Two Worlds Between Stars: the Seer
The Attack

It was a sunny day in Morocco like every other. The sun beat down in a burning blaze. The small amount of wind but the air in the wind chimes blew the clothing line around. Mama was setting up for dinner on the small table inside, and a 17-year-old girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes full of curiosity was watching her dog, Dari, play amongst the trees and the soot. She continued fiddling with gadgets and gears for her next inventing project and sat in the black and green grass. She was just like everyone else. She went to school with her best friend, Aamir. “Aamir,” she thought. Aamir was, as they said, very handsome. He had dark black hair, and green eyes, and was very strong from helping carry heavy equipment at the school gymnasium, though it was rare that the two could go to school since the farms took most of their time. It is the same thing every day, but it is her life and she loves it in Morocco. Dari started to jump and bark, and soon Adilah knew why. A rumble above the house came, then suddenly they heard explosions. Mama ran out and yelled, “Adilah get inside the shelter, the French are here!”

Adilah, going wide-eyed, quickly grabbed Dari and bolted for the bomb shelter while explosions and jets zoomed above her head in a matter of seconds.

“Shit,” she said. They were in the middle of the French Conquest of Morocco (1907 - 1927). Suddenly through the debris, Adilah sees her best friend, Aamir, running toward her.

She shouts but it seems like a whisper, “Aamir? Why are you here? I constantly look over my shoulder I don’t know what’s real anymore,” he then replies in a hoarse voice, “We can chitchat later when we don’t have planes above our heads. I am here because I needed to make sure you were ok, Grammy is safe already. Now let’s go” Covering their mouths, they ran inside the shelter and Mama ran in after. They locked the trap door, lit an oil lamp, and huddled together in the dim, musty room waiting for the danger to pass.

After a few hours, they drifted into an uneasy sleep, though the ground continued shaking and dirt was falling into their eyes. When they awoke, they opened the door.

What they saw shocked them. Dying fire, dirt-covered houses, upturned trees, scattered belongings, and bodies and blood amongst them. She winced and pried her eyes away; knowing that some of those mangled bodies could be her friends and neighbors.

Adilah, trying to sound positive, said, “At least we’re alive.”

Coughing, Mama said, “Let’s pray your father is too.”

Adilah’s father was working in another part of Morocco in the mines to gain some extra money and was gone for days at a time. Aamir lived with his grandmother about three blocks from Adilah. His parents had died serving Morocco in the war. Adilah worried about her father’s safety as she gathered some of her belongings. She watched as Dari, ran around in the debris-filled yard jumping, and playing with broken roots.