Messages from the Ashes of War: prisoner of love

By Amna Albedwawi

Messages from the Ashes of War is a romantic novel that depicts a love story that has suffered a lot to keep it vibrant.

The hope of meeting remained like a burning candle in the hearts of lovers. It refused to be extinguished and surrendered.

The story takes place in a kingdom called “Euphrates” and tells what it suffered from a civil war, which simulates in miniature and simple the “Syrian war”

It discusses the consequences, both physical and psychological, such as disabilities and depression.

In addition to the suffering of the individual under its shadow of displacement, asylum and alienation

The novel discusses many social issues, such as divorce and terrorism.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781471034039

Book preview

Messages From The Ashes of War

(The Prisoner of Love)

BY

Amna Ibrahim Albedwawi

2022

Intellectual Property Rights

© 2022 by Amna Ibrahim Albedwawi

Amna Albedwawi has the right as the author of this work, in accordance with the United Arab Emirates Law No. 7 of 2002 regarding copyright and related rights.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in the context of the above, may be liable to legal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

First Edition (2022)

www.lulu.com

Author's Instagram account: @schleier_12

Author's Twitter account: @samt_9mona

Map of Kingdoms

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my mother and father, the fragrance and joy of this life who have left my world.

To my brothers whose prayers and advice always followed me and forever...

To those who stood by my side in my first book Khalid's Promise and encouraged me to continue writing to achieve my own dream which has been close to my heart for years...

To those for whom I do not know what name they should be called, to those whose words, mockery, and laughter made a solid ladder for me to climb, reach my dreams, and water my ambitions with dedication and hard work that is covered with hope.

Very grateful for everyone... to every single person that once read my words, whether on a book or social media platform, and shared my admiration and appreciation...

I dedicate my new book to you all, hoping that it obtains your satisfaction and admiration.

My warmest greetings,

Special Thanks

By Luck, we met, and in my heart, you slept

Faraway of any hate, even the rhythm of my own beat

Once I knew you and knew what the brother and the friend should mean… You are a gift from heaven… an angel that always follows me and forever it will be.

I pray to Allah to bring us together in heaven, as He did in this life.

Seymav

I wrote my novel,

For those who were dispersed from their houses, and gathered in the misery and cruelty of the lands of exile...

For those who wrote the letters of survival with their own tears, pens, and the blood of their hearts… even if there is no one to reply, or no more stories to be written…

For the smell of paper enveloped and decorated with stamps…

For the homing pigeons of peace... and every postman... that carried in their pockets the longing of our hearts that did not abate with the passage of time... gathered the sincerity of our words, even if the lands and tongues differ... preserved the pearls of our tears, even if they dried by the winds...

Subsided the flames of our longing, and muted its screams,

For all of you... I wrote this novel...

Perhaps anyone of you will find his long-lost soul...

Overview

I am not the inimitable politician they call; I do not even belong to.

I am a woman lost a home, a free land that is no longer free, raped by those I don’t know?

Are they the dreamers of freedom, the politicians, the ambitions of the ruling class, or the hidden enemy that lies behind the crying faces over the shreds of my own people?

I am a young homeless refugee child searching only for security with memories of a warm house lying on the bank of the Euphrates River accompanied by family and friends that were far away from conflicts, wars, and affiliations.

Between the Folds of this book, I am just a human being who does not care about the truth or the reasons that slept him on the corners of the streets like an abandoned child, rejected by all because of the shame, doubt, suspicions, and names that will accompany him to the grave.

I am Sham… The land of history ... The beacon of culture ... The home of writers and scholars ...

The Birthplace of Abu Tammam, Nizar Qabbani and Hanna Mina...

I am not writing these words to defend anyone... We all are guilty... We somehow had a role, even if it is a small one, in the decimation, destruction, and displacement of our homeland.

We all have lost our compass, our identity, our dreams, our youth, and our cultural and social heritage... Our national cohesion ... Our humanity.

When love blooms from the ashes of war and messages remain the medicine of hearts saturated with alienation and nostalgia and hope remains a pulse that lasts forever

Contents

Map of Kingdoms

Dedication

Special Thanks

I wrote my novel,

Overview

Contents

Introduction

The Beginning

The Prisoner of Love

The Spark of War

Obligatory Emigration

Longing Heart

Petrified Tears

Surprising Decision

Scattered Messages

Wounded Bird

Yellow Flower

Standing on the Ashes

The Great Exile

Dispersion and Aimlessness

Forgotten Refugee

Flash of Flames

Phantom of The Past

I Am Here

Love on Death Row

Blank Maternity

Return after Departure

Flash of Hope

Neighbor Stole The Land

Born From The Womb of Exile

An Expired Dream

Hope to Return

It may be followed...

Message From An Anonymous Emigrant

Introduction

Words are always written and fly away with the winds of the days.

