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27.9%ANMag Issue 27 Personal Maintenance
They Created Me
By Theo Khoury, Contributing Writer
Beirut, Lebanon – The bus arrived at one of its stops, the door opened and as I entered, the driver gave me a look that said, "We have a criminal in our midst." I looked away and moved to the middle of the bus, the exact location I wanted to be.
Tick … Tick … Tick
I sat near the window laying my head on the glass and stared carelessly through the streets. We never seem to notice how chaotic life can be, with people barely noticing each other. But through all the chaos in front of me, a smile caught my eyes, a beautiful young woman with her friend. She smiled from the heart, not one of those false smiles that most people throw out so easily. It reminded me of how my mother used to laugh; a laugh I never saw lately.
Tick … Tick … Tick
My dad died a long time ago. He tried sneaking food through the borders and was shot down. I will never forget that day. Coming to your own home and seeing your mother weeping and screaming isn’t something you can easily forget. Her face mirrored her sadness, how much misery she held in her heart… but she smiled at me anyway with her teary eyes and hugged me for a long time. I had never felt so safe in my life; I was in my mothers’ hands.
Tick … Tick … Tick
I remembered when holding Zeina’s hand was enough to make all my worries go away, I missed that feeling. The last time I held her hand, it was ice cold. She had died a month earlier by a “stray bombing” … and through all the turmoil that surrounded the place, the shouting people, the screams of the injured… I just held her and rocked back and forth. It was agonizing, holding someone you love, actually "had" loved, knowing that they can not be there for you anymore.
Tick … Tick … Tick
I kept hearing my little sister's voice resonating through my head, her not-a-care-in-the world singing just as an army patrol pulled us over for a search. One of them pushed me violently towards the wall, and my sister started shouting at him to leave me alone. I tried to tell her to be quiet, I told her it will be okay… but she didn’t listen, she kept on shouting. Suddenly her voice vanished; I looked over and saw her laying on the ground with blood rolling down her face. The soldier had hit her on the face with the bottom of his rifle and had broken her neck. He looked at me knowingly, guiltlessly, and smiled.
Tick … Tick … Tick
I closed my eyes, imagined myself a kid again, being in my mother's arms and feeling safe. My anger subsided, and for all it was worth, I smiled this time.
BOOOM
They will say that I am a murderer, a terrorist … that I want to kill people. They will use me as an excuse to rationalize their own terrorism, to kill more children and wives and husbands. They will do so with no regret in their hearts or sorrow in their minds, and they will smile to your face knowing all the suffering that they had caused you.
They will tell the world how they are defending themselves from people like me, how I am the cause of all the violence that is happening.
I say they created me.