To say that I was extremely shocked would be the understatement of the millennium.

"You...you killed..." I stammered, at a loss for words. "You killed your brother."

"Yes, I did." Ahsan, scowling when I had mentioned the last word, admitted the obvious and stared at me. "You know, he's still on top of you."

My mind instantly kept up with reality and I had just remembered that Faizan's blood was gushing down on my upper body like a recently thawed waterfall. I struggled to heave his lifeless, but extremely heavy, body off of me when Ahsan grabbed Faizan by the back of his collar and tossed his brother aside like a sack of potatoes. While he was doing that, I hastily pulled down the end of my abaya, which Faizan had dragged up when he was alive just a mere few seconds ago.

"I can't believe this," I whispered, more to myself, as my eyes took in every inch of the dead body.

"Are you okay?" Ahsan was eyeing me carefully the entire time. "Did he hurt you?"

Faizan is actually dead! No more children will have to be brutally murdered at his hands. No more women will be raped at his command. No more people will be stripped of all of their belongings and dragged away from their homes. No more-

"Hayat?" Ahsan's voice snapped me out of my reverie.

"Huh?"

"I asked if he had hurt you," Ahsan repeatedly patiently.

"No, he didn't." And he won't try to do so to anyone ever again! Retrieving Saad's blanket from the floor, I took a clean corner to wipe away the blood and hot sweat that grazed my neck. "I'm...I'm fine. Just...just a bit shaky knowing that he's actually dead. And the fact that you killed him."

He was taken aback. "I'm pretty sure you wanted him dead all this time, and now that he actually is, you suddenly have a problem with it!"

"But, he's your-"

"He stopped playing the role of a brother a long time ago, Hayat. I think you're aware of that now." Ahsan paused and ran his palm over the beads of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. "I've was thinking of doing this for a while, but today, he just paved the way to his own death. He had it coming."

Still, Faizan was actually, really, truly dead!

I chewed the inside of my cheek until it hurt, unsure of how to respond. My heart rate was steadily increasing with each breath.

"Do you trust me?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you trust me enough to run away with me?"

I gave him my full attention, especially since an escape had not crossed my mind ever since Faizan had caught Tala and I in the act. "Run...run away to where?"

"Turkey," he answered promptly. "Somewhere, anywhere as long as it's not here."

"Now?"

"Yes. We don't have much time. The sun hasn't even come out yet and we need to leave before it does or else the rest of Al-Tho'baan will be after us. I was trying to arrange a jeep earlier and that's when I heard you scream."

"Oh..."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you trust me enough to want to come with me?" He kept his expression guarded. "If you want, I can drop you off at the Turkish embassy and you can tell them your story. Since you were on the news, they can easily identify you. Then you can go back home."

"Is there another option?" I asked faintly.

"Yes," he said slowly. Ahsan cocked his head to the side, probably wondering why I would even ask for an alternative. "You can come with me wherever I go. It'll just be the two of us. Which do you prefer?"

I was torn. On one hand, a part of me wanted nothing more than to be within the comforts of my parents, brothers and friends. Then again, how would Ahsan feel if I did that? He stayed by me throughout the worst time of my life, cautiously making sure I would stay alive. At any rate, I was indebted to him. I owed him my life.

"I'll take you to the embassy. You need to go home." Ahsan noticed my hesitation and made a decision on his own. He was about to turn on his heels when I suddenly grabbed his arm.

"I don't know what I want," I whispered, helplessly.

He patted my hand that was on his arm and then peeled it away. "You want to go home, Hayat, just like you have always wanted."

"I want both."

"You can't have both. It doesn't work that way," Ahsan insisted, shaking his head. "Besides, now that I think about it, having you come with me would be the most selfish thing I could ever do to you - even more selfish than wanting to keep you alive."

"H-how so?" I knew that I needed to hear this, yet I did not want to.

"I won't be able to provide for you properly. How will we live? And even if that somehow works out, it'll only be a matter of time when somebody might recognize my face and report me to authorities. Then you would have to answer them when they ask you why you have been living with a terrorist. No matter what, they would label you as one of us. It would be a dead end for us both and I do not want to risk it."

He was right.

But I wished he was not.

"If you take me to the embassy, then what about you?" I asked him, dreading the answer. "Where will you go? What will you do?"

"Don't worry about me," Ahsan tried to reassure me. "My only focus right now is to safely take you to the embassy, which is a risky task in itself. Nothing else matters. And once you get home, I want you to convince yourself that everything that had happened prior to your arrival in the States was just one big nightmare. Got it?"

"Was that a joke?" I asked bluntly.

He frowned. "I was being serious."

