Away from Life

WA E L K A N A A N

Preface
All the content in this book were written and photographed by me through year 2012 and published on my online blog. A simple and easy read that reects my thoughts and some of my personal experience.

For your comments and contact: Email: Waelboy@gmail.com Twitter: @Waelboy Facebook: Waooli Wordpress: Althie Flickr: Althie

Thank you and hope you enjoy reading!

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CHAPTER 1

Confession 1 of 3
They asked him to confess He grouped his ngers together, tightened his shoulders, and ducked his head. What do they want him to confess about? He didn't know. Searching the roof corners for an answer, he opened his mouth, but words didn't come out. They thought he was stalling and he thought they were pressuring him. "Lock him up" a scream exploded in the cold room, with anger radiating more than a nuclear bomb does. Two guards grabbed his elbows and buried him inside the four walls. He tried so hard to wake up, but it wasn't a nightmare. It was a reality that tasted bitterer than pain itself. The cruel iron wall screamed before blending in with the walls. He roamed the room, chose the wall that faced the failing attempt of what they called a window. There was still some daylight. If they nished with him early, he can manage to go back home and pretend nothing had happened. No one would know about this, only if he got out on time. They called him back again. The screamed harder this time, as if it hated being apart from the walls. As if it wanted his company for ever. Grabbed by his elbows again, he ducked his head, and threw his tears down as he walked forward. Maybe he will follow them back to his cell. They sat him on that naked iron chair. IT was as hard and cold as the eyes of the one who was waiting for him to confess. His lips refused to split up, his voice
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denied his authority and left him to suffer alone. They waited for his words to come out, and waited for the confession. His eyes focused on the oor under his feet, he folded his hands and sighed. They sighed back. The man with the hard voice got up from his chair, and left the room. That was not a good sign. He didn't order his men to take him back to his cell, then why was he being grabbed by his elbows again and again??? There was the last drop of tears that he left on the oor. Why then were they taking him? That passage was dark, too dark, but his eyes embraced the darkness, only to make it worse. That passage ended with a door. An iron thick door, that looked like it was made only to open once for every soul coming through. They stopped. One of the guards moved forward, worked his hands thoroughly, and with massive strength, the door nally opened. The darkness inside was darker than all the black ideas that took shelter in his head. The guard that opened the door retreated quickly, and the one next to him pushed him forward. As if the guards feared that door as well. As if that door saved severe agony behind it, only to serve it to its unique trembling guests. He was pushed harder, and forward until they threw him inside. This door screamed as well. Screamed louder and harder than any agonizing wound. The door united with the walls, thundering a slam like no other. It was silence that conquered his ears inside, only to be disturbed by his rapid heartbeats and consecutive attempts to breath. The passage was empty. The thick door was peaceful, stable and strong enough to eliminate any voice attempting to break the silence...

CHAPTER 2

Captivity 2 of 3
He was running, looking back every now and then, falling down, getting up, and running faster. Every breath he took called the next one so fast, he barely breathed enough. He opened his eyes to nd himself in his bed, sweat drew maps on his face, and his bed was shaking in harmony with his trembling body. And then he calmed down, convincing himself that this nightmare will not be a sign of a bad day. It was just a reection of what he witnessed back then. He closed his eyes, remembering every detail he absorbed. Many details, scattered here and there like a eld that is barely hosting few bundles of owers here and there. On that couch was the gun. On that table was the brief note she left. On that carpet was her blood, coloring the carpet with years of a life that ended on a desperate moment. She wanted her suffering to end, he gave her a hand in that, but she left this world for good, and she will not be able to return the favor. That left him no choice. He must disappear. That note was enough to clear him out in front of everyone, but not himself. He helped her out in this, and he was only helping. He couldn't deny her an end of suffering. Picking his scattered pride and fear, he left the room silently and started to walk back home. He must hide his feelings, and act like he never committed her suicide.
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 Getting out of bed and opening the door to leave his room was to him like abandoning his fortied castle and facing the unknown, but he was embraced with the warmth of his mother's eyes. That pained him so much. What if something happened and his actions were exposed? How would he meet the disappointment in those loving eyes? No one would ever imagine how hard he wanted to be a child again, to throw his head in his mother's lap and cry his fear out. A hard knock on the door moved his heart from its place. He wanted to scream, but the choke of his throat prevented him from pleading his mother not to answer that knock. And it was too late. They came in, running, as if he was a bird that needed to be captured before it ew away. His strength betrayed him, his body was carried by the harsh hands of those guards. Terror overwhelmed his body, prevented him from hosting the pain of being thrown in that iron-fenced vehicle. He stared through the iron bars, and the line that connected his sight to his mother's started to stretch as the vehicle moved. Only her screams kept his company at rst, then it was only the roaring of the vehicle that carried captivity on its back wherever it went. His house kept on growing smaller and smaller until it faded away. That made him alone and surrounded by guardians of fear. Like an ignorant sheep being taken to slaughter, he was directed through the dark alleys only to sit on a cold iron chair and facing a man wearing a frown that carried all the cruelty of the world. This frown was the crown of two bright eyes that couldn't be any darker. Those eyes demanded one thing. Only one thing. A confession...

