Beyond the Tigris River

Snowflakes lazily drift from the sky as Sarah and I, both just fourteen, toil in the biting cold of our family's apple orchards.

 Mike, at ten, exudes fierce determination, while Amina, a mere eight years old, possesses a quiet intensity. 

They assist us with unwavering dedication. The tranquility of the snowy mountains envelopes us until it's shattered by a sound we've tragically grown accustomed to: our mother Alecia's strained cries echoing through the crisp air.

Without hesitation, Mike and Amina grasp the metal tilling tools, their small frames trembling with a mixture of fear and resolve. Sarah and I, tears already welling in our eyes, sprint after them, our hearts pounding with dread. Bursting into our family's wooden cottage, the warmth of the fire fails to dispel the chill of fear that grips us.

Inside, the scene unfolds in a nightmare tableau. Our mother, Alecia, lies sprawled naked on the bed, her haggard form a stark contrast to the pristine snow outside. The tension in the air is palpable as our father's voice booms with unchecked rage, his anger ignited by some trivial offense, as always.

Father has a metal rod pressed deep into mother's navel and she can barely breathe.

"Take the kids out!" Alecia's desperate plea cuts through the chaos, her voice a brittle echo of her former strength. With fierce determination born of desperation, I wrench Mike, Amina, and Sarah away from the horror unfolding before us. But before I can fully grasp the gravity of the situation, Mike and Amina break free, their eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to protect.

In a whirlwind of chaos and desperation, they lunge at our father, their young voices swallowed by the cacophony of violence. And then, in a moment that stretches into eternity, Mike and Amina's makeshift weapons find their mark, and our father crumples to the ground with blood streaming from his head. His sudden stillness a chilling testament to the finality of his reign.

As Sarah and Alecia's cries of shock and horror fill the air, I stand frozen, my mind struggling to comprehend the irreversible chain of events that has unfolded before us. There is no remorse in Mike and Amina's eyes as they cover our mother's nakedness with a blanket, their movements swift and efficient. Yet, beneath the facade of calm, a simmering rage burns in their eyes, hinting at depths of emotion I dare not explore.

They embrace mother tightly, their young arms offering a fragile sense of comfort amidst the chaos. And in that moment, as the snow continues to fall in silent witness to our tragedy, I realize that our lives will never be the same again.

As the chaos begins to settle, I find myself in a surreal moment, my senses heightened as I take in the scene before me. Alecia, still in pain from the beating, is held close by Mike and Amina, their grip unusually tight, their demeanor unlike anything I've seen before. The anger radiating from them is palpable, a dangerous energy swirling around us.

With a sense of urgency, Sarah and I exchange a silent glance, understanding the gravity of the situation. We know we must act quickly to protect our family. I nod to Sarah, silently instructing her to seek help from our neighbors while I tend to our mother's injuries.

Carefully, I apply medicine to Alecia's stomach, my hands trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. I block out the sounds of Mike's angry outburst directed towards our father's lifeless body, his rage a force to be reckoned with. Amina joins him, her usually calm demeanor replaced by a fierce protectiveness over our mother.

"How dare you harm mama?!!!" Mike's voice reverberates through the room, filled with a dangerous rage that even I, his older sister, cannot help but feel afraid of.

Soon, Sarah returns with help, five men and three women who are convinced that our father's death is nothing more than a tragic accident. Relief washes over me momentarily, but it is short-lived as I notice a sudden and calculated change in Mike and Amina's behavior. They begin to cry for our father, their tears seemingly genuine, their expressions those of innocent victims.

Fear grips me as I watch the transformation unfold before my eyes. At my age, I struggle to comprehend how Mike and Amina are able to switch so seamlessly from aggression to false mourning, their ability to manipulate the situation leaving me feeling powerless and unsettled.

As the neighbors tend to our family, I can't shake the feeling that our lives have been irrevocably changed, and that the road ahead will be filled with challenges we never could have imagined. But for now, all I can do is hold onto the hope that we will find a way to navigate this new reality together, as a family united in both love and secrets.

To be continued.