Perhaps it did not reach its destination, or it did and never read, or perhaps no one cared about them.

There are always hidden words in the chests… behind laughter... among the drops of tears and the sparkle of eyes.

People always keep their words between their lips, either they say them, or write them down, or tell someone about, someone that they think is the custodian of their words and the trustee of their letters perhaps one day it will reach to whom they are written.

They always have words that they wish they could imitate on the neck of a homing pigeon, so it would fly them to the distant sky.

There where serenity ... purity ... and beauty are found...

For the windows to be open one day ... and the good tidings come on a bird's wings

.

The Beginning

Do you know?

You made me cry to the point of pain, to the point of annihilation and destruction.

You locked me in a big vast maze whose doors are just a path to another phase… Tomorrow never seems to come and the soul is slowly fading into the shadow realm.

I was there like a drowning man… floundering among the wild waves… holding his breath to live his last seconds on earth... Just like the lifeless soulless dead corpse that is empty of any kind of force…

Do you know?

Miles have been walked to prove the true love, innocence, and good faith that my heart has been holding, a breeze of happiness that you prevented me from, a beautiful flower never blooming, and beautiful feelings you never heard.

You always questioned me, considered me one of those criminals and villains, one of those who have no conscience and know nothing about love. You judged me without defending a word, without any justice, and jailed me into that cold dark prison giving me nothing to heal my wounds. Every time I look from that small hole to search for a thread of hope, you threw me with your sharp words which hit my heart like sharp, poisoned arrows. Every time I feel safe, you leave me alone between the folds of darkness… Do you have the right to do so to me?

Just because I entered your world one day from childhood after a hit of a ball that almost took your life!

What stupid test did you force me to take?

Do you have the right to cause me all this pain just because you are doubting and questioning me?

Did I gain your trust now? or still in doubt?

Do you know?

I am striving every day to stay away from you, packing my bags and erasing my tracks, my memories, and all those moments that we lived together, blocking the paths that may lead me to your world. I run away with silence and a soul covered with calm.

I am running and running and running perhaps the winds of tomorrow erase the traces of the past. Every time my heart beats and my soul settles, I only feel myself writing to you again.

I see my smile runs to you and my heart looks for you, nothing except my heartbeat, too much noise that makes me suffer, and on an alone chair I a seat.

Bashir, let's stay friends as we were in our childhood. I will be here if you ever need me but as a friend and sister. I wish you well wherever you are. Thank you for everything

I folded the letter that I wrote and put it in his language book and went back to the classroom before anyone could notice.

My friend (Lama) asked me: Is it done?

-      Yes, thank you for watching my back, Lama, but I won't bother you anymore.

-      Have you really thought about it, Sham?

-      Yes. I even think that it took me too long to do so.

-      Let's go back to the classroom, and wait for this bell to ring. Today is a very long day that never seems to end.

-      You say the same words every day. The school year is ending, and tomorrow you will miss those days and the sound of that bell as well.

She laughed and the day ended as it begins.

I was hoping that I won't meet him on my way to school so that I could get over this matter quickly and stop thinking about it.

-      Good morning, Sham.

-      Where did you come from, Lama? are you a ghost?

-      Thank you for reminding me of the plant. We will succeed, insh'Allah, don't worry.

-      I think your mind's memory is full, we should clear the store quickly.

-      Enough talking and let's go, we will be late.

I left the classroom with my other friend (Lubna) after hours of lessons and exams in this high school, and we both took the plant with us after we finished our project together.

She stopped me at the classroom's door and asked: Will you wait for Lama or he is waiting for you at the school gate?

-      No, I will go with you two.

-      The war between you and him still going on, then?

-      It isn't a war. It is just a misunderstanding.

-      Maybe he needs a little more time to trust you. You know him; he isn't like the others.

-      What time does he need? We are close to finishing school, and you still say that he needs more time!?

-      He previously was just a childhood friend like any other boy in the neighborhood, and perhaps he isn't prepared to love anyone or even he was afraid of such an idea.

-      Did you ask him to marry so that he would be afraid?

-      Bashir is a kind of a man that think deeply about every detail, and he sure doesn't want you to get too attached to him while he is unable to make you happy, and maybe he also misses the love and care because of the death of his mother after his birth.

-      I know that and that's why I wrote him one last letter yesterday, and I will try to make him only a friend.

-      You did well. If he wants you, he will surely knock on your door.

-      It seems that I will wait a long time for this door to be knocked on.

-      Let's go. Maybe Lama is waiting for us at the gate while we're talking.

We reached the gate to find that she was standing near the wall, so I shouted at her: You are here and we are waiting for you, oh...

I looked and saw him leaning against that wall with one foot raised, holding his books in his hand as usual.

