Darine opens her eyes; her vision is blurred with white confetti. She fixes her head in the fluff of her mother’s sweater.
Earlier that day, Darine sat on a plastic chair on the balcony reading Perks of Being a Wallflower. Her mother sat on the floor next to her with a bucket of water and soap, handwashing that week’s laundry. Darine had remembered when her sister gave her that book.
“Wasn’t my cup of tea when I was your age, but I think you’ll like it” the sister had said.
Darine liked it so much it was her third time reading it.
The sky above Darine hailed white confetti. The low rumble of overhead warplanes shook the window by her head. Her mother flung the laundry in the bucket and grabbed Darine by the arm. Insisting on catching white confetti, Darine resisted her mother’s firm grasp and put out her arm until she caught one.
“Yalla (go on), time to come inside”, called the mother, tugging Darine’s sleeve. The mother then locked the shutters and grabbed the small emergency bag from under her bed.
“I’ll call your father; you grab some water and snacks”, she continued, shaking, as she fumbled for her Nokia brick. Darine read the contents of the white confetti quietly.
“It’s not fair” she shouted with a blank look on her face, unyielding.
“Mounir, did you see the flyers? Darine and I will be in the basement as a precaution. May God lead you home safely”, Darine listened to her mother’s words, the white confetti now on the floor as tears rolled down her freckled face.
Darine lifts her head up from her mother’s bosom. She recognizes the brown walls covered with moss and thin mattresses laid on the basement floor. She sees the water bottles and snacks she grabbed earlier near where she, her mother and her father rested. Everyone from the building was there. Almost everyone – her aunt’s husband was not there. Yet.
“Are you awake, habibti (my sweetheart)? asks her mother, “Your aunt Salwa’s husband has not returned yet, we’re worried he won’t make it before the shelling” she continues.
“What happened to my white confetti”, Darine purses her lips and sits upright, her braided hair now a mess.
“There will be others, there always is. Until God wills it to stop”, the mother holds Darine closer to her chest, covering her ears.
