I was only fifteen when it happened. I was only fifteen when I saw my father murdered and my brother abducted. I was only fifteen when my life turned into a nightmare. I was only fifteen when I took on responsibility of my sister because my mother was no longer able to do so.  I was only fifteen when I had to grow up to let my little sister have a childhood. It has been three years since my life was flipped upside down. We moved from the outermost edges of Saudi Arabia to about an hour away from the capital, Riyadh. The house we live in is much more modern but the threat of terrorism is the same; if not, worse.
Those men took everything from me, and ever since that day I have made it my lifelong mission to find the men who kidnapped my brother and murdered my father. I do not know how I am going to find my brother or where to start, but I know one day we’ll meet again. I have no intention of giving up; I am either going to succeed or die trying. I will avenge my father’s death and destroy every single one of those low- life bastards for what they do in one way or another.
Just the other day, the boy from down the street was blown up in a car bombing killing about twenty. Gunshots and explosions are a daily occurrence, but silence is the most deadly. I want out of this country, but first I must find my brother -
“Adira,” my mother yelled “please make supper for you and Diala. I am going into
the city with a few friends and spending the night in a hotel.”
“Yes mom,” I muttered, trying to hold in my hidden disgust towards her. Ever
since my father died all she does is go out party and meet a good enough looking
men and spend the night with them. I walked down the stairs to see her putting on her rose red lipstick.
“I love you both very much,” she said kissing me and Diala leaving a faint red mark on both our heads.
Before I could say I love you back a car horn beeped and she was out the door in her tiny little black c***tail dress and red heels. Diala and I went into the kitchen and cooked some pancakes, decorating them with assortments of candy, fruit, and flavorful syrups.
Diala was only four when our father was slaughtered and our brother was taken. She claims to remember it, but I know it is a lie because I was holding her when it happened so all she saw were the sandy dunes behind us. I sure miss those dunes. I thought back to one time when I was about six or seven, I was out there looking for bugs when suddenly a huge sandstorm came and when it was over, I did not know which way was home. I was by myself for two days living off insects, and the drinking from the pouch my father insisted I wear whenever I went out exploring. As I wandered around looking for more water, I came upon a baby cub who was all alone drinking from a water hole. I named him Leo and for the next three days we survived off of the stars and direction of the wind until we wandered back to a town, which turned out to be the town right next to Al Jafer. I badly wanted to keep Leo but my mom made me get rid of him. A few days later, Leo and I walked out into the dunes and sat there together until I saw a lioness cooling off in the distance, Leo darted towards the lioness and that is when I ran home crying, heart- broken.
As I read stories to Diala, the silence between pages was almost deafening. Not even the crickets were chirping. As Diala finally dozed off, I went downstairs only to hear a scream coming from across the street. I made the split second decision to grab my knife and see what was going on. As I approached the house, the screams got even louder, and I could hear a man yelling now. A person’s initial thought is to just burst through the front door, but if there are guns or a lot of people you just walked into your own death. Only enter through the door if you know what you are up against. I went around back to see Mr.Bazzi beating his wife through the kitchen window. I knew they had been fighting and that he constantly had too many drinks but I did not think it had escalated to such an abusive level.
“You filthy pig! Why didn’t you clean the dishes when you came home, you
ungrateful ass!” He screamed, grabbing for his gun with rage in his eye’s and hate in his heart.
I ran to the back door slamming it open, Mr. Bazzi looked at me the way a starving wolf stares at a piece of raw meat. He began running towards me with his gun, waving it in air like a mad men screaming nonsense, the smell of liquor was enough to suffocate from. He put the gun right between my eyes, shaking half from fear and the other half from not being able to control himself. I reached in for the gun and lifted it above his head as shots rang out (I used to jump at the sound of a gun-shot but now it doesn’t even phase me a little). I shoved my knee into his abdomen causing him to let out a pitiful moan, dropping the gun. I picked it up and put it right up to his head, I had never put a gun up to someone else's head before, it has always been mine. I felt a strong sense of power and confidence overcome me. He was screaming at me in tears to shoot the gun, to take him out of pain but I just couldn’t. I put the gun under my shirt taking out my knife and without much thought I found myself slicing the side of his face. Three deeps streaks starting from his brow all the way down to his chin. He just layed there crying as mrs. Bazzi lay a few feet away staring, speechless.
