It has been 4 years since I left my childhood memories, a place that I call it home - home that our feet may leave, but our hearts and memorizes stay immortal in it, the place that I proudly call my mother, Syria. I have never imagined myself leaving it, until the day came and watch my family, and my friends fade as I rise to the clouds. I glanced my final look to immortalize the beauty of it in my mind, before my kidnapper take me away with his huge wings.
After hours of flying, I arrived to the city of camels, the city of desert, Dubai. At the time, a feeling of joy erupted me, as I see for the first time in 13 years my father, That is right I grew up without my father, without my protector, becoming the family’s second father, taking care of my mother and my small brother. When I remembered this memory, suddenly I felt deplorable, Was it because I left my country Syria? Was it because my father left us alone? A feeling that I didn’t know its core. When I walked out of the airport, hell was waiting for the visitors. The sun was above my head, pools of water were hiding under the road as we were touring the city.
The new city opened for me the door of knowledge, the door that millions of children dreamed of. In addition, it taught how to be loyal towards my friends, it taught me how to respect them, and they became part of my sole, part of the life that I could not have without them.
In those four years, a sentence changed our whole life “carpe diem”, since then we were living my life, as it should be, not caring of the consequences, not caring about living or God taking his gift back.