I’m a thirteen year old boy in Mosul, Iraq. ISIS fighters in my house, using my family as cover from coalition forces. If I survive, a lifetime of choices in my future. My eyes wide open, my brain in high gear.
Our coalition struck, the fighters, now gone. My Mother, baby sister, big brother as well. I saw it all. Bullets flying, this close to my head. Explosions, walls crumbling, my whole world shaking beneath my feet. The chaos, the shouting, the cursing, the silence. Then the screams of pain realized, poised to haunt me forever.
“As cover” meant nothing. Both sides do I hate. The only epiphany I have, both sides do I hate.
I’m that same young boy, in that very same moment. My family held hostage. My future, my eyes, my mind, just as open. The attack never comes. ISIS indeed was right. My Mom is still here, baby sister still smiles. I saw it all, no bullets, no explosions. Our walls still intact. No screams do I hear to haunt me till death. My world clearer now, my feet still on Earth.
The epiphany I have, “As cover” meant something. The good, I see true.
“As cover” meant something. My family, my life. Whose forces held us dear, above their own life?
My future still open, eyes still just as wide. My choices, still there for me to decide. To whom do I run? For whom should I care?
I know now, “As cover” means something. And that will always be there.