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Iran

Mina, a 15-year-old girl in Iran, describes her life amidst ongoing conflict, including frequent air raid sirens and canceled school. She reflects on the loss of friends and the struggle for basic necessities, while finding solace in poetry and memories of normalcy. Mina packs a go-bag each night, holding onto hope for peace and a return to a normal life.

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38 views1 page

Iran

Mina, a 15-year-old girl in Iran, describes her life amidst ongoing conflict, including frequent air raid sirens and canceled school. She reflects on the loss of friends and the struggle for basic necessities, while finding solace in poetry and memories of normalcy. Mina packs a go-bag each night, holding onto hope for peace and a return to a normal life.

Uploaded by

dizzyhead75
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd

Iran

Girl-Mina
Age-15
The sirens woke me up at 3 a.m. again. Father said it was only a drill, mother
just clutched the radio so I couldn’t hear. I was so tired I couldn’t move a
muscle; my dreams were flickering.
Schools were canceled again for the 11th time in a row. We were supposed to
have the exam today but the wi-fi was bombed. Fatemeh was a good friend of
mine I texted here like a normal person would (Thank the lord for VPNs). Here
cousin died in the Shiraz strikes, I didn’t know what to say so I just left her on
read.
We went to the bakery in hopes of getting at least a kilogram of bread. Luckily
the tray was almost empty but just enough left for us. I noticed more than half
of the people look at the skies than each other. Minutes after our breakfast our
power was out which was nothing oout of the ordinary.
Father read us some lines from the Saadi, he said, even in war we must
remember we are human, and poetry is how we stay human. Afternoon was
when the alarm strikes again. We hid in the basement for 40 minutes. I only
read a book-Narnia-a very basic one but enough to keep me entertained.
Meat is expensive now so we had to rely on simple agriculture foods with a
touch of seasoning. I also had a dog-key word “had”. He passed away a few
months ago due to natural reasons.
I packed my go-bag again tonight. It’s a strange ritual now. Passport. First-aid
kit. Granola bars. Water. A flashlight. My sketchbook. This Diary. And The
Quran. I also taped a photo of my old school class to the inside of the bag. And
one ‘Tyla’ sticker. I used to be embarrassed by how much I liked music. Now I
think it reminds me that there’s still a world out there — concerts, colours,
music. Normal life. Life without sirens.

At night I only wonder what the kids in Israel might be thinking, maybe writing
a journal just like this one. All I want is peace and a normal life, nothing much.

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