WORTHY

2

She opens her cupboard and pulls out her clothes.

She's allowed only a few clothes. She takes two shirts, three trousers, a sweater and a jacket.

Will that be enough?

No, of course not.

She sighs, folds a headscarf and places it on top of her clothes.

She winces when she realises that this is real. She is leaving everything behind, except for one bag full of worldy goods.

Her house, her family, her life. She has lost everything.

She sighs again and takes a pen and an empty notebook out of a drawer. She's already sold this furniture, the buyers will pick it up after she leaves.

She looks at the posters on the wall. She looks at her jewelery. There are some really valuable things here but she takes two necklaces and a ring only.

Her mother's ring fits her pale finger perfectly.

She zips up the bag after placing some other stuff in there. It doesn't weigh much.

That's a good sign.

How can having a few kilograms of worldy goods be a good sign?

She doesn't know.

No one does.

She pulls on the necklace and the locket bearing the name of her God gleams at her neck. 

She touches the cold metal and smiles. Her finger traces the Arabic letters.

She sighs again and picks her bag up. She looks at herself in the mirror again and adjusts the scarf.

She looks so much like her mother.

Her mother, now ash and dust. The result of being burnt alive. She was volunteering at the hospital at that time, and her brother was there too.

And then, the bombs came.

The hospital burnt. Everyone heard the screams and everyone cried.

She winces at the thought. It's a daily habit now, wincing and shivering.

She looks at the books on her shelf and the Holy Book on top.

"I'm sorry." She says. "But I have to leave you here."

The books don't respond, not that she expected them to. Or did she?

She looks at the pictures on the wall. She'll have to leave the memories behind. She pulls a family photo out of its frame and puts it in her wallet.

She's got money, yes. But money isn't going to save her life.

She remembers how the man from the office came to take her passport.

"Where will I be going?" She asked.

"Greece." He looked at her grim expression and frowned. "Now now, don't be sad! You're going to a European country. It's beautiful, developed. There's no war there!"

"Yes but...is it home?" She saw his expression and added. "Not that I'm not incredibly grateful for them to let me legally go there but.. I just don't want to leave my home."

"You'll get to live there." The man reminded her. "You're being reborn."

Is rebirth what she wants? Is it?

She doesn't know.