Kidnapped Memories

• Seyed Amir Mahdi Shobeiri Nejad, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2015

The sirens in the streets wailed with agony. The tattered earth beneath my feet trembled. The antique glass windows shattered one after another. The ceiling drowned the floor with its crumbled debris.
We were in the house when the endless rockets plummeted towards our civilisation. We were there when our friends and neighbours took their last breath. We were there when innocent lives were mercilessly taken. We were there when war broke out.
It was a time of which I will never forget. It was a time when the thirst for power, blinded humanity from the truth, the purity and the prosperity.
The conflict existing between the two nations had a dark, consistent history which reached its climax during my childhood. I was only six when war broke loose and left behind nothing but devastation, anguish and sorrow. I was only six when death and suffering passed before my eyes and scarred my pure soul till the day I live.
I had a friend, a really close friend. We used to play in the deserted streets, using whatever that was scattered around us to entertain ourselves. With all the danger and insecurity the war had created, there was no difference whether we stayed at home or wandered in the open streets. We always met under the only tree probably existing in all that dry land and from there we would think of a game to let the cursed time pass. One morning, as usual, I woke up and went towards our meeting place but saw no one. I waited for what could have been a long, tiring hour. When my patience breached its limits, I decided to go to his house and find out what the problem was. Suddenly, a rocket flew and collided with a house not far away as I could easily hear its heart shattering bang. At that moment I thought about the stream of emotions associated with that specific incident. Were there any survivors? I did not know and tried looking ahead to my day running around and laughing as an attempt to hide the bitter reality of my people's lives. It was when I reached my friend's street that the tormented cries could be heard. I walked closer and before I knew it, I was standing in the swarm of relatives, friends and neighbours mourning to the death of my friend and his entire family buried deep within the wreckage, once their cherished home. I cannot find words to describe what I felt at that very moment, however, I know for sure that my world was torn to pieces. Days passed by; no fun, no games and no love or hope for life.
It was not very long before continuous rockets eliminate all that was around us one after another. Even though my surroundings vanished with a blink of an eye, I had my beloved family by my side.
Never underestimate the power and enchantment of families nor the venom of war.