CHAPTER 3

Breaking the Silence 3 of 3

The thick door thundered violently, announcing the beginning of a cruel isolation. His elbows were free again, but he was tied up with darkness. Standing in the middle of nowhere, he stretched his hands and moved them in every direction. His eyes scattered into pieces. His hands found nothing to touch and his eyes met no gaze but darkness. Thats it. He was locked up forever. This dark room was made for those who became forgotten, and he is now abandoned. His ears longed for nothing but a sound to hear, but there wasnt anything at all. He was abandoned; his senses left him to suffer alone, and only his blood remained faithful to him as it marched through his head like an army determined to crash every obstacle on the way.

Her face ashed in head and he screamed. His eyes dug the surrounding darkness for any ray of light, but it was too dark even for hope to exist. He screamed. His knees went weak on him and he fell down.

Suddenly, he parted up from the oor and listened carefully. Soft humming carried his name along and a far ray of light came to life. That was not the hope he waited for. The ray of light grew bigger while it approached him. It carried a face, a loving angry face. Oh, he missed her so much, he felt. But something was not right. Those were not her eyes that sprinted with joy. Those were the eyes she wore when he gifted her the way out of life. Those lips were mumbling, and he couldnt understand them just like the mumbling he didnt understand when he helped her
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depart from this life. Those lips were moving fast, they pleaded him to understand. His heart went silent when that face moved toward the door. The face was telling him something and he couldnt understand. He ran after it, but it disappeared without a trail to follow. He called her name, he shouted, and he yelled but she was gone again. Let me out he begged. Grant me light he cried. I loved her his tears splashed on the palm of his trembling hands. She wanted to go away, to leave his odd voice betrayed his sudden silence. His tears went dry, his palms wiped agony away from his face as he stood up and started to run. He must get out, he must leave this place, and he must go beg her for forgiveness. He ran and bumped into a wall that sent him back to the oor. He got up and ran again only for his heart to touch the oor beneath. He lost his mind. He got up and ran again. The sweetness of his blood tasted bitter when merged with agony. And he ran again and again until his strength surrendered to the oor and forced him to swallow his defeat. He couldnt explain it, but darkness was getting darker, the room was spinning, his lips were mumbling, and his body was struggling. His ears failed to warn him, the door was opened, and the guards dressed in white came to him. They dressed him in white while denying him the sleeves and carried him away out of the white room that hosted him on its oor.

