Episode 33 : Unsettled

"Uncle Ibrahim, where are we heading?" Zawaq asked Uncle Ibrahim.

"We have arrived," Uncle Ibrahim replied.

At 9 a.m., Zawaq and Uncle Ibrahim arrived at a refugee camp bustling with children and teenagers. Several adults were managing daily activities.

Uncle Ibrahim started unloading supplies and placed them on a table with others' items. They began preparing breakfast while serving biscuits and bread to the children and teenagers.

Zawaq joined in cooking, guided by Uncle Ibrahim. After finishing, the children and teenagers swarmed around the cooking area with metal plates in hand.

Zawaq distributed food to them. Once everyone was served, the adults prepared their own meals.

Some children approached the exhausted Zawaq. They stared at him, with a few touching his hair and face.

Uncle Ibrahim smiled, watching the children interact with Zawaq. Zawaq humored their chatter and joked with them.

"Where are you from?" asked an adult who was eating and chatting with others.

"He's my worker. He manages my farm and sells the produce," Uncle Ibrahim replied on Zawaq's behalf.

Zawaq remained silent throughout the conversation, afraid they might discover his true identity as someone from the illegal state of Israhell.

He wandered around the refugee camp. Suddenly, several Israhell soldiers appeared. Zawaq quickly walked towards them as they approached the camp.

"Is there any issue? There's nothing here," Zawaq said calmly, though concerned for the camp's safety.

He knew he couldn't act rashly, as it might endanger others. A confrontation had to be avoided.

"We're ensuring there are no criminals here," said one soldier.

"There are no criminals here, only children," Zawaq replied.

"Even children can be criminals. Step aside!" the soldier ordered angrily, annoyed by Zawaq.

Zawaq stood firmly in front of the lead soldier nearing the camp.

"You have no business here," Zawaq stated firmly.

One soldier raised his rifle, aiming at Zawaq's face.

"Are you conspiring with criminals?! You will face the consequences!" the soldier shouted, thrusting the bayonet attached to his rifle into Zawaq's chest.

The sharp blade couldn't pierce Zawaq's chest. It felt like hitting a solid wall, impervious to the threat.

"Leave. You're scaring the children. It's impossible for them to be criminals without any evidence," Zawaq asserted.

"You bastard, you have a death wish!" Another soldier lunged at Zawaq, striking his face with the rifle's butt.

Zawaq didn't budge. The blow felt as futile as striking a stone.

"Don't cause trouble. You're adults—act sensibly. Don't embarrass yourselves in front of the children watching us," Zawaq admonished.

The soldiers lowered their weapons. One spat on Zawaq's shirt, but he ignored it. They left the camp, leaving the adults in awe of Zawaq's courage.

Resting in the camp, Zawaq watched the children sing with the adults. Uncle Ibrahim sat beside him on the floor.

"Do you know why the Israhell soldiers came?" Uncle Ibrahim asked.

"Honestly, I don't know. What I do know is that they've killed children for fun—just as a hobby. Maybe they came to kill children?" Zawaq speculated.

"No. They often come to take children at random and bring them to their bases. Only God knows what those cursed Israhell soldiers do to them. Once taken, they never return," Uncle Ibrahim explained.

Zawaq looked towards where the soldiers had disappeared, then back at the singing children.

"Don't worry. Since your arrival, this town has been safe. People wonder how you face the Israhell soldiers without injury or disaster. They say you always confront them with words alone," Uncle Ibrahim said admiringly.

"I just don't want to see anyone hurt," Zawaq replied.

"You're a good person," Uncle Ibrahim said, patting Zawaq's shoulder with a proud smile.

"I wish I could do more for our people," Zawaq said.

"I understand how you feel. I feel the same, but I'm old now," Uncle Ibrahim said.

"Is there no one else protecting the children and teenagers?" Zawaq asked.

"People in this town do what they can. As long as humanity exists, we'll protect the weak, even if they're not our kin," Uncle Ibrahim responded.

"Is there no resistance against the Zionist regime's tyranny?" Zawaq asked.

"It's not that simple. We need weapons, members, and funds. More importantly, we need people to protect the families and the weak. Many things must be considered before resisting the oppressors," Uncle Ibrahim explained.

"You're right," Zawaq admitted.

"I hope you'll remember my words," Uncle Ibrahim said.

"I will, always," Zawaq promised.

Later, a soldier aimed his weapon at Zawaq. Not a hint of fear crossed Zawaq's face, knowing he was impervious to bullets.

The trigger was pulled. The rifle fired, the bullet striking Zawaq's body. The mechanism reset, another bullet loaded.

The trigger was pulled again. This time, the bullet hit Zawaq's forehead, piercing his skull.