The better place

The better place

A Story by Truths reflection
"

Remember the competition I told u about well this is the story i participated with.

"
I was about to go to bed and my mom was reading me a story from my large storybook. The story talked about a boy who loved studying and wanted to become a surgeon. One day the sky rained black boxes. Each box was meant for a child in the world. The boy received his and learned that it was a wishing box. Whatever he wished would come true as long as he asks nicely. He asked the box to become the famous surgeon he always wanted to be, not forgetting his please and thank you.
I don't know what happened next because my mom told me that I should sleep now and that she will complete the story for me the next day.
Late in the night, I woke up to a weird high boom voice that almost shredded my eardrum. I went to the window to see what was that voice, and I saw black boxes falling down from the sky slowly.
I was so excited and I started jumping up and down, with happiness thinking what I could wish for. Should I wish that I become a doctor? Or an engineer? Or to have all the toys in the world? Or even the highest marks in class?
No! I know! I figured it out!
I will wish that Amr will come back. 2 years ago when he went, mom told me he was gone to a better place but I'm sure that he isn't happy without me neither am I happy without him.

That was the last thing I remembered when I woke up on that lonely sad boat in the mid of the sea.

I didn't know what was going on. My head hurt so bad and my right hand was so hard to move. When I managed, after a lot of effort, to sit upright I saw my uncle and his wife.
They saw me wake up, and a wave of relief passed upon their faces as they approached me. They drowned me with questions." How are you? Does your head hurt? Can you move your right hand? " And many others like these, they were annoying, but I knew they didn't mean any harm. They only wanted to check on me.

" I am fine, " was my reply " but where are my parents? And where are my cousins Rand, Moussa, and Isa? " as I couldn't see any of them anywhere.


" Oh sweaty, " said my uncle's wife, with a tone filled with sorrow " they are all in a better place now". I felt that she was about to cry.

My eyes started filling up with tears myself " that's unfair, so unfair, why do they get to go there and I don't"

Both my uncle and his wife stared at each other, and they didn't know what to say in response.

I really wished I knew where that place is, so I can go to them and stay with them, but as long as they are in a better place and that they are happy I guess I am happy too.

The ship was crowded with many people all looking tired and worn out. It was so crowded, and voices were coming from everywhere. Kids were crying, babies screaming, and women sobbing. And I was just sitting there listening to the harmony of all those agonizing voices. Although they were voices of suffering and sadness, they were music to my ears.
I still wonder why. Is that normal? I don't think so.

When the night fell, and the moon set its colors and brushes in the sky, people started falling asleep one by one and the moon was mixing its colors together to let them all forget that they are on a ship in the middle of nowhere, and instead take them to wonderland, to let them have fun, and feel happy at least in their dreams.

That's what my aunt told me once when I went to sleep at her house, before her death 3 years ago.

They say she died because her house was blown down to shreds when she was sleeping peacefully with her family.

About 50 other people died in that cursed night.

"Why did that happen?" I used my older sister many times, "She was so good, and did never say anything about the government she never deserved to die that way", but the answer was always the same.
" When you grow up, you will understand everything."

I couldn't sleep. I was used to hearing a story before sleeping. I kept sitting uprightly. When my uncle's wife noticed me she called me to the wooden bench, and she asked me what was wrong I told her that I couldn't sleep without a bedtime story.

She looked at me a look filled with... I don't know sadness, sorrow, or maybe a mix both. seriously I didn't know how to describe it. She told me a story about a young boy who loved traveling and decided to go and visit the world.

He talked with a small ship's captain, and after begging him the captain agreed to take him on The Pearl (that was the name of his ship.
There she stopped and told me she will complete the story, tomorrow for me, I begged her to complete it now, because I wanted to her its end, not like the story my mom told me that night, but she pinky promised me to complete it tomorrow, and I agreed and fell asleep.

At about 2 in the morning a woman's screech was heard, and suddenly everyone was swarming around like bees in a beehive.
And if you come in the way of any of them they will sting you with their shout.

People starting asking themselves what they should do. Some fell to their knees and prayed forgiveness from god. I didn't know why people were that scared. Water wasn't scary. We drink it, bathe in it, and even play with it so why?

Then the ship started falling more and more into the water. What did they call this? Sliming... Sinning... Sink. Yes! Sinking, that was a new word, and I heard it for the first time that day. I started becoming scared, and I clutched into the chair strongly and I fell asleep immediately though I didn't want to, I think my body wanted that out of fear.

I started to wake up and I looked around; I saw nothing except the blue water around me. Nobody was there, not my uncle, my aunt or any of the people who were with me on the ship last night.

I was thirsty so I took a handful of sea water and I drank it. It was salty, but I didn't mind that much.