I did not know what else to do know, I wanted to call the police and have them take mr. Bazzi away but they are all corrupt and most are double agents informing on everything to terrorist organizations. I started screaming that if he ever touches mrs. Bazzi again I would cut him up into a thousand little pieces. I grabbed my knife and ran out the back door I could barely catch my breath, I broke down crying in the middle of the road. I looked around, had no one else heard her screaming? Why was I the only one that did anything? Am I the only one left that hasn’t given hope? The night suddenly felt much more lonely, I felt a gentle breeze brush against my skin and then I heard footsteps in the distance. I saw a man coming toward me running, as he was about fifty feet away I heard him screaming but I could not make out what he was saying. Next thing I know I’m in his arms and he’s carrying me breathing heavily.  Before I could ask what was going on he turned to an ally and put me down.
“What is going on?” I asked nervously.
“There is a bomb a few hundred yards back, that is going to detonate any minute” the man said trying to catch his breathe.
I looked at him and then started running I had to get Diala, he began reaching for me but I could not leave Diala alone.
I burst through the door screaming at Diala to get up; I met her in the hallway and without any question she jumped on my back, grabbing our emergency pack, and I began to run faster than I ever could. My heart got louder with every foot step. I kept running waiting for the blast to push me and Diala forward. BOOM The ground began to shake, and suddenly the night was filled with a bright fiery ball, I did not stop to look. We made it to the alley where the man had left me, he was in the back corner sitting against an old rusty trash can. I set Diala down and he ran up to me with a look of relief.
“Oh thank God” he send wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead, “I thought I
you were goner. My name is Michael, what’s yours?”
I examined him for a minute looking at his uniform, looking at all his pins. “I’m Adira
and this is my little sister Diala, why are you here?” I replied trying to avoid eye contact.
“I am afraid that is classified information,” Michael said I could feel him staring at me as I looked at my shoes.
“Well I appreciate you saving our lives but I have to get out of town for the night to stay safe” I said motioning to Diala to come on my back.
“Well, I guess I will see you around then,” he said staring into my eyes.
I looked at him, smiling and then Diala and I walked towards the fields. As Diala and I
were walking, I couldn’t help but think about Michael, although we had met just I haven’t felt that safe since when I used to curl up with my parents at night. His eyes were were green enough to feel as if you were lost. The more I tried to not think about him as Diala and I hiked through the fields, the more I wanted to see him again.
Diala and I set up camp about two miles from town, sleeping under the stars. There was no longer silence, all through the night you could hear bombs and random gun fire. I had become used to the noise but Diala still jumped at every bang. As Diala and I lay here, I was overcome with a deep much desired need to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of footprints crunching the plants in the distance. The moon was still high in the sky but looking into the distance I could see the faint light of day breaking through. I began packing up whispering to Diala to wake up. Once I had everything picked up I grabbed Diala throwing her on my back and began running. I did not want to know or even see who was coming towards us. Today doesn’t seem like a good day to die.
It took us about twenty minutes to get back home. For some reason I was expecting the town to look different, but it was the same old, beat up, town I had left last night. As Diala and I entered the house, I was half expecting my mom to be there but I guess she still wasn’t back or maybe she had finally gone home with the wrong guy. Whatever she had gotten into, I didn’t care. My main focus was to keep Diala safe, find my brother and leave this hell hole.
As I began to make breakfast for us, I grabbed for the milk only to find an empty carton.
“Diala turn that off” I said irritably as I put on my boots, “go put on your shoes
we have to go buy some milk”. She just looked at me and rolled her eyes as she went to put on her sandals.
There’s only one grocery store in our town that is within walking distance of our house and isn’t horribly expensive. It was a family ran business called Salib’s and is located in town square. Almost immediately into our walk, Diala began to moan; it used to bother me, but today something seemed off. Besides Diala’s constant complaining about how her feet hurt or that she’s tired, there was hardly any noise. I began to look around noticing we were the only one’s outside. As I turned to look at Diala who was beginning to fall behind I noticed a women in the window staring at us. As soon as we made contact, she closed the blinds as if nothing happened. I started to get a very uneasy feeling in my stomach,but I could see the Salib’s shop now.
Besides the owner Mr. Salib and his son, the shop was empty. The only noise now was the  buzzing from the refrigerators and the flicker of the light above the check out. As I began walking towards the checkout, I heard the faint sound of a car approaching. My heart began to beast faster and faster as the pit in my stomach grew.
“Diala, come one! We have candy at home” I said sternly grabbing her by the arm.
I felt beads of sweat form on my forehead as I got more and more nervous. I began reaching for the door when an old rusty, yellow hyundai crawled to a stop. I knew if I ran, it wouldn’t get very far. The driver exited the car and opened the trunk pulling out a boy who seemed to be in his early twenties. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t pin point where I knew him from.
