https://youtu.be/uNGmyQ8UbZ8

She awoke a few minutes later covered in dust and debris. Elena was fortunate that she was not badly injured. The shelling had been further up ahead and so the people in her area were not as badly impacted. She wiped the dust off of her sweaty face. Her green scarf had been torn and her back was lightly scraped, but she was okay. She winced as she stood up.

"Amir!" She yelled in her broken, raspy voice.

She stumbled across the street heading in the direction she last found him. She saw bodies lying about, blood-stained and deformed in such a manner that made Elena shudder.

"No, no, no," Elena shook her head viciously. "No...No."

How lucky she was. Some people were slowly getting up, wincing and screaming in agony. Her arm was covered in her own blood from her opened stitches. A sharp pain ran through her left leg. A shard of glass was jammed into her palm which she gingerly took out, muffling a scream.

She looked up at the cloudy sky and smelt burning flesh and smoke. The buildings around her were shattered. Just a couple of minutes ago, they stood tall and people were passionately protesting, asking for their human rights. She grabbed what was left of her scarf and wrapped it around her arm and hand quickly to stop some of the bleeding. She felt so weak. Elena began whimpering. She couldn't find anyone. She trudged along and was met with hollow stares, screams of shock, and heartbroken crying. A middle-aged man held his dead son in his lap and quietly cried, rocking back and forth. 

Elena tripped over a body. This couldn't be real. She looked down at her shoes that were covered with drying blood and debris.

She saw a woman on the ground, her leg was twisted in an unnatural way and she clutched onto something. The way her leg was bent, made Elena want to throw up on the spot. Elena heard the crying of a baby. It sounded like Amal and it was coming from the woman with the broken leg. Elena went numb realizing who the person was - Aziza.

"Elena," She whispered as Elena wiped the debris from the woman's face.

Elena bent down and frowned and then her eyes widened.

"Aziza!" She cried out, bending down beside her.

She was on her side and her arms were wrapped around Amal who was crying.

"Oh, God. Oh God, Aziza!" Elena said when she saw the dark puddle of blood pooling around her.

"It's okay, Elena," Aziza faintly smiled at her.

A shard of glass had ripped through Aziza's left side and had punctured a main artery.

"Please take Amal," Aziza said between short breaths.

"You'll be fine," Elena assured herself, nodding to herself. "You'll be fine. Just hang in there, Aziza."

These were empty words. They both knew the outcome of this. Aziza was slowly slipping away. Elena pressed her hands against the large wound in Aziza's side as her hands became sticky with warm blood.

"Please take Amal," Aziza said again.

The little girl was covered in dust. Her mother had wrapped her in a thick blanket to protect her. Elena's bloody hands tenderly pried her out of Aziza's arms and she burst into tears when she saw Amal. She was unharmed but she had her mother's blood stained on her fragile cheeks and was covered with smoky dust.

"Oh, God!" Elena cried out again, shocked by the situation.

"It's okay Elena," Aziza assured her in her raspy breath. "Please take care of Amal."

"You'll be fine!" Elena fiercely declared through her tears, pressing harder against her side with one hand while the other held a quiet Amal.

Aziza took shorter breaths and her eyes became glassy. She lay limp on the floor amid the debris.

"Help!" Elena called out in a hoarse voice and looked around her. "Someone help me, please! Saeadani!"

She got blank stares from the people who survived.

"I want you to," Aziza said, shakily reaching out for Elena's hand, barely able to speak. "Go to my father. In Gaziantep. I want you to tell him. To tell him I tried my very best."

Aziza's clammy hand gripped tighter around Elena's while her tears poured down.

"Please, Aziza," Elena whispered. "Don't do this."

"You have been like my sister, habibti," Aziza sadly smiled, squeezing Elena's shuddering hand. "You filled the hole. The hole in my heart."

A single tear slipped down her round face. Amal began wailing in Elena's arms.

"Goodbye, my sweet angel," Aziza smiled at her daughter, shakily grabbing onto her tiny hands. "Mama will. Will always love you."

Amal concernedly looked at her mother and began to wail. Elena cried harder as Aziza looked up at the sky, a calmness descended her. Aziza was so tranquil amid the chaos that Elena wanted to shake her shoulders and make her realize the horrific situation. But, Aziza had already accepted that her time in this world was up. Aziza's other shaky hand, curled up in a fist, reached out for hers.

"This," Her breathing quickened. "Is a note. From Andreas. For you. He wanted to give it to you. In case he didn't make it."

Aziza was exhausted and her face lost its usual glow. Elena reached into Aziza's bloody palm and took the crumpled note.

