5 Years Later.
It's been 5 Years since I've been in this place!
It's been that long! Well it didn't feel that long, but everything is changing so fast it's really absurd.
So to recollect everything that has happened in that time~, I was born in a country called Israel that's in a war with the country of Palestine.
I'm technically born a sin, my Father is an Israelite and my Mother is Palestinian. Legally they're not allowed to be together due to the Israeli laws. Legally I don't have a Mother, on my Birth Certificate it's just blank.
My Mother moved to Israel to study in University which was where she met my Father who eventually became a professor there. She was taking me back to Palestine to show me to her family before the insurgent group attacked the Israel-Palestinian border.
That's where the fiasco happened! I guess the kid must've died and I took his place. It's a lot tougher to enter a body suited for consciousness when there is already a conscious person inside of it.
It's like trying to fit two hermit crabs into one shell.
Ever since the crisis we've been living in Israel underneath the Iron Dome. It's an anti-missile system that shot down any missiles that tried to enter it.
This is so cool! But that wasn't the reason I'm here.
I'm here to begin siphoning materials!
That means I need to start connecting to the most important people!
"Uriel it's time for lunch" A soft sweet spoken voice echoed through the house.
I felt my body being lifted up. "Are you still spending each day reading books?"
I sulked. I was just getting to the good parts.
I had to bring out my ultimate tactic: Crying!
"Waahhhhh!!"
"Uriel, do you want to read your books that badly?"
I stopped crying and looked at my Mom with her soft glazed color skin and her gentle eyes. If you took a closer look, right behind her drawn eyebrows, and the place where her face ended and her hair began, there was a slight faint scar that remained. It looked like a soft scar of the cracked Earth, its path arching like a drunken man's walk as it slowly faded and ended.
If you went a bit below that scar you would come in contact with her dark hazel eyes, which reflected gently in the sun. It was like I was looking at dark hazel shaped pearl eyes, and if you followed it to the end where her eyelids ended there were a few wrinkles.
Almost unnoticeable, but she looked good with it, like the accents in a refined wine's smell. There was a kind of beauty that came with age.
Yet if you follow her lips where the ends curved up, it formed a smile. Wrinkles were shy and hid themselves between the folds in her skin. A bright shining row of teeth was in its place, and I can seem to understand what it means to have a Mother.
"I know you want to read, You're just like your father but don't forget to eat" She continued to pick me up ignoring my requests.
I grumbled, "Hnghggh"
"Once you eat I'll leave you to your books alright Uriel? You wouldn't want to get hungry"
I sighed. I let her pick me up like a lifeless doll.
"Uriel!" Another femine voice came out, but to me after these past years it was a voice of horror!
An absolute danger! She would get me and dress me up! She would make me play house with her!
It was my older sister!
"Ayala, did you get the dinner table set up?"
"Yes Mom!" An energetic voice was heard.
I've only learnt some words of the Hebrew Language and the Arabic Language but I understand the main words.
My Mom put me down before helping my Sister set out the table. It was some home cooked meals. I sat next to my Sister who was 8 years old, a head and a half taller than me.
The heavy creaking of the wood told me that my Father was coming from his office. He was a man with gentle eyes, a head of black hair, that looked messy and unkempt but it looked good on him. He held a very academic look to him, and he still looked young.
He actually held a very messy academic look, with his unkempt and unstraightened tie, his slightly slouched gait like he just came out of a tiring meeting. He was tall and the sharp outline of his shirt revealed the muscles he hid away, but currently he had the appearance of someone who just woke up.
He looked like those models in the magazine whose hair looked messy but neat in a way. His eyes were just as brown as my mother's but his eyes were deeper, and were darker than hers. He seemed to be holding an enormous amount of knowledge behind those eyes.
A soft uncradled smile, like those smiles you practiced in the mirror but can't get right.
As he sat down my eyes unconsciously scanned the room. My mother brought the food from the kitchen to the dinner table, My father sneaking some of the snacks for himself as he tried to bribe me with some snacks. The acute smell of Mediterranean food filled the room, the sound of laughter, and snickers. The clacking of utensils as I saw my sister sneakily shoving the vegetables to my plate. I laughed and a single thought filled my mind; This was my family.