Stolen Lives, Newer Dawns
“Baba, why can’t we go together?”
“Ameera, my love—”
“Shh, Baba, not that name.” Zayed, my ever-so-responsible son, corrected me. Wasn’t he just 10 years old yesterday, begging for a new cap?
“Thank you, Zay—I mean Jared.” The new names didn’t come easily. How could I forget the names my wife had chosen, whispering them like blessings the day they were born? But I had no other choice. The violence had already taken her. I couldn’t lose them, too.
“Amy, I know you’re scared. But we’ll meet soon.”
“Pinky promise?” She held up her little finger.
“Promise,” I whispered, wrapping mine around hers.
The airport was a hive of chaos—an endless sea of people weeping, shouting, and fleeing. Fear and desperation clung to us like a second skin.
Uniformed officers barked orders. One paper. One passenger.
One chance.
No mistakes.
No mercy.
Ameera slipped her hands into mine. We stepped forward, documents in hand, rehearsed lies ready on our tongues. For weeks, we had practiced hard to erase the past.
Truth was a threat; a luxury that we couldn’t afford.
As the officer examined the papers, his gaze lingered on our faces a beat too long, and my heart pounded. Forgery meant death. I was promised these papers were clean. I had bought them with everything we had. Our home, our goats, clothes, and even Zayed’s beloved bicycle.
Much to my relief, he gave a curt nod. “Unaccompanied minors. Gate 29.”
We walked ahead in silence.
“Baba, your papers?” Ameera whispered, tugging at my sleeve.
“At home,” I lied, “I’ll join you soon.” I fastened her mother’s chain around her neck—the last piece of our past she would carry with her.
I knelt and adjusted Zayed’s backpack. “You remember everything?”
He nodded. “A woman in a green scarf will help us through immigration and accompany us on the flight. Once we land, she’ll put us on a bus that’ll drop us at the border, where we plead for asylum. Displaced orphans.” His voice cracked. “But, we are not orphans; we have you…” He hugged me so tightly, it hurt to even breathe.
“You have me. Always.”
“But we won’t!” He clenched his trembling fist.
I held him tight, as his body shook against mine. “It’s for the best. You’ll have a future. You’ll be safe and secure.”
“You’ll find us?”
“I promise.”
With a final wave, they walked towards immigration, their backs growing smaller with each step. Ameera turned one last time, eyes brimming with tears. Zayed didn’t turn at all.
I didn’t call out, didn’t run after them. Instead, I stood at the airport, watching them walk away, not knowing when or if I’d see them again.
My heart ached. Every breath echoed with their absence.
I wanted to crumble, end it all. But I had to carry on.
For them.
Outside, the sun rose bright—a cruel reminder that every sunrise was a day stolen from the life we should have lived together.
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Stolen Lives, Newer Dawns is my 499 word story submission for #Five00-23 contest hosted by ArtoonsInn.