Suddenly, the idea of an escape did not appeal to me. On the contrary, it made me sad. All this time, I had Ahsan by my side as some sort of strength, guidance, and even comic relief. As much as I could briefly try, it was difficult to rewind my mind to how life was like before I came here and I struggled to imagine a life where Ahsan wouldn't be near. "I don't want to leave you."

He ran a hand down his sleepless face and exhaled deeply, ignoring my question. "You will be neither happy nor safe with me."

"But what if things do work out? What if-"

"And what about your parents?" Ahsan raised his tone slightly. "Your parents, the two people who have raised you thus far? Even though you both have had your fair share of disagreements, it is blatantly obvious that they care about you and the other way around. They were on national television, crying and praying for your return. Are you just going to allow them to believe that their daughter is dead? Are you just going to throw aside their feelings and hopes - all for a random man you met in the middle of a desert, a terrorist at that!"

When he searched my face for a hint of a response - which would not happen as I was speechless - he spoke again, softly this time. "Hayat, parents are a gift. We take them for granted a lot and we find it so easy to dislike them whenever they get mad at us. We look at it as betrayal because we believe that they should be supportive of whatever decision we make. But, they are people too. They have their own feelings and dreams. When they insisted you to be a doctor, did you ever look at it as they wanted you to be financially secure? You heard them on the interview, they know you're soft-hearted. People like you can be easily cheated and they didn't want that happening to you. But that's all over now. Don't you think it's time to set those differences aside and forgive them for whatever distress they've given you? You found it in your heart to forgive me, when I definitely did not deserve it. Isn't it time you do the same for them? Isn't it time to go back home?"

I answered his question with one of my own. "Are you...are you going to let me go, just like that?"

"Hayat, please don't make this any more difficult for me than it already is." He swallowed and gazed at the floor. "Your safety and well-being is my priority and I will not be able to guarantee either if you stay with me. It's not practical. During all this time, you could at least say that Faizan has put you in danger. Now that he's gone, anything bad happening to you will be completely under my watch and I will never forgive myself if you're put in danger again. Do you understand?"

Closing my eyes briefly, I nodded meekly and unwillingly.

"Good. Now let's go." Ahsan straightened his shoulders and grabbed my hand. He pulled me to follow him but I stayed in my tracks. "What now?"

"Uhm..."

"Well?" He asked impatiently. "Are you waiting for a farewell party or something?"

"No," I said sharply, narrowing my eyes and then regaining composure. "What about the others?"

Ahsan stared at me blankly. "What others?"

"You know, the other people who have been captured, the civilians up in the sanctuary?"

"...What about them?"

I rolled my eyes with impatience. "You don't really think I'm just going to run off and leave everyone else here, do you!"

"Hayat. We. Don't. Have. Time. To. Argue. About. This."

"They all deserve to go home too! If not that, at least drop them off at the refugee camps on the border where they'll be safer!"

"The jeep is not meant to hold over fifty people," he informed me after clenching his jaw.

"Okay then, how many people do you think it can hold?"

Ahsan pinched the bridge of his nose, silently praying for God to grant him all the patience in the world. "A maximum of ten, and that's only if they all squeeze themselves in the back."

I felt guilty knowing that only ten others would be able to taste freedom while the others had to continue to suffer here. But surely, saving ten lives is better than none at all. "Ten it is, then."

Ahsan rolled his eyes. "I'll meet you outside the gate. Move swiftly, but carefully. I swear to God if you get caught-"

Grabbing the folds of my abaya, I sped up the stairwell before he could finish his sentence. On my way up, I had faintly heard, "Don't be scared if you see Murt-," but by that time, I was already out of earshot.

If anything, I had to save somebody from here. I was a horrible protector to Saad and the mere thought of his tiny corpse sent shivers throughout all of my nerves. I had to help someone. I screwed up once, and I wouldn't ever be able to forgive myself if I screwed up again.

"Psst, Tala, get up!" I whispered hoarsely to her sleepy body that was surrounded by many other people who were deep in slumber in the sanctuary. Like before, it was still difficult to differentiate who was dead and who was hanging on a thread for life. The sanctuary was in a worse state than I had observed upon my initial arrival and a terrible stench wafted in the early hours of the morning. My whispers morphed into slight echoes. Luckily, there wasn't a militant in sight. "Tala!"

"Hm?" She responded groggily after I knelt down and shook her by the shoulder. "Hayat, what are you doing here?"

"Shh, we don't have much time. We have a plan to escape. We can take you to a refugee camp on the border. Hurry and follow me!" I prepared myself to stand up, but Tala had grabbed my forearm, dragging me back down again.

Tala propped herself upright with her palms. "Who are we?"

"Ahsan and I," I told her. "Come on, we have to go!"

