The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War Read Free Page A

because I am scared. What if something happens to them? Things always happen in wars. There’s always blood in war paintings, all of them. What if they come home covered in blood?
    The loud sounds come closer and now they sound like a huge crowd of angry people shouting. I can’t make out what they’re saying. I go to the front door and open it to get a closer look. The crowd is still in the distance but they are so loud I can hear them from here. They look like a huge army of ants approaching. In one of William Hogarth’s paintings there is a crowd of people who look like they are protesting as well, he paints the picture with splashes of red to portray the forecast of the bloody war. I would do the same. I see blood coming.
    Yasmine, Tariq and Khalid leave. I walk them to the door and hope I don’t see anything yellow now because that means they won’t come back safe.
    â€˜Want to watch TV with me Adam?’ Isa walks behind me.
    We flip through the TV channels and settle on MBC1, which has an art show. It’s 1:00 p.m. I had lost track of time. Of course, my art show is on repeat at 1:00 p.m.
    The episode today is about the death of art. The TV presenter is talking about how true art of expression and depth has died and simplicity has taken its place. It is disappointing to hear this. Real art should never die if it is real, it is just hidden behind the layers of ignorance. This show is sending the wrong message out to people. So many people are listening to this and believing it.
    â€˜Believe in this?’ Isa asks me.
    â€˜Of course not, real art still exists, some people just want to create new art so they forget about the origins and truth of it.’
    â€˜Very clever of you, I would have never thought that. Why don’t you show me some of your paintings?’
    â€˜I only show mama and Yasmine.’
    â€˜Why don’t you try showing me? I’ll be honest.’
    I don’t know whether I should show him or not. What if he laughs? I only trust mama and Yasmine. He said he’d give me an honest opinion so maybe I should.
    â€˜Don’t tell anyone I showed you okay?’
    I lead him into my room. He doesn’t jump over the threshold so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable with him being here.
    â€˜Wow Adam, there are paintings everywhere, that’s amazing!’
    â€˜Do you like them?’
    â€˜Amazing, I never knew you were this good, I always just saw you go into your room and come out hours later, but I didn’t think you did such good paintings.’
    â€˜Thank you Mr. Isa.’
    â€˜Why do you always paint war?’
    â€˜Because it’s filled with endless painting possibilities, and the range of colours is so wide.’
    â€˜Why don’t you try making sculptures?’
    â€˜I like using colours.’
    â€˜But you’re good with faces.’
    â€˜Thank you Isa…’
    Before I am able to finish my sentence I hear a loud shriek, gun shots and an ambulance siren. I freeze in my place. Yasmine is all I can think about.
    â€˜Yasmine… Yasmine… Yasmine!’
    â€˜Calm down Adam, let’s go out and see what’s going on. Don’t worry it won’t be Yasmine.’
    â€˜I can’t go out, I can’t.’
    I run to the door and open it clumsily, the lock isn’t unlocking. Isa pushes me aside gently and unlocks it. I stretch my neck out of the door to see if I can see what happened. All I can see from here is a group of people with banners marching on, and an ambulance in the far distance. The fear of something happening to my sister burns inside me. My fingers start to tremble and twitch. I back away from the door and sit in the corner of the corridor towards the wall. I grind my teeth trying to ignore all the dark thoughts that start clouding my mind. I can’t see the wall in front of me any more; I can only see grey triangles covering my vision. My body starts rocking