The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War Read Online Free PDF Page B

marketplace with a vibrant look. I walk towards the brightest stand with dragon fruits, passion fruits, mangos, kiwis and starfruits on display in the shape of a huge smile. My mind plays around with the colours and I sketch an image in my head of the man on the side of the road made of fruit juices bursting out of him.
    â€˜Adam, I was looking all around for you, where did you wander off to?’
    â€˜Sorry, I was looking at these fruits.’
    â€˜Okay Habibi, just stay by me. I picked strawberries, a pineapple and some grapes for you here.’ She points at her basket filled with all my favourites.
    â€˜Thank you Yasmine!’ I smile at her.
    â€˜Come on, let’s look for some vegetables to cook for today.’
    I walk behind Yasmine to the vegetable stand on the far corner of the market. Sitting on the corner of the pavement a father is recording a video of his daughter singing the national anthem in a loud voice. They both look orange. Before I get to look back at Yasmine I hear a deafening sound and in a second all the fruits jump at me and the stalls break to the ground. I turn frantically looking for Yasmine and see the video camera by my feet and the father and daughter nowhere in sight. I feel Yasmine grab me and we run. She drops the basket and the fruits tumble down to the ground and burst into a rainbow. Yasmine runs faster and I try to keep up with her. Another bomb goes off but it sounds further away. Screams surround us like a suffocating bubble and my mind zones out to one of my paintings on my wall with a family running away from a bomb. Something suddenly falls out from under Yasmine’s shirt and she stops to pick it up.
    A loud siren goes off in my mind when I see the gun. Yasmine doesn’t pause to look up at me. She picks up the gun and continues running. My heart sings the dreary national anthem of our country, and every beat gets heavier. There’s a war, there’s a war, there’s a war. I didn’t believe Yasmine, I didn’t believe the news, now I am in the middle of the war and I want to run away.
    â€˜5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1.’
    â€˜Adam! Keep running!’
    â€˜5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1, 5-3-2-1.’ Yasmine pulls me harder and every nerve in my body freezes. I stop in my spot and she tries pulling me harder but she can’t.
    â€˜Adam? Adam look at me! What’s wrong? We have to run, we could get hurt!’
    Yasmine’s voice soothes my nerves and I run really fast to show her that I can run as fast as a cheetah. I can hear Yasmine’s breath behind me and I run even faster.
    *
    We run into the house and lock the door tight behind us. Yasmine turns around to me and looks me up and down to see if I am okay. She has a scratch from her lips up to her ear. I can’t see myself so I don’t know how I look.
    â€˜Yasmine, you’re hurt.’
    â€˜As long as you’re okay then I am.’
    She walks into the sitting room and tries to put the light on but the electricity is out again. Everything is getting so bad. Nothing is working and the war has started. I start to fidget. I hate this, why is there a war? What did my country do to have a war?
    I go to my room and look at the painting on my wall that I remembered when the bomb went off. The picture has a woman running while holding a young boy’s hand.
    The colours are like a fruit cart has exploded all over it and blood has come out of the fruits. The painting resembles what happened in a strange way. I look at the other paintings on my wall and pray to God that none of those happen as well. My room is filled with war paintings that now scare me. I bring out my painting kit and start to sketch the girl and her father right away. I remember their faces clearly like I have known them my whole life. The father’s eyes looked like they were about to close before the bomb