Ameen, a 14-year-old boy, walked alone through a crooked lane, clutching his red doll as the sky wept in a woeful rhythm. At last, he entered his home and picked up a pen half-filled with blue ink to write a letter to his beloved mom and dad. His love for them was still evident in the opening of the letter, where he addressed his mother as "Ummi..." Yet he knew they had been killed in a missile strike that had hit like lightning, unlike his younger sister, who still waited for their return, hoping they would bring her sweets.
Soon, Ameen felt a burning hunger in his stomach, so he went with his sister to the refugee camp and ate a hearty meal. Afterward, he began crafting sculptures out of clay and painted them as soon as they were finished. His blue eyes shimmered with tears, carrying a torrid tide of both grief and joy. When he completed the sculptures of his mom and dad, he fixed his blue eyes upon them, unable to look away. Later, he walked to his neighbour's house. As he was running, a piercing alarm echoed from the refugee camp. The moment its sound crashed into his ears, he sprinted back as fast as he could and grabbed his beloved sister. Even then, he carefully carried the clay figures of his parents with him.
Later, he took them out and handed them to his sister. While she was playing with them, a sudden rain of missiles descended upon them. The air itself felt like a ticking time bomb before the explosions began. In that instant, his mind flashed back to the night he had lost his mom and dad—the night his dreams took flight, the night hope slipped through his fingers, the night he lost everything. And now, at last, he was going to be happy, for he believed he would be reunited with them. Perhaps these fiery ripples would grant him and his sister a second chance to live with the family they had lost.
