When It Rains Blood
By Reem Sleem
When you walk under the rain,
take off your shoes and walk barefoot.
Let your feet feel the water on the ground,
let them soak a little.
Let your feet sink into the mud, feel its softness and play with it,
using your toes.
But whatever you do,
do not look up at the sky.
At that gray sky with its black clouds.
You will see death hovering above you,
smiling a terrifying smile.
You will see deadly smoke in the air.
You will see the souls of children
gazing down at you with pity.
You will see the rain turning red,
mixed with blood.
You will not like the sight of the sky,
so don’t look at it.
Look at the ground,
at the puddle of water.
You’ll see your reflection in it.
Look closely and remember who you are.
This is you, and this is the land
where you grew up.
This puddle — debris will fall on it —
and at any moment, it kill you.
Run away from it and stop at another puddle. Look at your reflection again.
Remember who you are,
then run again.
And when the rain stops
and the puddles dry up, look up at the sky. Have you understood
what has happened to you?
Have you finally realized
what is going on around you?
Have you grasped that you are forgotten, perhaps even dead
to those who stripped you of your identity
and took away your safe refuge?
To those who killed your family
and broke your spirit?
The time has come.
You will go and fight so that the sky regains its blue, the clouds their white, and the rain is clear!
You will fight so that the sun rises, plants grow, and you breathe oxygen instead of gunpowder.
And either you return victorious, or you do not return at all.
Reem Sleem, an English literature student at Al-Azhar University from Gaza, is a writer of stories and articles. She has previously written for the websites of Electronic Intifada and the Institute of Palestine Studies. She was displaced to Egypt after the war on Gaza.