His eyes panicked and refused the sudden disturbing light in the passage; only to grow wide at the site of her crying eyes next to his mothers bleeding eyes. The line that connected his confused gaze with their cries stretched until it broke when she hugged his mother and cried with pain as they took him to depart alone. *****

CHAPTER 4

Night Feelings

It was late when he decided to call it a night. Thunder outside drove him mad. To him, it was like the end of the world. He decided to hide, to run away from that irritating feeling. Tucking himself in his bed was the most treasured thing he ever did. He is safe now, shielded and armed with wool covers. The heart is sheltered with peace. The clock is ticking, but sleep was away for this night. He had feelings to spill, and so, he grabbed his papers and the pen resting on them and triggered his mind for writing. Where did all the ideas go? They were buzzing all over his
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head. Did they hide? Did they leave? Or simply, they died? There weren't any urge in him to dig them out, so he surrendered his papers to their prior refuge. What is wrong with him tonight? He wondered. This is emptiness in him, and he didn't have any ideas to write, so he decided to read.

As people scream out their true nature, his books did the same. They were his loyal companions. What he didn't know, was it that his night was a very important phase in his life. It is the night where his life will change forever.

He couldn't read, the pages were blank to his eyes. Despair claimed authority of his heart, and his life rolled like a short movie in his head. "When will this still life end"? That's it! The end. The end is what only matters now. He bumped out of his bed, opened the door of his balcony, climbed the iron fence surrounding it, spread his hands in the air, and got ready to jump.

His legs mesmerized in their place, his heart thundered faster than raindrops and louder than the noise around, but the raindrops were magical. They washed despair out of his system. He felt confused, betrayed and peaceful. Confused by joy, betrayed by emptiness, and peaceful by embracing hope that will lead him to a life where ambitions oated all over. He must be a different person now, he must make a difference. If it wasn't for the world, it would be for his little lame life... *****

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CHAPTER 5

A Mistake
Hard oor under his back, extreme darkness surrounded him as he was not sure if his eyes were open. He focused for a second, tried to remember why is he lying on the oor, but nothing came to his troubled mind. Moved his hands around, waved them up above, but nothing was there. He got up on his knees, tapping his hands on the cold oor to make a way and suddenly, light ashed all over the place. He tried to cover his eyes with his elbow, waited for a minute so his eyes could get used to the light, and opened them to have a look around. He was in a room of white and smooth walls. But something was missing. With a frown conquering his crumbled face, he searched thoroughly for the door of this room, but there wasn't any. There wasn't even a window. To his amazement, light came from nowhere. It was just there lling the creepy room. Putting his thumb and two other ngers, he squeezed his forehead trying to summon reasonable answers. How did he get in here? Why? When? And even where is he? But these were questions he couldn't answer. Black visions roamed his head. Reaching the more static questions, panic was taking place. Who is he? Who was he? What is he turning into? Only the echo of his questions thundered in his head. He doesn't remember existing before. He doesn't have whatsoever knowledge. An empty vessel worth nothing to ll it with. He must escape this nothingness and get out to existence. But fear is taking over. What will be waiting for him out there? What should he expect to nd? Starting to exist? There might not be any place for him to t in. With the drums of these thoughts, a squared crack started to paint itself on one of the walls.

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But, no! He will not escape. He must stay and maybe fade away. At this very thought, the walls started to dissolve. The oor turned into millions of pixels and his balance was running away from him. He is falling down. No, he is not falling, he is fading away. Darkness is eating him, swallowing him into a deeper level. Maybe it is too late to ght it now. His last thought turned into dust, scattered in chaos, and it was only darkness again. *****

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CHAPTER 6

Unconditional Fellow

Curled in bed, bleeding tears, wrapped in darkness, and loneliness is his only friend. Will it end soon? He starts to think! He does this to himself. It cures him to get his feelings down. It cures him to draw tears out of his eyes. Maybe because at daytime he believes that life is great. Maybe if he cried his nights, he would laugh his days. He rolls back his day, his moments, in his head. How many shared a smile with him? How many shared a laugh? But no one to share his meals with. He eats alone, and chokes with every bite. Moon rays crawl inside, sweet and soft
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humming oats from outside. He must go out. As soft breeze moves forward, touching his skin, cooling his cheeks, putting the remaining tears back to where they belong. He walks down the road, puts his hand out, above the rising plants. Calmness reaches his head and peace gets into his heart. So much to scream out, yet no one to share the burden with, no one to give a hand in this heavy carriage. Suddenly, he notices the only friend that has always been with him. Never demanded a thing in return. Never complained and has always been there under the sunlight, its there, under the moonlight, its there. Oh dear friend he says. A joyful tear slips out, If you could only talk to me he says. And there he stays, his unconditional friend, his unconditional shadow. Silent, anticipating, and unrevealing. *****

