I was on the last step on the stairs in my grandparents’ old house when my entire family and relatives were downstairs looking at me. They were all sad with their faces pale. I asked my uncle if there is a problem. He looked at me from downstairs and said, “It’s our neighborhood”. We both sighed and then I woke up at this moment.
I ran to the computer to see if something bad has happened. My heart was beating fast. I could hear the beats as if it came from a drum. “The email- yes- first,” I said to myself even before wearing my spectacles. I noticed that there is something wrong! I couldn’t read my emails. I grabbed them without even looking at them. My heart was still beating. I found nothing in the email. It was a positive sign. But I said wait! Maybe there was nothing in the email because something bad might have happened. So I checked the newspapers headlines and read all those about Iraq to check if something happened in my neighborhood or my relatives’. I found nothing. Another sigh followed by me leaning on the chair. PHEW!
I found out later that the nightmare almost happened in reality but in my house. My parents told me on the telephone that my relatives were all gathered in my our house for Iftar, the Muslims’ time of breaking their fasting during the holy month of Ramadan.
These days, I have nightmares almost everyday. The continuous bad news keeps me always worried. I don’t know how to explain that but I believe it is happening for many reasons. First of all, I don’t remember I slept well since the invasion. Sounds of bombs, shooting, and the fear of being killed everyday deprived me from sleeping well. I had to wake up at least three times at night with my heart beating fast as if someone is chasing me. This feeling is still haunted inside me. I still wake up at night on any sound of any thing and still have nightmares of my family and myself being chased and killed. Eventually, I wake up dizzy.
Sounds of sirens of police vehicles, fire trucks and ambulances are an everyday scene in Philadelphia. They are almost the same ones I used to hear in Baghdad. There is a high percentage of crime here and that makes me worry sometimes. TV channels always report about someone killed or robbed, not to mention the car accidents. But I always keep telling myself that I survived three wars, sanctions and tyrannical era. I can manage being safe. It won’t be worse than what is happening in Baghdad.
I ran to the computer to see if something bad has happened. My heart was beating fast. I could hear the beats as if it came from a drum. “The email- yes- first,” I said to myself even before wearing my spectacles. I noticed that there is something wrong! I couldn’t read my emails. I grabbed them without even looking at them. My heart was still beating. I found nothing in the email. It was a positive sign. But I said wait! Maybe there was nothing in the email because something bad might have happened. So I checked the newspapers headlines and read all those about Iraq to check if something happened in my neighborhood or my relatives’. I found nothing. Another sigh followed by me leaning on the chair. PHEW!
I found out later that the nightmare almost happened in reality but in my house. My parents told me on the telephone that my relatives were all gathered in my our house for Iftar, the Muslims’ time of breaking their fasting during the holy month of Ramadan.
These days, I have nightmares almost everyday. The continuous bad news keeps me always worried. I don’t know how to explain that but I believe it is happening for many reasons. First of all, I don’t remember I slept well since the invasion. Sounds of bombs, shooting, and the fear of being killed everyday deprived me from sleeping well. I had to wake up at least three times at night with my heart beating fast as if someone is chasing me. This feeling is still haunted inside me. I still wake up at night on any sound of any thing and still have nightmares of my family and myself being chased and killed. Eventually, I wake up dizzy.
Sounds of sirens of police vehicles, fire trucks and ambulances are an everyday scene in Philadelphia. They are almost the same ones I used to hear in Baghdad. There is a high percentage of crime here and that makes me worry sometimes. TV channels always report about someone killed or robbed, not to mention the car accidents. But I always keep telling myself that I survived three wars, sanctions and tyrannical era. I can manage being safe. It won’t be worse than what is happening in Baghdad.
