Finally, after nearly 6, long hours, the bus stopped. I assumed it was still morning, but there was no way to tell, in this dark, black, thickly tinted bus. I had slept throughout most of the journey. I woke up dazed and confused, till I remembered what was happening and once again fear and anxiety enveloped me. I looked around to see where the rest of my family was, and to my great relief, everyone was safe and sound!
When we got out, the sun shone upon us, giving me a feeling of hope; everything was going to be alright. I scanned the surroundings; we were in a small, village-like place in the outskirts of UAE. It had been a victim of the war and was left burnt and abandoned. The village must have been a beautiful, developing place. There was a stream flowing past most of the tiny houses showing a great water system. There must have been a great deal of vegetation as dead plants surrounded the whole village. What a shame!
This was going to be our new home (or our torture chamber but I’d rather look on the bright-side). No one knew for how long. Maybe days, maybe months, maybe till we survive!
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