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CHAPTER 7

Midnight Struggle

It was after midnight when sleep suddenly ed out of his eyes. It was after that when he traveled all over his bed to nd the perfect spot where sleep resided. It was then when he surrendered to the urge of going up and writing. He must write the guilt and shame out of his heart. He squeezed his eyes one last time; maybe sleep will get in and nally rest. But, all was in vain, and he must explain.

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Grabbing the papers and the pen resting on them was a hard decision to make. But the remorse storming inside of him must be sent away. If he is going to write, how should he address her? Dear Beloved? She was never a beloved. She didnt take his breath away. She didnt make his heart beat faster. In fact, she almost slowed it down, he thought. Dear friend? The plan was to fall in love. He wanted her to be the one that will t in that empty frame carried in his heart, he thought. No, she was not the one. But yet, she turned his life upside down. The memories of all who came before her bumped in his head. To leave him, they were always right. And by them, he was always left. Why did this one stay? Was she that desperate? Or, was he that good? Oh, yes, he remembers. He was that good. Good in lies that is. Pretending to be perfect, claiming morals he never had before, and radiating the honor he always desired. He didnt break her heart for her sake. No, he remembers now, it was for his sake. But breaking her was breaking his pride, was crashing his ego, and was turning him from the usual victim into the perfect slayer. And for that, he must not ignite the ame he put out. He must not break her again. He must go back to sleep, and nd the lost peace that he had once before. *****

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CHAPTER 8

I Missed You

I will put my hand on this pillow, lay my cheek on that hand, grab my knees closer to my chest, and try falling asleep.

Something is wrong with my bed. Your smell laid no more on my pillow, your ngers swayed no more on my forehead, and your breath traveled no more on my chest. And something is wrong with my room. My stairs drummed no more with
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your steps, my door trembled no more with your dancing ngers, and my walls echoed no more with your laugh. And something is wrong with me.Your frown faced no more my jokes, your ngers trembled no more in my hand, and your gaze met no more my eyes.

So I close my eyes, squeeze them tosee you there, between them and their lids. I calm down, to nd your smile hanging on my curtains. I turn around to confront your shining eyes in the darkness. And there you are, sitting in the corner of my heart, unrevealing yourself until its the right time.

And there my eyes relax, my body surrenders, sleep must be on the way. My eyes are heavy, the voices from outside are gone. And then I open my eyes, my body tightens, I hear your voice, I hear your calling. I call you back, I'm here, I'm Here, where are you? There is my hand reaching out to you, there is your voice fading away, there are your steps thundering away.

I open my eyes again, the pillow is wet, the bed is empty, the room is dark, and I am all alone. I close my eyes again, I squeeze harder, I search for you again, but you are gone. Did you knock and I didn't hear it? I jump out of my bed, open the door, and its just that empty dark alley, with that broken lamp. I should have xed that lamp, maybe darkness made you change your mind, maybe you are down there waiting for me. I run the stairs down, pop up in the street, and there it is empty. My tears are falling, I have to get back. I will not stop crying, maybe my tears will lead you to me if you forgot where my house is.