"Seriously?" Unimpressed, she gave me a blank look. "What did I tell you about-"

"He is trustworthy," I said firmly. "It was his idea of running away from here and he told me that he'll take me to the Turkish embassy. He hates it here and," I paused, wondering if it was okay to spill the news in order for her to believe me, and Ahsan, completely, "and, he just killed Faizan in the dungeon!"

"He did what?" Tala gaped at me with her jaw practically on the floor. "If this is some sort of trap so that he can relocate us elsewhere..."

"Why would he kill Faizan then?" I retorted. "And why would he relocate us to rot somewhere else when we can do that right here?"

Tala bit her lip, still unsure.

"Tala, please, come on!" I pleaded, tugging her sleeve. "If anything bad does happen, we'll be in it together. Please, just trust me!"

"Okay," she said, clearing her throat and getting up. "Let's go."

"You're not going anywhere," declared a cold voice. Someone had grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around, bringing me to my feet. A militant.

However, oddly enough, it seemed as though the militant was more surprised to see me than the other way around.

He promptly let go of my shoulder and retreated a few steps. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

Tala and I exchanged looks.

Just then, footsteps broke the serenity of the sanctuary and Ahsan's tall frame came into full view. "Hayat, I told you to hur- Oh, Murtaza," he acknowledged the militant. Ahsan stared at Murtaza for a few seconds, inaudibly communicating with him until he faced me, eyeing Tala briefly. "Only one person?"

"No, I was going to bring more. Just wait!"

"For the love of God, hurry," Ahsan demanded warningly. He looked beyond me and I turned around to come face-to-face with Father Mikhail, the priest who had been here from the start.

"Father!" I exclaimed, running towards him. "Father, come with us. We're going to run away from here. Gather the people and-"

"Wait," Murtaza interjected. "What is going on here?"

"Faizan is dead and we're leaving this hell," Ahsan answered him firmly.

Murtaza's jaw fell to the planet's core. "Faizan is what?"

"Dead," Ahsan repeated. "But the others are not. We need to leave before the sun rises or else the others will catch onto us. Will you come also?"

Murtaza looked at Ahsan as though he had multiple heads. "I...I don't know."

"All this time, all of you wanted to run from here the moment you had a chance." Ahsan threw his arms up exasperatedly. "And now suddenly, none of you are sure if you really want to leave." He shot me a quick glare.

While Ahsan tried to calmly explain the situation to Murtaza, with Tala paying close attention, I turned back to the priest. "Father, I'd really wish for you to come with us. We're planning on making a stop to the refugee camps that are on the border of Syria and Turkey. Al-Tho'baan has no power there so it'd be much safer. Please, do come with us and bring along whoever would like to join us."

Ahsan cleared his throat loud enough for me to hear. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at him.

"Well, we only have room for about ten people though," I admitted to Father Mikhail once I had figured out why Ahsan had made noise.

Small wrinkles formed on the priest's face as he gave me a smile and shook his head. "It is very thoughtful of you, child, but I cannot leave my people, my home. We may come from different backgrounds, but we all have the same Creator. It would be pointless in calling myself a priest if I do not help my fellow brothers and sisters at their greatest time of need - even if we do not make it out alive. And so, I must stay."

My face fell. Father Mikhail was so nice and caring, he certainly did not deserve to be tangled up in this mess solely because he was Christian.

"However," he continued. "I do not like the idea of families splitting up, so I will gather some orphaned children who I pray will benefit from the journey." Father Mikhail promptly turned on his heels and woke up some of the children so as not to waste any more time. Once the half-asleep children had made their way towards us, the priest stood in front of Ahsan and I.

"Go in peace." Father Mikhail pulled out the wooden cross that hung around his neck - but had been tucked under his robe - and clutched it. "Be careful, especially you," he addressed Ahsan directly, his eyes boring into that of the latter as though the priest had a vague premonition. Ahsan maintained eye contact until even he felt uneasy and looked away. "May God be with you."

"T-thank you," Ahsan mumbled somberly to the priest. Tearing his gaze from all who would remain in the church campus, Ahsan motioned over to the entrance. "Let's go."

Tala and I waved to the priest as we gathered the children and began walking towards the open air jeep like a pack. Tala edged herself all the way in the rear of the jeep, just behind the driver and passenger seats, and helped situate the children inside as Ahsan and I heaved them up.

"Hayat."

I set a little girl inside. "Yes?"

"Listen to me carefully," he said, lifting a boy from under the arms. "This journey may be dangerous and we may not even reach our destination. Once we're out of Aleppo, we'll be completely out of Al-Tho'baan territory, but that doesn't mean a rebel group won't catch us. If by any chance we get caught, I want you to tell them everything: who captured you, what happened to you, who you really are, where you're from - all of that."

"But-"

"If not, they'll assume you're also a militant and that you are helping to kidnap these kids. Do you understand me?"

