Short story about emigration
First thing, this is not a diary, just a little part of our own stories. We are Sofia Rossi and Yael Hollinsworth, and we are writing this at a cafe in front of Central Park.
I´m Sofia from Italy. I´m very girly and funny I think. I play violin and I sing often. I like to study and it is very important to me. We lived very happy in Italy, until the Tripolin war started and we had to leave the country with my mom and two little sisters, but my brother and dad needed to be at war because it was their responsibility. I was very scared because of it and we almost died. Now me and my family are in New York and everything is okay, but we still miss our home country.
This is Yael. I was born in Syria, in the middle of the war. My dad is an American soldier, and my mum was Syrian, I´m saying was because now she is dead. I use to live in Damasco with my mom after my dad left us for go back home with her real family. In my country I was happy. I use to study biology and play cello. But, the war started in Damasco, and the school was bombarded when we were inside. During that period my mom died, so I decided to take the first plane out of the country. That´s the reason of why I´m in New York.
These are the reasons that pushed us to leave our countries for try to start again in New York. We met one sunny day, when we were walking down 2nd avenue. Yael was distracted and she throw me on a coffee when she crashed against me. She was really sorry, and she offered to buy a new T-shirt for me. I refuse the offer but Yael insisted that she had to give me something, so I suggested to go for a coffee.
So we went to a coffee near Central Park, and there we started to know each other. First, we weren´t able to support each other, but at the end we realized that we have lots of things in common.
In one moment, I asked Yael how much time she has been in the city, and she told me that this was the second week, and that she was trying to find a job. So I took her to my house with me, and I asked my mom If she could help Yael finding a job. My mom called her boss, and three days later, Yael was working with my mom at a restaurant in Soho.
I was proud of myself when I helped Yael to start again out of her country, because I know what was leaving your country for start again in a new place with other culture and a different language. But for Yael was more difficult because now she is alone, her mum is dead and she doesn´t know where is her dad.
NOW...
During the first weeks, Yael was like a normal girl, she went to work on time, she found a new flat in Brooklyn, and she seemed to be happy again, but one day she changed.
The second Tuesday of April she went late to work, and when she appeared, her hair was green. I asked her why she changed her colour hair, she just told me that we can´t talk anymore, and then she just left the job, and she went outside of the local. Something was wrong, I knew it.
I walked down the second avenue following Yael. Then she went inside the subway, and she waited until a man appeared, he gave Yael a passport and then, he disappeared. It was a false passport, I was sure. But why did she need it? If she needed a false passport, she had a problem with the law, but, what problem?
I wanted to know what is happening, so I went to ask her where she was going. When she saw me she started to run away and she looked terrified. I followed her and I almost reached her, but she was so fast. ”Yael, can we talk?” I shouted. She didn´t answer anything, she just continued running and a few seconds later she disappeared.
I ran behind her and I went up, in to the street. I couldn’t see her, so I went inside the first street shouting her name, but I didn’t saw her, so I went around the whole streets but, It looked like if Yael had disappeared.
At the same time, in an apartment in Brookline…
I have to leave the city, I have to leave my new home. I don’t want, but I have. I take only one bag with me with the most important stuff. I also carry with me the false passport, a bottle of vodka and a gun. I bought an air ticket to Argentina, for the next flight, and I left the house. I stopped a taxi in the middle of the avenue, and I asked him to take me to the airport.
I started to think that everything was going to be fine. I was wrong. In the middle of the street two man stopped the taxi, shouting and aiming us with guns. One kept the gun on the driver’s head, and the other one took me out of the taxi. I thought I was going to die that day, I was sure. And again, I was wrong
At the same time in Manhattan…
I have registered the whole streets in Manhattan, Brookline, and the Bronx, and I couldn’t find her. It seemed that the earth has ate my friend. I was really worried for her. I was thinking if i should call the police, but, maybe, If I call them maybe she will be in trouble.
An hour later…
I’ got headache. I think I’m in a little room. There are no windows, and one of the walls is made of bars. Wait. One wall is made of bars!! I’m in jail!! Why I’m in jail, I can’t understand it.
