The Request [Under Construction]

7. Shame. On. You. Israel.

7. Shame. On. You. Israel.

Ahmad replaced the broken mug in front of me with another one, this time filled with hot water and sugar.

My heart was going ten to the dozen, my hands clammy and my eyes leaking. Amna had squished herself beside me and engulfed me in a hug.

"W-what the b-bloody hell was that?" I asked.

"A bomb. But not a close one. It is a frequent happening here," Ahmad explained, sitting down opposite me.

"But that one was nearby," Amna said, loosening her hold on me and peering towards the window. She then murmured as an afterthought, "I wonder where Zayn is."

The words had barely left her mouth when there was a bang and loud footsteps.

A tall man, though he was slightly shorter than Ahmad was, walked in. He had hazel eyes, brown hair that was in a buzz cut, and he was rugged and tan. Surprisingly, his clothes weren't tattered, just merely dishevelled. As though he'd hurriedly put them on.

Amna let out a shriek and hurriedly got up to engulf him in a hug.

"Zayn," Ahmad sighed in relief, standing up and walking towards the man.

"Where have you been?" Amna asked, finally letting go of him.

He shrugged. "Around."

Ahmad gave him a brief hug and then introduced me. "This is Julie, a friend of Amna's."

Zayn raised his eyebrows and turned to look at me. A strange look crossed his face before he shook his head slightly and gave me a smile. "Nice to meet you. It is not often we receive guests."

"Nice to meet you too," I replied with a smile, holding my hand out for him to shake.

He grasped it briefly before letting go.

"What brings you to Gaza?" he asked.

"Well," I started but Ahmad caught my eye and shook his head slightly. I frowned at him. What was he saying no for?

Before I could continue, Ahmad said, "She's just a tourist. Amna picked her up in her taxi this morning, and you know how she is," he let out a small laugh before continuing, "she won't even let anyone go somewhere without bringing them home first."

Zayn nodded. "How long are you here for?"

"Uh, a few weeks, I suppose."

Another nod.

"Will you be staying with Amna?"

"Oh, no. I'm booked at the hotel up the road," I said.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Ahmad let out another laugh. "Let her breathe, Zayn! Go and clean up, your hands are so dirty."

Zayn rolled his eyes before glancing at his hands and walking out.

I glanced questioningly at Ahmad. "What was that about?"

He just shook his head and turned back around to the stove, a worried line creasing his forehead.

Amna walked over to him and said a few words in Arabic. Ahmad replied solemnly, rubbed his forehead fervently and sighed heavily. Amna gave his shoulder a brief pat before walking to me.

"Come on. I will give you a tour of my neighbourhood," she said with a smile.

"Great," I replied. "Let me just get my camera."