Cry to the Sky

*thoughts*

Our Father in heaven

Do your eyes turn to this wasteland ?

hallowed be your name.

I have no one else to turn to

Your kingdom come,

This is no place for good

your will be done,

What about what I want ?

on earth as it is in heaven.

what's left of it


         Chop Chop Chop Mona mechanically cut the carrots into rationed portions for lunch . Her mind drifted to the boy who walked out of the kitchen door an hour ago with his head held high and shoulders stiff with victory. He flashed her a grin that would put Syria's dismaying spirit to shame. Salah , her 12 year old son , had demanded that he sees his friends at the market again . A flat-out No rested on the tips of her tongue but Salah's pale complexion and desperate eyes held her back . On seeing her hesitance to shoot him down ,the brunet promised he wouldn't be gone for long and took off laughing . His laugh was music to her ears compared to the BOOM of the ever frequent bombs.
         An hour later found her glancing to the window anticipating his return while her skillful hands directed the knife to its target. Unfortunately , the knife must have shared her anxiety because it nicked her finger . Dropping the knife in surprise , she began to nurse her bleeding finger feverishly .Eventually , she gave up and headed to the bathroom but not before giving the window one last pleading glance. She ignored the family photos that included her embracing her late husband. Her cold bed was reminder enough of her broken family, a result of the ongoing war in her homeland . Turning the lights on , she ran lukewarm water on her finger. A minute later, banging on her door sent her flying to answer . The frantic mother almost threw the wooden door off its hinges. But The oddest site greeted her . A girl , not older than Salah, rested on her knees , her fist still poised to knock . Her black hair stuck to her sweaty face and she was shaking terribly. Breaking out of her stupor , Mona reached down to help the hurt child but recoiled when the little girl's pupils dilated and her body stilled to a statue . Mona shrunk back in fear at the now corpse on her doorway . A scream rang out ahead . Her heart beat erratically against her chest and she caught site of horde of people running away from the market. All she could think off was her son emitting screams of terror as well. The thought was enough to send her straight to whatever horror lay in the market.
         She took off , leaving a silent prayer for the fallen girl and praying that the same fate had not befallen her only son. Soon, it became too difficult to navigate around the people and she slammed into a merchant . As if snapped out of a trance , the elder man grabbed Mona by her shoulders and shoved her backwards , silently warning her not to take another step forward. Nevertheless , she sidestepped him and continued. Had she taken a second look at the merchant's face , she would have seen his running nose and teary eyes. Moans and screams echoed as people coughed and convulsed on the ground . She vaguely remembered Salah gushing about a horror movie he watched where people mysteriously die of a deadly gas. Mona felt tears prick her own eyes ,and they found their way down her face . she tried to wipe them away but to no avail .
She ran blindly until she was sent crashing to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Bodies surrounded her , many already drained of life. But one cough resounded greatly in her ears. She whipped her head around and spotted Salah a few feet away . Half blind, she crawled over to him and turned him over to assess the damage on his body . She found none and a quick look at the other bodies gave her the same result. He cracked an eye open and she squeezed his hand until he uttered his next words " who's there ?" . He couldn't see her . Her son lost his vision . Salah was dying and her bravado shattered. She didn't mind her unwilling tears anymore. Another funeral would only destroy the remains of the first.
         "Salah it's me ! Stay awake!" ,she hollored . Salah's eyes widened in recognition ,and he cracked a small smile that paled in comparison to his morning smile; the morning she let him go. She draped his arm over her shoulder and heaved up only to collapse a moment later . Salah grunted and lay limply at her side. Her panic grew tenfold when her own breathing became labored. The gravity of the situation finally crashed on her trembling shoulders. There would be not one but two funerals. Salah's grip on her hand slackened and his eyelids dropped. In the midst of an open graveyard, a prayer rung out from a grief stricken mother clinging to her dying son.
Give us this day our daily bread,

Don't take my dear son away

and forgive us our debts,

I'll do anything in return

as we also have forgiven our debtors.

Curse them and their damn war

And lead us not into temptation,

let him live

but deliver us from evil.

and take me instead