I quickly realized the boy had a bomb strapped to his chest that looked big enough to make the buildings crumble a mile away. I had two options I could grab the gun in my purse and shoot the driver and go see if I could help the boy, or I could wait for the driver to leave and risk running to the boy as he is being blown up. I looked at Diala and then at the boy with the bomb on him. I grabbed a pair of binoculars from the shelf next to me. I didn’t know what I was looking for exactly; I tried looking for a detonating device or for a timer counting, but I couldn’t find anything. I then focused my gaze on the young man; he had the same scar my brother had gotten on his forehead from when we were little playing out near the border of Yemen. I thought it was just a coincidence, but then he made the same face my brother, Akil did when he was nervous. I knew I couldn’t just sit around and watch him die. I had just accidentally found him, and I was NOT going to  lose him again. I grabbed my Smith and Wesson, and began to line up my shot of the driver.
I took a deep breath, ready to fire. When all of a sudden a gunshot rang out in the distance, and the driver was hit. I ran out of Salib’s towards Akil half out of excitement and half out of fear-
“It’s me Akil! It’s me Adira, your sister” I said crying. He looked up at me shaking
and crying.
“They told me they had you. They said if I did this you, mother and precious little
Diala would be free.” He said crying, “Look at me! You need to get out of here, this
Is set to detonate in ten minutes. I love you so much sister, please tell mother and
Diala how much I love them and that I am sorry”-
Without much thought I ran back into the shop and grabbed Diala. She would see her brother at least one more time. He would not just be a figment of her imagination. As we began saying our final goodbyes, a man in a bomb suit approached us. It was Michael, I was suddenly overcome with emotion.
“Run as far away as you can, don’t look back” he said examining Akil.
I nodded throwing Diala on my back and taking one last look at my brother. As I began to run I began to picture Leo and I racing through the dunes as I looked through the shop windows. He seemed to be guiding me to somewhere safe. I thought back to when we would play out in the dunes for hours, running and jumping, I owe my life to Leo; he saved me. I remember the last day full day I was with Leo as we raced one more time down the side of the dune I beat him. I don’t know if he let me win or if I was just imagining I did under the hot, exhausting arabian sun. 
Before I knew it I had passed my house and was back into the fields where we had spent the night. We stopped, waiting, listening for something, anything. The silence was impeccable. And then it happened. The ground shook as a huge mushroom cloud began slowly rising above the town. I heard the shrieks of people as houses began to fall and fires broke out. I wanted to go back to town square and see if somehow, some way Akil and Michael survived, but my body would not move. My feet felt like they had been cemented to the ground as if a great force was holding me back. Diala was watching my every move, mimicking me. We sat there until sun down, watching people leave the village. Neighbors putting out fires and calling out for loved ones.
I began to hear footsteps approach. Instead of running, I just sat there letting whatever fate the higher powers had for me do their job. A hand began to push the crops aside; it was Michael. He looked at me, emotionless, and then he moved out of the way. It was Akil. I didn’t know how and I didn’t care. I had found my brother. I had so many questions, but the only thing I could do was hug him.
Three weeks passed before Michael was able to get us out of Saudi Arabia. Akil became a great help to the US military. He had overheard numerous plans to assassinate people and potential terrorist attacks. Thanks to Michael and Akil’s push to stay alive, hundreds have been saved. A few months passed before my story became known. I did not know I had a story but people all around the world seem to want to know everything about me and Diala. We have become a symbol for the people of the Middle East. For the people struggling to get out and start over. We have become a symbol for those fighting to stay alive. I am now a speaker who travels the world with Diala giving our perspective on living in the Middle East. This story not to scare you or to make you never want to go anywhere other than your country. I am now a speaker bringing awareness to the cause of terrorism and that not everyone living in the Middle East is a terrorist. Many ask about whatever happened to Michael; he is still a Navy Seal in the Navy and we are currently in a relationship. We don’t talk much about what happened in the Middle East as we both have painful memories there.
Michael lost his best friend, George the day of the explosions. After Diala and I left ,George came to help Michael with the bomb. Once they had the bomb off Akil, Michael and Akil began walking towards the fields. Michael was the man that morning who frightened us, and he figured that is where we would be. As they were about three-hundred yards out an explosion happened. George had stepped on a landmine. Michael didn’t receive word of George’s falling until a day after. But that is all the past, we all live in America now safe. Free to walk a mile to get a gallon of milk without worrying about stepping on a landmine or being taken or shot. We no longer live in fear, hiding. We are free.