I was born I smiled, rather than cried. I am 15 and live I the war torn country of Somai. I don’t know why there is war, I was born unto war and I will die unto war. I never ask mama, war reminds mama of papa. He was taken to fight as a solder, and one day we saw each solder return home one by one, but papa never came home. We also lost the youngest child in our family: Shams. She was so curious and bright, I loved her. Me and Shams always used to go to the Yawn Jadid mountains and watch the sunset on it, and I would read to her The Outsiders, and we would pretend to be Ponyboy and Johnny. We had shared so many wonderful memories. Then one day on Shams tenth birthday she wandered of onto the Yawn Jadid mountains, and we never found her. My family assumes that Shams was dead because a ten year old couldn’t possibly survive a war on her lonesome. Yawn Jadid was said to have no end, the mountains went on forever. I think that Shams is somewhere in those mountains watching sunsets and reading.
I open my eyes again and see the solders dragging mama outside.
“Mama!” I yell “Mama where are you going!” Mama is crying when I try to grab her from the solders, but the one holding her turns and shoots the gun at me, missing me by an inch.
“Aibtisama! Go! Run!” She sobs, “Go and run away Aibtisama, somewhere far! Go! Run!”
The solder looks down at her with the gun pointing at her chest.
“Don’t shoot her!” I am sobbing too now. The solder stares at me, then back at mama.
“Run Aibtisama! Run!” I look at her, and I dart out of the door, right past the solder. It was a miracle that I wasn’t shot.

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