"I hope," Aziza said again, holding onto her hand. "That fate will be kind. To you. And you and Andreas. Will be together again."

"And I love you, Elena," She painfully smiled and let out a shallow breath. "My dear. My dear sister."

"Please!" Elena whimpered. "Please don't do this! You'll be fine. Just hang in there!!"

Elena looked around again and called for help, but no one came. Her breathing quickened. When she looked back at Aziza, her head had lulled to one side. Her hand that held Elena's was still warm. 

She was gone.

"I love you, too," Elena croaked, kissing Aziza's forehead. "Habibti."

Elena gulped down her tears. Her stomach twisted in agony. She held Amal against her and the baby cried uncontrollably.

She took one last look at her best friend, her sister, her habibti. Her disheveled hair, her blood-stained eyelids. Elena could still imagine her cheeks turning pink as Aziza laughed. Now, their colour was faded to a pale grey.

Elena tried standing up but it was as if she had forgotten how to stand. When she finally managed to get up, she looked for Amir and Andreas. She feared the worst. Elena could not console Amal at the moment. More gunshots were heard in the next street and Elena ran as fast as her numb legs could carry her. She ran against the flow of the crowd which was a target of open fire. Gunshot after gunshot was heard as people fell down like dominos. Elena kept running.

They're not dead. They're not dead. They'll be fine. Just keep running, Elena thought to herself.

Amir was right there. Near the back of the crowd. He was crouched beside a demolished building. He was holding flowers in his right hand. They were white lilies. Elena let out a breath of relief as she sprinted towards him.

"Ms. Elena!" He cried, tears pouring down his petrified face. "Ms. Elena! Help!!"

Elena viciously grabbed him by the arm and ran back to follow the rest of the crowd as more gunshots and screaming pierced the smoky air.

She tripped over bodies and shards of glass. There were so many bodies it was like walking through the land of the dead.

Then, Amir slowed and let out a small whimper. Elena turned around to see blood pooling out from his stomach area. Amir looked at her in horror and the lilies fell from his hand. He fell to his knees and looked up towards the dimming, grey sky.

"Amir!!" Elena screamed as she scooped him up in her other arm.

She ran into one of the buildings and laid him down on the floor in the midst of the debris. He was breathing quickly. Elena held onto his hand and knew he wasn't going to make it but she smiled at him holding back a scream. He smiled back at her and then turned rigid as a stone. 

He was dead. 

His heart wasn't beating and there was no pulse. Elena pulled his eyelids down onto his ocean blue eyes. 

He remained limp in her bloody hands. Elena held the body close to herself. She rocked back and forth with his head in her arms, kissing his small forehead. Elena had never felt such immense emotional pain, not even when her father died. Elena didn't play favourites as a teacher, but the little boy had stolen her heart.

"Oh, Amir," Elena whispered. "You naive boy."

She felt numb. Amal had stopped crying and looked at Amir with a concerned expression. Elena kissed the little boy's forehead and barely stood up again. 

Suddenly, a vehicle arrived at the end of the street and volunteers came out. They rushed over to everyone, bringing handheld stretchers. The rescue workers hurried, picking bodies up, dead and alive. They laid Amir down on one of the stretchers. Elena picked up the white lilies which Amir had dropped earlier and placed them in his pale hands lying limply against his chest. She kissed his forehead and held back a shaky sob. 

"Goodbye, my little flower," Elena whispered into his ear.

Amir would bring her a flower every single day before the school day began. He would always run up to her, with a bashful smile and bright, blue eyes and give her a different type of flower from daisies to daffodils to lilies to roses to dandelions. And now, he was gone. He would no longer be there to add a flower to the vase that sat on her desk. Maybe Fatima was right: if you love someone or something too much, it goes away.

"Andreas!" Elena yelled.

She looked at the bodies being collected. She couldn't see him anywhere. She asked one of the workers in Arabic if they had seen a young man with curly hair and green eyes. They shook their heads. Of course, it was a stupid question. She needed to find him. Maybe he was hiding somewhere. Maybe it was a good sign that he wasn't found yet. Right? Right? Elena felt her head spin. 

A worker tapped her on the shoulder. He pointed to her arm which had a steady stream of blood pouring out. Her stitches had opened up. She numbly stared at him.

"They're gone," She said in English. "They're all gone."

Elena looked at the worker's fading face as she felt her legs crumble underneath her and she began to fall. The worker quickly pried Amal from her arms.

"Andreas," Her small voice croaked. "Andreas. Where is he?"

The worker caught her before she hit the ground and laid her on the stretcher.

"Amal," She barely managed to say to the worker in Arabic, pointing to the baby. "Make sure she is safe. Salim. Salim."