I felt dizzy; as a result, I hugged the chair tightly and fell asleep. I was really hoping that this whole thing would be a nightmare, where I would wake up in my bed at home, and eat breakfast with my parents.

This can't be real, I thought, because what the world would let a five-year-old on a wooden bench all alone in the sea with no parents and family.

What humans, and what humanity is the one that can tolerate all this?

I felt dizzy and went to sleep again

" Oh, my god! "
"Poor boy"
" He is so young to die at an early age"
I woke up and started looking around. I heard many sharp intakes of breath, and then all at once a woman started crying.

Who were they? And where am I?

Then a man dressed as a policeman came and helped me out of the water and took me with him.

I always wanted to get into a police car and although I think this is not the best situation to be excited, but I am really excited for getting in this car for the first time.

That was the last time I saw the sun.
After the police asked me from where I am and what's my name they let me go.
I was in a totally foreign place.

I tried asking a few people what was this places' name, but nobody understood my language. At some point, I learned that I am in Paris, France.

This is the first time I hear about this place.
After a week of my stay.
I felt so hungry and so cold. Winter was starting and I didn't know what to do as I had nowhere to go to.

I tried asking people for help.
I went to the police and did all that I could to save myself, but all those tries didn't lead to anything.

I stayed in the streets, with nothing to eat except food from rubbish, and nothing to keep me warm.

I remembered A story my mom once told me about a little girl who didn't have anybody in this world. No mother No father and her grandmother died after a while, leaving her off to a very mean man who forced her to sell flowers and matches in the streets, to make up money for her living. She was so poor and sad, and she always wished to feel warm or sleep safely or wake up a day without being shouted at. Around the time of the holidays, she felt so sad that she had no family to celebrate with, so one time she went to an aisle and started lighting up the matches in her hand. It was cold Just like today, and she started playing with the light. All her matches finished, and she was scared to go home and get shouted at, and after a lot of thinking, she slept in the aisle she was in, and in the morning the title of all the newspapers was: " The lovely Match girl gone to a better place."

And I still wish to know where this better place is.
on the 14th of Dec. my parents came and visited me along with my aunt and uncle and their kids, and they started talking to me.

where they really there? was I dreaming?

Then my mom asked me if I wanted to go to that better place they are all in and I agreed, so she took my hand.
"Will it hurt?" I asked her
"Just a little bit, but it's for the better I promise?
"If that's it then ok let me come with you "

This whole story is real until the death part.
This story Happens every day all around us.
I am one of the Victims of this whole stupid war that kills people randomly, orphaning kids and widowing women.

I will grow, and I will hold grudges against all the people who had any correlation to these acts of injustice.

Not only because they killed my family, but most importantly they killed my 5-year-old brother Sami, the one his story I told.

I was taken in by the Children's rights organization after they saved me from being a war hostage.
They gave me food, a place to sleep, warmth and education, and that was more than what I could've asked for.

But my brother. My 5-year-old only brother had to face his houses bombing and his boats sinking and surviving till he reached the shores of France. To then find himself in a place where nobody can help him.

When I saw his picture on the TV, my heart broke. Although he was black and dirty, I knew him. I couldn't possibly have mistaken my brother for the whole world.

After I told the principal of my dorm, about this she managed to let me get to the police to understand what happened.

They told me the whole story from the beginning till the end, and I started crying like crazy.

They told me that I had no Family left, as they were all reported dead either in the sea, in my country itself, or even in France.

I was all alone. Nobody was left for me in this life. No mother, no father, no brother, no aunt, no uncle and no cousins.
What am I?
I am no more than a rubbish bin in the streets except the rubbish bins are needed by people and I am not.
Not anymore at least.
I am, just like newspapers described, a jewel which lost its bling after the horrible war.

© 2017 Truths reflection


Author's Note

Truths reflection
Please tell me what u think

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

Love this piece, however using a larger variety of words and more description will go a long way!

Posted 5 Years Ago


I want to continue reading you young man for I believe you will have so many more great works. This refugee crisis is such a sad sad topic. You gave it a believable voice.... write on..

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Truths reflection

5 Years Ago

Thanl you for taking time to read and review my story 😍
And yes indeed the refugee crisis .. read more
Tbear

5 Years Ago

I actually have read a couple more of your works and will be returning..its rather late for me so ma.. read more

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

274 Views
2 Reviews
Rating
Added on February 4, 2017
Last Updated on February 4, 2017

Author

Truths reflection
Truths reflection

Amman, Middle east, Jordan



About
Hi I'm a student at high school obsessed with writing short stories and novels. Read my writing and tell me what you think. I appreciate criticism, because I want to improve. more..

Writing