One of the police officers comes to take me to the interrogation room, the captain wants to talk with me. “Do you know why you are here?” He asks. “No·”. “You are here because you are accused of being a terrorist.”. “What?! A terrorist!! Just because I’m Syrian do I have to be a terrorist?”. We have proves that you are preparing something because you bought a gun and a false passport”. “Yes, I admit that I bought a gun and a passport, but I’m not a terrorist”. “so, can you explain why you have the gun if you are not a terrorist”. “Oh come on, everyone can have guns here and there is no problem, but you know, just because I’m from a country where is a war, I have to be a terrorist. “. “ No, it doesn’t work like that…”. “Shut up! I want to make a phone call”.
The police officer doesn’t want to give me the phone, but he has, he is obligated because in my rights is written that I can make one phone call. So he goes out of the room and he comes back with an old phone. “You have three minutes” he says.
I dial Sofia’s number as fast as I can, and I wait until she answers. “ Yes?” she says. “ Sofia, this is Yael, I need you, I need you to help me”. “What’s happening?”. “ Sofia, I’m in jail”. “ What?! What are you doing in jail?”. “ I don’t know, that’s why I’m calling you”. “ Ok, don’t be worried, I go there in a half of hour”. “ Thanks”. She hung up the phone and I can’t hear her anymore.
One second later in Manhattan…
Yael is in jail. Fine. What the hell Yael is doing in jail? I don’t really know it, the only thing that I know is that I have to fix this. The first thing, Is calling a lawyer. The second one… I don’t really know it.
I call Andrew, the best lawyer in New York, and he says that he will help Yael. We meet up in a half hour in the door of the 12rd police station, so I have to hurry.
I run as fast I can for catch the subway to the police station, but I’m late. I think I’m going to have to go walking. I look what time is. If I don’t hurry I’m going to be late. I run in the middle of the streets pushing people and, some of them fall on the floor, but I don’t care, I have to take Yael out of jail.
I arrive to the police station, but I can’t see Andrew. one of the policemen that are outside says that the lawyer is inside talking with the captain. I go upstairs running, and when I reach the correct floor, I can see Andrew talking with the captain. Yael is by their side, listening, looking down. Is seems that the lawyer and the captain are arguing. I wait for them, but I think that these times I’m not going to be able to save Yael. I’m starting to be afraid for her. Maybe this time, Andrew is not going to be able to help her, and she will have to stay many years between bars.
But for my surprise, the captain takes of the police handcuffs that are around Yael’s hands, and he gives Yael permission for go home, but with one condition. She has to leave the country in one month and she could never come back.
One month later at the airport…
I can’t believe it, but today is the day. Today Yael is leaving the country. Maybe today is the last time that I’m going to see her. I’m sad, but, I think this is better than jail. We said that in the future I will go to visit her to Argentina, and I hope that maybe one day I’m going to be able to go, or maybe not. Who knows.
We say goodbye to each other, and, we cry a lot, but we knew that this was going to happen. And, the last memory that I have of Yael is seeing her back and her green hair when she went up in the plane.
Collaborative writing by: Lena og Carla.
I´m Sofia from Italy. I´m very girly and funny I think. I play violin and I sing often. I like to study and it is very important to me. We lived very happy in Italy, until the Tripolin war started and we had to leave the country with my mom and two little sisters, but my brother and dad needed to be at war because it was their responsibility. I was very scared because of it and we almost died. Now me and my family are in New York and everything is okay, but we still miss our home country.
This is Yael. I was born in Syria, in the middle of the war. My dad is an American soldier, and my mum was Syrian, I´m saying was because now she is dead. I use to live in Damasco with my mom after my dad left us for go back home with her real family. In my country I was happy. I use to study biology and play cello. But, the war started in Damasco, and the school was bombarded when we were inside. During that period my mom died, so I decided to take the first plane out of the country. That´s the reason of why I´m in New York.
