Posts Tagged ‘Abused Soul’

Abused Soul #1

February 15, 2010

Dang! I am late!

I woke up at 7:30 this morning realizing the fact that I am late to my first morning class thinking and blaming myself for the long hours I have stayed the night before.  I call my mom on the way down the stairs and tell her how much I have missed her.

I walk into the kitchen barefooted feeling the chill in my feet because of the cold floor and I greet my dad and make myself some coffee and picked up the news paper…

So, how’s it looking today? Any good news at all?, my dad disturbed my deep thoughts like always.

No, I replied. As always there has to be some bad news to ruin the start of your day.  I finish my coffee and hurry to my room to get dressed. My sight falls on a little piece of paper with a little message from my ex boyfriend, “Farah, call me when you wake up. I missed your voice”, I miss those days… I and he were so tight and so lovely oh well; I leave the thought and finish dressing.

I leave the house after kissing my dad’s cheek and hugged my brothers. I look at the baby blue skies and think of the day I had to stand at the borders of Rafah for 7 straight hours under the burning sun waiting for the officer’s mercy to let us in, yet no use… My mother got tired of waiting and my brothers started whining, “Why do we have to go to Gaza? What if the “Jews” start dropping rockets on us, mom let’s leave!” Omar kept questioning the reason why we had to go to Gaza. He was too young to realize the fact that we NEED to see our grandparents and our land for once in our life time even if we didn’t have the chance to live there…

I arrive at the station where I waited another half an hour to get on the train. Why did I sleep so late last night! Farah, God dammit! I kept blaming myself.  I look around the brown like walls that are covered with colourful graffiti; I truly enjoy those pieces of art done by maybe Negros, white people, or maybe Asians… Whoever they are they fall under some kind of race.

The word Arab and brown were always some of the words I hated the most. Something that I was described. Terrorist is another word I was called by those who think they are better. But who cares… In the end we all fall under some kind of race whether it’s Arab, or brown.

I always thought this neighbourhood was peaceful and quite until the day I was followed by a few racist “Jews” who wanted to hurt me because of all my work for my beloved Palestine. You’re a bitch, you know nothing and you’re brainwashed by what your fucking parents have taught you over the years. They have beaten me, slapped me, pulled my scarf and laughed at me. I was left bleeding on the ground until an old lady saw me and called the police. I hate them all! I hate every single hater in this world that is out to abuse an innocent person. What have I ever done to them for them to beat me? I feel helpless…

Thankfully the train has arrived because I was seconds away from crying over those days…