I said to myself: He never carried a bag like anyone else in this school, perhaps he doesn't have the money to buy one, who knows?! He is like the mystery box that full of secrets.

Lubna said to him: Hello Muhammad Bashir. how are you? (As if she intended to smooth things between us).

So he replied to her: I am fine, my friend. Would you allow me to take Sham for today as well?

I was thinking Is he mad? Am I dreaming or he is just sick and become delirious?

Lubna replied with a smile on her face: We will let her go only for today. Goodbye Sham see you tomorrow.

They left me with Bashir and hurried home, while their voices are mixed with the sounds of their footsteps.

He looked at me while I was in shock and asked: Could you be a little late for your home or will there be a problem to do so?

-      Why?

-      I would like to take you somewhere near from here.

-      Where is this place?

He held my trembling hand, tightened his fist, and said: Let's go, you will know when we arrive.

We walked in the opposite direction to the village located behind the school where there were abandoned and rundown houses all over the road.

I asked him one more time with fear creeping into my heart: Where are we going?

-      Are you feel afraid when you are with me?

-      No, I didn't mean that.

-      We'll go to that hiding place where I cry alone without anyone seeing me.

I said to myself: He cries...is he crying like us? I have never seen a single tear spill from his eyeballs throughout the years that I lived with him.

For whom did you drop your tears, Bashir, so that you came to shed them in this hiding place alone?

We arrived at a small house that was almost abandoned, but what caught my attention are those carefully planted flowers on the house's front facade, as if someone had been taking care of them.

I was astonished when he knocked on the door of that house, so I turned to him and asked: Does anyone live there?

-      Don't be afraid, there is no one inside.

He opened the door and gently pulled my hand to enter first, but I pulled away my hand and took a few steps back.

-      What happened, Sham? Please, get in. I promise you we will just talk.

I thought a lot while I was looking into his eyes, and told him: Okay, but keep the door open, please.

-      Alright, but I need to tell you something before you enter this house.

-      What is it?

-      Be sure that I won't make this heart feel sad anymore; I will make it beat with only joy.

-      You done now? Can I come in?

He laughed, bent his back, and gestured with his hand: Welcome to the palace, Princess Sham.

Unlike its exterior appearance, it was a clean house with very beautiful decorations that has two blue sofas just like the sea, with a white lace cover on top of them, and a circular wooden table in front of them with a white vase and flowers from the garden outside the house.

I saw an old stove to the right and another small table on which there is a teapot and some tea cups. I asked him: Do you sleep here?

-      No, I can't leave my father alone at home, but I come here to study and think far away from the noise of mankind.

-      Who knows about this place?

-      Now, only you.

I smiled and so did he, then he said: Please, have a seat, I made you a cup of tea, and we will talk a little so that you aren't late for your home.

He gave me the tea cup and sat away at the end of the other sofa. (I knew he was trying to make me feel safe)

He started his words by saying: I read your letter, and I wanted to tell you my answer in person, so you couldn't misunderstand me again.

He added: Foremost and first, I apologize to you if I ever made you feel sad or made you cry. I told you when you were still a little girl that no one deserves a drop of your tears, but you are stubborn. What is important is that there are a lot of feelings and love for you in the folds of my heart that your eyes mayn't see or you can't feel. You may see that I am very close to you today and far away tomorrow.

He looked at the cup in his hand, stirred it, and said: I just don't want to make you wait for me before I can put a ring on that finger, so I work hard with my father and help him after school to build myself and to deserve to be with you.

He remained silent for a while, put the cup on the table, looked at the ground, and rubbed his forehead hard.

I was watching him and imagining the words falling from his head.

He cut my stupid thoughts by saying: "Sham, I don't want you to feel guilty for the love you gave me, and being away from you is just because I afraid for you.

He looked into my eyes, smiled, and continued: "Yes, I won't hurt you, but I have always been alone, my father is all I had in this life, and I know nothing about love but my love for him, however, I was feeling so happy every time that I was close to you, like a flying bird in a blue warm sky. Day after day, I was feeling like I can't breathe without you.

He looked down after saying these beautiful words and started to cry.

I also cried, without realizing what is happening to me, so I approached him, put one of my hands on his cheek, and wiped his tears with the other. I returned to my previous position and remained silent because I felt that no more words should be told.

Waiting in silence should be enough for him to know that I will wait and always stay here for him.

He broke the silence by saying: I cry in this house when every time I feel alone.

He put his hands on his face and said: "I cry for my mother, who I didn't see and my heart miss. I cry for my father, who I hear moaning every day and never know what hurts him, is he just tired from his work or from the longing he has for my mother? I cry for my friends and companions who changed because of the circumstances of life. I cry for the bird of love caged in my chest, and I don't know how to release it so that it could fly to your nest to remain there forever. Neither the