Father cradling his twin children on his way to graveyard.

You remember the day I and my twin sister Aya were born last year in Idlib our home? Like all other children those 9 months of our lives were the days we spent mostly in the cradle of safe arms of yours.. We knew we were safe in those hands who would not let any harm come near to us.

You took selfies of mine and Aya while we smile and play around. But today we will not be able to smile anymore. Aya is telling me in her groaning voice that she can not breathe. That thing in the air is killing me. Papa! Why don’t you do something to help us? said Aya while taping her feet on ground. I could see tears in her never blinking eyes. But papa I can see you can not do anything to help her. I and Aya are not breathing anymore and lifeless bodies of our Mama and other family members are lying beside us. Papa why are you faint? Would you not like to say goodbye to us while we leave this world? Aya’s opened eyes have left the world with unanswered questions. Why did you let this happen to us? What harm had we done to our assassins? Why did they kill us? Papa! Dying slowly by pulling gas into our tiny lungs was unbearable but we made it. We don’t have to fight this pain ever again.

Papa you are hugging us but sorry I and Aya can not hug you back today. I could not tell you one last time that I loved you. I loved Aya and Mama more than anything in this world. Please do not cry, Papa! We are leaving this world may be for we never deserved to be here. We were born to suffocate to this death, our fate.

Don’t worry papa! Mama is with us and see we have all family members here in heaven. See Aunt Amira, her husband and their children are with us. Here we have no fear of death. We don’t have any fear of cruel humans beings.

I see our American Uncle is not happy with us. Right from above, I see they are sending more of our friends from Idilib to heaven here. Papa, please send all of them above here. Here is no fear of death and demise, no fear of gas.
The bombs fired on Uncle Mohammed’s house has sent all his children here. Our death is avenged papa. I will tell God all this. Waiting to see you in heaven.
Your son,