(Final episode)

(1)

The artillery shelling subsides one night, everything in the neighborhood lives, I continue as usual to move from window to window, they call me: "night watchtower", I do not leave the windows of the house at night, for fear of being stormed or raided.

But tonight I see something different, a person walking in the street opposite our house with quick steps, not looking in any direction, I follow him with my gaze until he reaches our building, I run to my mother's room to wake her up, and tell her that a stranger entered the building, there was no electricity on her night, my mother holds the candle in one hand and holds me with the other, we walk with heavy steps towards the hall, we hear knocking on the door in a low voice that is barely heard, from behind the door we ask: "Who"? I can't believe it when I hear the answer, I shouted, "Daddy."

My mother opens the door quickly, I hug him warmly, he kisses me and my mother's head, it has been many months and we have not known anything about him, my mother asks him: Why did he come and the situation is unsafe? I raise the candle slightly, his face looks pale, and he has beads of sweat on him despite the cold weather.

I heard the sound of military jeeps in front of the house, I ran to wake up my mother and father. "Army. Army", and I imagined that the arrest returned to steal my father from us again, but the shock this time was that the arrest of my mother, I stood and I could not comprehend what was happening, how to arrest my mother, my world, my world, my companion and my greatest love

My father is very sick that day, and he cannot find anyone who can get medicine from him, so he ventured and came to the house despite knowing that the occupation soldiers may come at any moment, he stays 4 days between us in which he cannot get out of bed, and I do not leave the windows of the house at all times, I divided my brothers into monitoring teams that exchange roles, and none of us overlooks any movement in the neighborhood, then my father leaves our house, and a wonder to God's destinies, hours later, the occupation soldiers storm again Our.

(2)

The days are heavy again, and the general security situation in the West Bank is taking a new turn, so movement gradually returns after reducing the curfew hours, and the raids also decrease, and then my mother gathers us to tell us that my four brothers will return with my aunt to our house in the village, while Obeida, and Abdul Majeed, our youngest, I, will stay with her in Ramallah.

Then my mother asks me to put the clothes of Abdul Majeed, the youngest of my brothers, in my school bag, and to bring the clothes I need too. She tells me: At Baba.

We leave our house with some lights on to suggest that we are still in it, and this is certainly in cases where the electricity is not cut off, we leave our car in front of the house, and we take another, and after 4 hours we arrive at the house where my father is hiding.

Two days later, I had to go home again, to check on him, especially since my mother is in the last months of pregnancy, my father explains to his 11-year-old daughter the way home, and tells me what to do, the Lord of the worlds bids me farewell with my mother and I and my brother Amjad go out.

I arrive after two hours and I crossed the secondary roads, making sure that the occupation did not break into our house in our absence, I bring some clothes from the house, and carry a medium-sized gas jar, in addition to some things that my mother recommended me to bring, put them in a bag and carry them on my back, and put the gas jar in a large bag and wrap it in some clothes, so that it is not clearly defined, I wait for the sunset to start as my father instructed me, and I sneak out of the house.

(3)

I almost reach my desired destination, but the sound of tanks and armored vehicles surprises me, I feel that my heart is almost coming out of my chest from the intensity of the throbbing, and I think that my death is approaching, me and my brother are on the edge of the street in an almost open place and army tanks are nearby, I do not know what to do, I had to think this time alone, and to act alone, then I think that I almost broke the hand of my brother Amjad and I was holding him from the intensity of my fear for him.

I quickly go back, hide behind a big tree, see an old house with an open iron gate, we run towards it quickly, and I and Amjad sit near the gate on the ground, put the gas jar behind me and hug my bag and put my head on it, take my eyes away from the approaching tanks, and count the seconds until they pass, but the seconds become long hours when the tanks and armored soldiers stop along the street.

The sun goes down and night falls, the sound of tanks gets louder again, it seems that it was a sudden break and now they will continue the march, so I told myself to reassure her, and indeed this was the case, and the tanks and armored soldiers pass, we go out from behind the door, and we run very fast until we reach the house at my mother and father.

I find them in an unenviable state, my mother holds me for a long time crying, I say to my father proudly: I brought the gas jar and what my mother requested, and that I and Amjad were able to hide from the soldiers, I was trying hard for my father and mother to feel proud of me, perhaps this would dispel something of their fear for me, which was obvious, and blame themselves for sending us on a mission that is almost impossible.

(4)

The years after the invasion did not erase everything we lived in it, it remained stuck in us in one way or another, we find it coming out whenever some scenes and memories are repeated, as my father was arrested at that time and stayed in the occupation prisons for 3 and a half years, without charge, without trial and under the ruling of "administrative detention". It was neither normal nor normal, but my mother was able to be a mother and father for us, not forgetting how much she struggled and endured for it, but what happened after was never a thought to our minds before.

It was the eighth of the seventh month of 2007, a beautiful summer night after a family meeting we lived, we had been deprived of it for years, and as usual I am the "night watchtower", I had not slept yet, when I heard the sound of military jeeps in front of the house, I ran to wake up my mother and father. "Army. Army", and I imagined that the arrest returned to steal my father from us again, but the shock this time was that the arrest of my mother, I stood up and I could not comprehend what was happening, how my mother was arrested, my world, my world, my companion and my greatest love.

My father was arguing with the officer, and my mother hugged me and recommended me her usual commandments that I memorize by heart, my father completed his argument with the officer and the female soldier put the handcuffs in my mother's hands, but my mother stood up and said to my father: "Majid is not afraid, Nada Jabal."

(5)

My mother was arrested for 5 months, including 35 days in the Russian Compound investigation, she threatened me and my brothers, and the army stormed our house on the night of my birthday and my mother was then in the investigation, and the interrogator deluded her that I and my father were in the next room, and that my eight brothers were in the house alone, but my mother was really a tall mountain that did not shake, and she said to him: God is with them.

But the occupier cannot imagine what he might do, about a month before my mother's release, my father was arrested, and I, my eight brothers and aunt remained alone, this time I had to be a mother, father and older sister of 17 years, she has to take care of her brothers and follow up the details of her parents' arrest and ask lawyers every day: Is there anything new?

(6)

After these years, I think that my decision was very right, and I am very pleased with it, to write down all my memories, my life as a child and as a young Palestinian woman is very rich in events, I bet that no one lives it in our Arab world, I spent my childhood and adolescence frequenting prisons, and I fear raids, I miss my detained father, and then I play the role of a mother in full after they arrested my mother, and threatened to blow up our house, for the biggest and the scenes are repeated again with my brothers Shatha, Mohammed and Abdul Majeed, who were absent from prisons in the period itself, and I had to live all the details again.

I'm not listing my heroism, I'm just telling you that this is the ordinary life of a Palestinian girl, but what I mentioned here is a small part.

My name is Tasneem Majed Hassan.