If I was that child...

Dear World,
Dear Killer,

Hope my postmortem letter finds you well along with your family, children, and beloved ones.

    My name is Ahmad, or Maryam, or Aylan, or Morcos,  or Aya, or Yasmina... you can give me any name now, since I left this world. I am that kid you raped, tortured, gassed, drowned, killed.

    I did not choose to come to this world. I was just "born". I quickly noticed that I was protected and loved by people around me. I wasn't alone, all kids around me were cherished and protected. I loved being here.

    Until the day you decided I wasn't important. The day you decided to kill me.
I keep telling myself you were surely fighting for a good cause. No one starts killing just for the pleasure of it. You kill because you are defending your values...
See, this is something that surpasses my understanding. How can you kill me to justify your right? How can you kill me for power and not blink?

Gassed twins-Khan Sheykhun-Syria, in daddy's arms

    I was asleep when you gassed me. I woke up choking. It was so hard to inhale or exhale. Everything became blurry, I was shivering, convulsing, vomiting, peeing. It took long minutes before I was relieved.
When I stopped fighting to breathe and live...
Can you try to hold your breath for me? try it until it suffocates you, until you feel you can't bear it anymore. My suffering started after that ugly feeling you're experiencing... So now you can imagine how I felt...

The youngest victim of deadly Palm Sunday in Egypt

    I was celebrating Palm Sunday when you shredded my tiny body into pieces. I was wearing my new clothes and carrying my candle. A long awaited celebration. I saw you walking the isle heading towards me. I smiled, but you did not return the smile. You had empty eyes and a closed face. I didn't have enough time to try smiling again... You disappeared in a big ball of fire taking me with you...
    I didn't know hatred and death had a human face. I was relieved so fast I forgot I had no body anymore...



    I was in the shelter, with no water, no electricity, no food, no play. But alive with my parents and family. Every time I tried to sneak out to play I was pulled back either by my mom, or by the bombing sounds. But it was okay, I trusted grown ups around me to protect me. Until the day I suddenly swallowed dust. It was all white concrete around me, and my body fell under something heavy. It took long minutes of unbearable pain, of desperate seeking for breath before I was relieved.
    Try to put a wall on your chest and face for a minute, sprinkle your face with dust...
Imagine how it feels... just try to imagine. Now you can have a glimpse of what I went through.

Suicide bombers children with their father-Damascus

   I was just playing with my sister when you told us we must die to help your cause. We trusted you as our father, so we let you wrap us with a bomb and give us instructions to go to the police station pretending we lost our parents. We both hugged you and mom and went. But once there we wanted to pee. You pressed the button then... We were everywhere on the toilet walls... or were no more... But I still don't understand why you let us go, daddy.

Aylan Kurdi alive

    I was on a makeshift boat on my mother's lap. Daddy told me we were going to live in a beautiful land, where I would never be afraid anymore. Where I would go to a beautiful school. The water was deep, cold and scary. Suddenly I slipped from their hands, and fell like everybody in the cold water. I didn't know what to do. I saw my father try to grab me, but I slipped. I started swallowing salty water. Even coughing was impossible. I fought as much as I could, but I couldn't breathe.
    All I wanted was to breathe! I could see the sky above become blurry and disappear...
 It took long minutes of unbearable pain before I was relieved.

    I thought my death would make you stop. Apologize. Empathize.

Aylan asleep

I thought by seeing my suffering you would feel such a pain that you'd say: wow stop stop stop! this is madness.  We have to find   another way.
 I thought by seeing my death live on your screen you'd be so  moved, you'd say: sorry.

You were supposed to protect me.
You were supposed to spare my life.
You were supposed to think of me when fighting for your reasons.
You were supposed to wake up from the madness when watching me die.
You were supposed to save me.

    What if I was your child? Would you kill me?
But I am your child. I am in my humanity. How could you kill your child like you did to me and not even blink? Not even be sorry? Not even stop!?

Was I supposed to grow up and become like you? Merciless? Heartless? Hateful? Angry?
Was I supposed to grow up believing that killing innocents is just "collateral damage" in wars?
Was I supposed to grow up killing in the name of a so-called value? What value is worth killing?
Was I supposed to grow up to become YOU?
 

    I didn't choose to live. I didn't choose to die too.  I just wasn't ready to die yet.
I wanted to live, to hug my mother, to play. I wanted to dream.
You stole everything from me. You watched me die and you moved on.

Who are you going to kill tomorrow World? Who is next on your death penalty list?
Every time you killed me I thought my death will be your wake-up call...
And every time you failed my expectations...

    I have nothing to say to you anymore. And I don't expect you to be moved by words, when broken lives won't even reach your heart.

But,
I wish you mindfulness.
I wish you love.
I wish you inner peace.
I wish you innocence.
...Without me...

                                                                                           Not yours truly anymore,
                                                                                           Every killed child