Episode 34 : Capricious

Zawaq fell to the ground. Two bullets had pierced through his skull. Several more had struck his abdomen. He hadn't anticipated the bullets penetrating his body—something outside of his expectations and norm.

Zawaq's eyes widened. Three Israeli soldiers fired at the cabin where Uncle Ibrahim was sheltering inside. The gunfire continued relentlessly until their rifles ran out of bullets.

In his weakened state, Zawaq could only watch. He tried to move his fingers, but they refused to respond. He attempted to rise, but only his consciousness remained intact—his ability to move was gone.

It was likely that the two bullets affecting his brain disrupted his motor functions. The Israeli soldiers left without taking responsibility for their violent actions.

Zawaq lost consciousness, his vision fading into darkness. Blood flowed from his face due to the headshots, as well as from his body, which had lost a significant amount of blood.

Three days later, Zawaq stirred awake but collapsed when he tried to stand. His arms and legs trembled uncontrollably. Mustering the strength he had left, he dragged himself toward Uncle Ibrahim's cabin.

It felt like hours as he crawled, burying his fingers into the dirt to pull himself forward. Eventually, he reached the cabin and pounded on the wooden door with enough force to break it while still lying on the ground.

Zawaq crawled inside weakly and found Uncle Ibrahim's lifeless body. Uncle Ibrahim appeared cold and motionless. Zawaq hoisted himself onto the old man's body, feeling his neck for a pulse—there was none. The body was cold and stiff.

Zawaq examined Uncle Ibrahim's body and the dried blood staining the floor where he lay. Tears streamed from Zawaq's eyes. He dragged himself to the side and leaned his back against the wooden wall of the cabin.

He tore his shirt to check the bullet wounds inflicted by the Israeli soldiers three days earlier. Zawaq let out a cry of pain. He clutched his face and head, feeling something move within his skull. Then he examined his body and saw bullets slowly emerging from his abdomen, with the wounds gradually healing.

His body felt utterly drained. Pain and dizziness overwhelmed him. He shut his eyes tightly, and once again, darkness consumed him, guided by empathy.

Several days passed, and Zawaq awoke from a long sleep. He grasped his face, feeling an excruciating pain. Something pushed its way out of his head and forehead—two cold, wet metal bullets dropped into his palm. Zawaq inspected them.

He attempted to stand and found his body stronger than in the preceding days. Zawaq walked toward the partially destroyed door. He turned back one last time to look at Uncle Ibrahim's lifeless body before leaving the cabin.

Step by step, he made his way to the nearest town, his body swaying unsteadily.

When Zawaq arrived in town, he surveyed the area. Corpses of children and adults littered the streets. Blood painted the roads in grotesque patterns. The entire town was in ruins, with some shop buildings burned to the ground.

Zawaq walked past the scattered bodies. His steps halted at a well. Feeling parched, he lowered a bucket tied to a rope into the well. Peering inside, he saw that half of the well was filled with the bodies of children. The bucket landed on one of the corpses. Zawaq turned away from the horrific sight and vomited by the side of the well.

He moved on to another well, this one free of bodies, and drew clean water. Zawaq submerged his head into the bucket, drinking the cold, fresh water. He drank until his thirst was quenched.

Continuing his journey, Zawaq reached the town center. Not a single living soul remained. A group of Israeli soldiers played soccer with the severed head of an old man.

Zawaq froze, stunned by the inhuman scene. One of the soldiers noticed him and raised his rifle, firing at him. Zawaq tried to rush forward to attack, but his steps faltered, and he fell face-first to the ground.

"I know you! You were supposed to be dead! I shot you in the head and face!" the soldier snarled.

Lying on the ground, Zawaq lifted his head to glare at the soldier. The rifle barrel was aimed directly at him. Five shots were fired into his face, and everything went dark.

How long Zawaq was unconscious, he didn't know. When he finally woke, he found himself on a white bed in an entirely white room. A nurse entered and noticed he was regaining consciousness.

"Sir? You're awake?" the nurse asked.

"Where am I?" Zawaq asked.

Not a single memory remained in his mind, as if he were a newborn.

"Who am I?" Zawaq asked.

Shortly after, a doctor examined Zawaq's eyes, breathing, and heartbeat with a stethoscope. The doctor handed him a pen. Zawaq took the document and wrote something on the paper.

Who am I?

"Your son has amnesia, likely due to severe brain trauma from a road accident," the doctor explained to Zawaq's parents, who were seated beside him.

"Thank God our son is safe," his father said.

Zawaq turned his gaze from the doctor to the faces of his parents.

"Do you remember us, son?" his mother asked.

"I remember," Zawaq replied.

"This means Zawaq can resume normal activities. He can be discharged in three days if there are no side effects," the doctor told his parents.

"I can't remember what happened at work," Zawaq said to the doctor.