I will stay awake, I will watch the road, maybe you will come from that end, and with you sunrise will come. I will stay awake and wait. *****

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CHAPTER 9

Weird Love

Can I hold your hand? -No, you can't. -I will hug you! -No, you won't. -I'm going to kiss you!
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-No, you are not. -Why? -Because! -What? -Nothing. -Tell me? -Every time you hold my hand, my skin freezes, my words stop at the edge of my mouth, and my lips crumble -Oh! -When you hug me, I feel secure be tween your arms, and it scares me. You make me want to run away, to hide, and search for danger. -Why? -To run back to you and collapse between your arms - -When you kiss me, you make me shiver, you ignite the volcano that relaxes in my stomach -Really? -Yeah
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-Why didn't you say so before? -Here I am, saying it now. -Saying what? -I love you! -You do? -Yeah, you love me with your actions, I love you with my words. -Come give me a hug! -No! -Why now? -Because I'm leaving! -Oh, why? -Because I'm strong, and you make me weak. -We can be strong together. -No, I'm doing ne on my own, thank you! -You are weird! -Yeah, I know. -Yeah. -Ok, goodbye -Bye... ******

C H A P T E R 10

Whispers

Whispers were her only friend. Whispers came to her every time she slept, begging her to wake up. Whispers came to her every time she woke up, pushed her out of bed. Whispers came to her every time she got up, driving her blindly to the window. Whispers were her only friend. Whispers only came to her, and only she obeyed them. She never understood the reasons that dragged her to the window. To stand still, contemplate the outside, focus on that window in the house facing hers.
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That window was the center of her attention. The center of her attraction. The shelter of her buzzing thoughts. And, the destiny of her traveling sight. Away from that window, loneliness manipulated her, drove her back to stand still and contemplate that window.It was the feeling of someone on the other side, standing still, contemplating her window. It was the feeling of someone on the other side that mesmerized her thoughts, her feelings, and her heart.

No No, no It was not the window. It was that dark slide that captured her breaths. Hope lied there. Hope hid there. She was never lonely when invaded that darkness with her eyes. It was hope that gave strength to her perishing heart. That slightly open window was the reason of her survival. One day, the last piece of her puzzled heart will take its place. Whoever was there, whoever hid behind that darkness was the reason of her whispers, the reason of her circulated life, and the reason of her moments going by.

She must not surrender. She must not let desperation grow in her heart. She must not strangle her life with a rope, connecting her to that window, to that darkness, and maybe to that fading away hope. And she must not fade away. *****

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C H A P T E R 11

Alone in this World

Someday I will plant a seed in my heart. As seed of Love. I will water it with as much happiness as I can afford. And, Will take care of it.

In Summer, I will reect sunlight with my smile. Hope will overwhelm my heart, and bloom within. In fall, I will set my tears loose. And, unleash my sorrows into the emptiness of naked branches and the silence of fallen leaves.
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In winter, rivers will ood inside of me. Screams will dig their way out, and explode in harmony with winds blowing. In Spring, that seed will crawl out of my muddy heart, and with it, peace will embrace my trembling nerves.

Anger has drunken me with bitterness; a sip at a time.Agony breached me, conquered my inside. A frown took shelter in my blurry eyes, and hatred lled my ears with humming all around.

I will reap what I sow, and this seed will grow. As with it, peace will take over while I cease to exist. *****

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C H A P T E R 12

Silent Scream
She came, laid her elbows on that rusty iron fence, pinned her ngers together and sight-fully dived into the deep ocean. It was her who inspired him. It was her stillness that irritated him. Why? Why did she come every sunset? He knows why he came! For him, it was meditation, it was setting his eyes loose and traveling to where the end of the world lies. Why did she come? He decided to ask her.

Clapping his hands once, pressing his palms on his knees, he rose up and marched like a determined soldier toward that mystic fortress.

The moment he reached her, she turned her eyes to face his questioning face. To his pathetic attempt, she imprisoned a silent scream in her eyes that were ooding with tides of tears. Then, she lifted her pain with the movement of her perishing smile and spoke with a trembling voice:

"To the deepest of this ocean, I set my secret for sail. To the eyes of this world, I keep my pain unnoticed. To this ocean of secrets, I reveal my wounds and share the burden of hearts, the hearts that are broken with losses." *****

