As I watched the kids hiding from behind the collapsed building of bricks, looking out in fear of what’s about to come next, a tear rolled down my cheeks. While there are some of them who are actually playing with each other, those few are still living a life filled with terror. Their innocent eyes showed how afraid they are to go out into the streets playing when images of the bombings and blood of their innocent family and friends are still fresh in their pure helpless mind.

I tried calling out to them to come over to me but they were too afraid to do so. Their little body shake with so much fear that I have to come and kneel to hug them tightly and whisper, “It’s ok, everything is better now.” Slowly, I could feel their little hands wrapped around me and their cheeks resting on my chest. Little sobs can be heard and I hugged them even tighter. My mind wonder as to how someone can be so greedy to the extent of creating a war just so he could have all the lands to extend his country. Too many innocent lives are lost, too many children and woman are killed and so many soldiers are injured. Why can’t they just be content with the amount of land they have? Why do they have to take away something that doesn’t belong to them and what’s worst, why do they have to leave this people even more helpless than they already are?

Slowly, the little body pulled away from me and looked at me. Wondering who am I and what I’m going to do with them. While still sobbing slightly, I looked right through her. Those eyes. They had each and every of my body hair stands and body feels cold and shiver by just imagining the hurt and pain that she has gone through. If just by looking at her makes me feel that way, then what about her, who was at the scene when everything happens right infront of her eyes? I felt weak, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I feel so sorry for her that I cried. That same small hand hold my face and wiped my tears away. Then she smiled. Within a course of a few minutes, she’s now leading me to 1 of the tunnel where they call it their safest hideout. She handed me a glass of water and as I was reluctant to take it from her. How can I? They need it more than me yet are kind enough to offer me what they have little left for themselves. Such is an act of humanity, caring for others despite going through the worst time of their lives.

“Lia, lia, wake up. Are you ok?” I woke up abruptly, looking around for the little girl but she was nowhere to be found and the only person I saw was my friend who woke me up when she realised that I was crying.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” “What happen? You seem to be reaching your hand out for something and then tears rolling down your face.”

I look at her and shake my head, “Not now. Someday I’ll tell you.”

“Alright then. I’m going out now. See you for dinner.”

As soon as she closed the door, I reached out for my handphone and sat down at the balcony of my rented apartment. There was a message in my messenger. I smiled. It was my friend from Gaza. I hope she is doing well. Though I really don’t know what is going on in Gaza, I wish that soon it will all come to light and that Gaza and their country will be free.

Sister Lia, Love You frm Gaza”> Sister Lia, Love You frm Gaza[/captio
*Real story that I have encountered.

[Writing 101, Day 2: A Room with a View Prompt: Today, choose a place to which you’d like to be transported if you could — and tell us the backstory. How does this specific location affect you? Is it somewhere you’ve been, luring you with the power of nostalgia, or a place you’re aching to explore for the first time?

Today’s twist: organize your post around the description of a setting.]