To be, or not to be: That is the question-Band Of Brothers

This chapter will include some derogatory terms. So this is a bit of a warning.

Sorry for a late chapter got some bad news, and have been a bit down since :()

Why is it okay,

to mock and hate lives you betray, excuses you make to slaughter and slay

Why is it okay,

Yet if it's a face not like yours, you turn it into a play be it one of yours, you turn and look away. It was a hate crime, a murder but the truth you never display your injustice is showing and one day, you'll repay.

"It was just a bad day"

And I wonder how many more till you have nothing left to say.

By Ruttab Noor 

The sun was beating down upon her tanning skin. The Georgian heat was officially a problem. The warmth in itself wasn't the issue; it was her skin soaking up the sun's flames, darkening it to a warm brown.

Kiran wanted to cry. She really wanted to cry—everything in her life felt strained, stretched taut like a fraying thread ready to snap. It was as if Allah himself had turned away from her, of course, she knew it not to be true considering the fact she was yet to be found out. That had to mean something.

One of her sister's letters had reached her during a mail call earlier that week. It was simple in form but heavy in its message. It asked her not to come but, at the same time, begged her to hurry up. It told her of the bombings in Britain, of shattered streets and sleepless nights, and of Zinebs' slowly growing stomach. The thought of her sister struggling alone made Kiran's chest tighten.

Apparently, the young woman had found a job as a nurse at one of the local hospitals, the pay wasn't very good though, it paid for her necessities but once it was time to push out a baby, she wouldn't have enough money to take care of them both and still work functioning hours let alone reduced ones.

Zineb needed to save but had no money over to do so. Kiran having received her first paycheck, a hefty amount of 100 dollars didn't hesitate, quickly putting 50 dollars in cash in an envelope addressing it to her sister along with a letter. The letter told Zineb she would be saving money on her own part so when she arrived on British soil they would be sure to have money to last if all the other boats hit the ocean bottom.

The letter did not address her own troubles, words carefully chosen. Simple endearments coated the letter's contents along with a curtain of optimism, hoping to be taken as calming when read. She wanted her sister to read it and feel a sense of calm, even amidst the chaos and stress.

The boys in her bunk teased her as she wrote, commenting on the loud, relentless scratching of her pencil against the parchment as she wrote. Thinking it was for their lessons. It was not. She pressed harder, ensuring the graphite etched itself deep into the paper, determined that her words would last. Even if the parchment never reached her sister's hand. The words would remain, frozen into the chemicalized tree forever. She wanted the promises to remain, the lines carved into the paper like a vow, lasting until the page itself crumbled into dust.

The second letter she wrote was filled with her own troubles, almost entirely opposite to the first one written for her sister. This letter was addressed to Femi and Amy in one. In hopes they would join each other once more to read of her shenanigans, and her sorrows. Where the first letter was hopeful, this one was raw, honest, and full of longing.