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C H A P T E R 13

And the Curtain Falls

A tear struggled it's way out of his eye, but a painful scream remained within. Doctors predicted the end of his days close, yet he felt the curtain going down sooner, today! Trying to burry his urge to bleed his tears out, a stronger will came to life. He must leave this ship with dignity, with his head up high, and with a moment that can't be more peaceful. Before, he embraced peace coming within the marching breezes and took it for granted. But they were never precious moments when his life was a fact, not a possibility. Things change, turn upside down, and never remain the same. With a strong will, he packed what remained of his murdered smile and wasted his precious trembling steps to have his last cup of joyful coffee. His ultimate pleasure must be earned one more time for the last time! Arriving to the paved entrance, he wished that standing still would push time away from him, maybe the end won't come this soon. But that knot residing in his throat made it hard to have such a hope. It was coming, he felt it. Few more steps and he was inside the usual restaurant, his daily jar of thoughts and sorrows. He looked left, at his usual table, but it seemed gloomy. He regrets now always postponing that argument for the other table before the window. But, what's special about it. He went to balcony, hoping that the bar with the sea view has an empty seat. And it was, lucky him. Ordering a rich cup of coffee, he slid into the chair and put his pack of cigarettes on the bar. The memory of his rst cigarette ashed in his mind like crystal. Oh, how close that past is now. He is still young, yet he is leaving soon.
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The waiter came! Wearing that usual robotic smile, he laid the cup of coffee in front of him. It has a rich foam on top! Has it always been like this, or it's his mind playing passion games on him now? Oh, it's close, and getting closer every second. With a trembling hand, he reached his pack of cigarettes, opened it roughly, and with his sweaty ngers he tried hardly to pick a cigarette out of the pack. At that moment, a lady came in, looked around until her eyes had their rest at his side. The smile on her face was taken away with a frown. She called the waiter pointing her ngers toward him. The waiter went to his chair, put a hand on his shoulder and asked him about the reason he slept. It was a full minute before everyone realized the truth. The end has came, taking his life away and leaving that rich cup of coffee untouched... *****

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C H A P T E R 14

What Do We Know
Right there, around the corner, wind raves a paper, ipping it in a circular movement. Small rocks tumble along with the ow of that old dusty road. The roads endless rounds carry the sight and twist it with every corner. Right there, around the next corner, that tree stands still. Surviving every shimmering season, surviving every dry in-existence of rain. Yet, it falls for the brown episode of time that absorbs the green out of every vain. A dried leaf falls down silently, surrendering and laying down peacefully. Life ends. Another leaf falls, neighboring its precedent. The mother tree can do nothing to save its urried children. Life cannot get any harder. How can a tear drop out of inanimate? People can cry, shout, yell, and mourn. How can a tree mourn its loss? How can a tree wail the loss of its falling children? But, what do we know? A man knows nothing. Man cannot break into the silence of nature, nor comprehend the agony in stillness. And again, what do we know? We cry, spill tears, and with those tears, we spill our rage and pain out. What would a tree spill? Is it possible that these leaves are not the children? Is it possible that these leaves are what a tree would shed in a moment of sorrow? Trembling footsteps, barely heard, barely moving, approach from that other corner. Hesitant and reluctant that young man disturbs the stillness of nature, moves toward the tree. Touches the aging stem, goes around it, looking for something in particular. There is it, a trembled carving of a heart with two letters inside. At the sight of this heart, the young man drops to his knees, puts his hands on the nearly erased heart, and cries. He cries so hard, and so loud that as if the wind blows were in harmony with his screams. Could it be that this tree has witnessed a
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broken love tragedy? Or could it be that it has witnessed the arrogance of a child who grew up in age and pretended to grow up in value so he never came back for the shade of this old tree? Or could it be that it missed the sweat of a wounded runaway who craved for shelter under her branches? Could this silence be resembling the loss of any of them? What do we know! What do we know! *****

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Thats it...

My Thanks...

My thanks go to all my friends who encouraged and pushed me forward to write increasingly. My thanks go to all my social networks friends who were a true support to me. My thanks go to all the incidents I encountered and shaped the person I am now. My thanks go to Life that gave me all the experience I needed to write the content of this book. *****

I thank God for all the success & failure, all the ups & downs, and for giving me the grace of a stable mind. *****

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