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Not All Dreams - Original Writing

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Not All Dreams
The sudden sound of soft sobs awakened me from my slumber. Slithering my way out of bed, I sauntered over to the formal dining room of our house. Creeping from behind the door, I tuned in to the conversation that was taking place.
“It’s March 19th, he’s out of time to turn the weapons in,” My mother stated whilst she took down the last hanging painting in our house, with tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes red and her nose stuffy from all the crying she’s been doing all week. “We’re getting invaded.”
“Hey, we’ll be fine,” my dad countered “We’re all stocked up on food and water, we had a guy come and dig a water well in our backyard, the windows are all taped so they won’t shatter, we bought propane tanks for the stove,…show more content…
“Mama, I can’t sleep.” I managed to choke out between heavy breaths and weeping eyes.
“Noor, put on the headphones and close your eyes,” my sister, Basma, responded as she attempted to wipe my tear-stained cheeks. “That 's what Mohammed and I are doing and the electricity is cut off anyway so we might as well get some sleep before we leave in the morning.”
Our small town of Al-Yarmouk had been threatened as the troops were approaching. My father had decided that it would be best for us to depart from our house and head to his family home on the other side of the Tigris River. In the early hours of the morning we packed up the car and locked the doors. My mother collected all of our gold jewelry and put them in a small black box. I saw my mom dig the box in the dirt of our garden. I was puzzled as to why she chose to hide the gold outside, but didn’t think too much of it at the time. I wore my blue noise blocking headphones everywhere. They were far too large for my head, but I was four and I thought that not hearing the gunshots, helicopters, and explosions meant that life was still normal. The journey to my father’s family house was a bizarre experience. Glancing over to the window I was stunned, startled, and surprised by the sight ahead of me. Prisoners who had escaped from the Abu Ghraib prison had reached
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