"Ahsan, I-"

"Do I make myself clear, Hayat?" He set down the last child into the front passenger side of the jeep and glanced at me sternly. I nodded meekly. He sighed. "What have I told you about head motions? You bicker with me quite loudly any other time and suddenly, you've gone quiet."

"Yes, you've made yourself clear," I snapped, glaring at him.

"Glad to hear it." Ahsan cocked his head over to the driver's seat, where somebody had already occupied. It was Murtaza. "Ah, you'll be joining us then?"

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing," Murtaza muttered as he reached for the key.

Just as I was about to get into the back of the open air jeep, I paused to look back at the church premises and imagined what it had once looked like. As bizarre as it seemed, a part of me would be left here in Aleppo, Syria. In a matter of time, I would lose Tala and Ahsan, just like I had lost Saad-

Saad!

Furiously shutting the back door, I raced through the inner courtyard.

"Hayat, where are you going!" Ahsan yelled from a distance away.

I struggled to scream over my shoulder while my abaya swished around me. "Saad's blanket! I need to get Saad's blanket!"

"Get back here right now!"

But, obedience was not something I was very good at.

Saad's blanket was the only remnant I had left of him. He adored that blanket, he would not sleep well without it. There were still creases on it from his various sleeping positions, perhaps some dried drool and a few light hair strands as well.

Even his blood was on it.

Either way, no matter if it still had dried drool or blood stains, I wanted it. I wanted to preserve the very last piece of memory I had of my baby.

And so, I sped even faster down the dungeon stairwell.

Not stopping to catch my breath as I had reached the door to the room, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw Faizan lying on the ground. I had almost forgotten that he was dead. Ripping my gaze away from him, I picked up the blanket from the floor and sped back up the stairs to get back to the jeep.

But then, a hand came from behind and was clasped against my mouth. Whoever it was, furiously muttered away in Arabic. In the grip of silent panic, knowing very well that the individual was not either Ahsan nor Murtaza, my brain slushed around in my head.

I was in big trouble.

Clutching the blanket firmly in my hands, I tried to bite into the militant's bare palm, but he had sealed my mouth so tightly that my teeth were no match. Tears lined my eyes and I genuinely thought I was going to die.

Until Ahsan ran over towards us and slammed his foot into the man's back, causing me to fly into the nearest wall. The covered militant had fallen to the ground, giving Ahsan the perfect opportunity to stomp on the man's crotch before kicking him into the closest room and pulling out the key to it. The man's screams were muffled from inside and Ahsan grabbed my wrist. He looked as though he was about to scold me for running off in the first place, but then he took notice of the tears splashing down my cheeks and must have thought better of it since his face had softened. Still gripping my wrist, Ahsan raced out of the building and out of the courtyard, skidding in front of the jeep and motioning for me to go inside.

"Ahsan!" I screeched, frantically shaking him by his upper arm when I had realized something. Tala and the other children watched me with wide eyes. "The blanket! I dropped the blanket!"

He secured the lock of the rear door of the open air jeep before turning to me sadly. "It's gone, Hayat. I'm sorry."

"That was all I had left of him, Ahsan." My vision became cloudy and Ahsan's frame rippled before me due to my teary sight. "That was all I had..."

I was a horrible person and had failed so much as a human. I was not even able to save Saad's blanket as a keepsake. I couldn't even do that.

"Murtaza, drive quickly but cautiously. One of the men was awake when I went inside."

The latter inserted the key into the ignition. "What happened then?"

"I kicked him where the sun doesn't shine and locked him up in a room."

Murtaza peeked into the rear-view mirror and exchanged a smirk with his friend. "Nice."

Ahsan smirked back, but his face softened when he turned back to me. "I'm sorry about the blanket." He wrapped an arm around me, holding me closely, and I cried freely into his chest, shamelessly soaking his shirt with tears and snot.

The remainder of the drive was quite somber, nobody had really made an effort in making conversation. Tala had sung a lullaby for the children to go back to sleep and in turn, she went into a slight slumber herself. Eventually, any evidence that I had cried was obvious through my tear-stained face. I leaned my head on Ahsan's shoulder and almost smiled remembering that the last time I had done this on our way to the Palmyra ruins, he had nearly bit my head off for falling asleep on his shoulder.

But now, it was okay.

Some time later, perhaps it had been a few hours, Murtaza whispered a very blatant, "Oh shit."

Ahsan's stubbled cheek grazed the top of my head as he turned towards his friend. He froze, giving my hand a tight squeeze, and lifted his should lightly so that I would look up at him. He nodded towards the front of the vehicle and my whole body had stilled as well.

Dawn had sent glowing rays over the land, bestowing a golden path from the horizon. Even with the blinding brightness, it was hard to miss the gray-colored tank coming towards us with an American flag perched on top.