These are the reasons that pushed us to leave our countries for try to start again in New York. We met one sunny day, when we were walking down 2nd avenue. Yael was distracted and she throw me on a coffee when she crashed against me. She was really sorry, and she offered to buy a new T-shirt for me. I refuse the offer but Yael insisted that she had to give me something, so I suggested to go for a coffee.
So we went to a coffee near Central Park, and there we started to know each other. First, we weren´t able to support each other, but at the end we realized that we have lots of things in common.
In one moment, I asked Yael how much time she has been in the city, and she told me that this was the second week, and that she was trying to find a job. So I took her to my house with me, and I asked my mom If she could help Yael finding a job. My mom called her boss, and three days later, Yael was working with my mom at a restaurant in Soho.
I was proud of myself when I helped Yael to start again out of her country, because I know what was leaving your country for start again in a new place with other culture and a different language. But for Yael was more difficult because now she is alone, her mum is dead and she doesn´t know where is her dad.
NOW...
During the first weeks, Yael was like a normal girl, she went to work on time, she found a new flat in Brooklyn, and she seemed to be happy again, but one day she changed.
The second Tuesday of April she went late to work, and when she appeared, her hair was green. I asked her why she changed her colour hair, she just told me that we can´t talk anymore, and then she just left the job, and she went outside of the local. Something was wrong, I knew it.
I walked down the second avenue following Yael. Then she went inside the subway, and she waited until a man appeared, he gave Yael a passport and then, he disappeared. It was a false passport, I was sure. But why did she need it? If she needed a false passport, she had a problem with the law, but, what problem?
I wanted to know what is happening, so I went to ask her where she was going. When she saw me she started to run away and she looked terrified. I followed her and I almost reached her, but she was so fast. ”Yael, can we talk?” I shouted. She didn´t answer anything, she just continued running and a few seconds later she disappeared.
I ran behind her and I went up, in to the street. I couldn’t see her, so I went inside the first street shouting her name, but I didn’t saw her, so I went around the whole streets but, It looked like if Yael had disappeared.
At the same time, in an apartment in Brookline…
I have to leave the city, I have to leave my new home. I don’t want, but I have. I take only one bag with me with the most important stuff. I also carry with me the false passport, a bottle of vodka and a gun. I bought an air ticket to Argentina, for the next flight, and I left the house. I stopped a taxi in the middle of the avenue, and I asked him to take me to the airport.
I started to think that everything was going to be fine. I was wrong. In the middle of the street two man stopped the taxi, shouting and aiming us with guns. One kept the gun on the driver’s head, and the other one took me out of the taxi. I thought I was going to die that day, I was sure. And again, I was wrong
At the same time in Manhattan…
I have registered the whole streets in Manhattan, Brookline, and the Bronx, and I couldn’t find her. It seemed that the earth has ate my friend. I was really worried for her. I was thinking if i should call the police, but, maybe, If I call them maybe she will be in trouble.
An hour later…
I’ got headache. I think I’m in a little room. There are no windows, and one of the walls is made of bars. Wait. One wall is made of bars!! I’m in jail!! Why I’m in jail, I can’t understand it.
One of the police officers comes to take me to the interrogation room, the captain wants to talk with me. “Do you know why you are here?” He asks. “No·”. “You are here because you are accused of being a terrorist.”. “What?! A terrorist!! Just because I’m Syrian do I have to be a terrorist?”. We have proves that you are preparing something because you bought a gun and a false passport”. “Yes, I admit that I bought a gun and a passport, but I’m not a terrorist”. “so, can you explain why you have the gun if you are not a terrorist”. “Oh come on, everyone can have guns here and there is no problem, but you know, just because I’m from a country where is a war, I have to be a terrorist. “. “ No, it doesn’t work like that…”. “Shut up! I want to make a phone call”.
The police officer doesn’t want to give me the phone, but he has, he is obligated because in my rights is written that I can make one phone call. So he goes out of the room and he comes back with an old phone. “You have three minutes” he says.
I dial Sofia’s number as fast as I can, and I wait until she answers. “ Yes?” she says. “ Sofia, this is Yael, I need you, I need you to help me”. “What’s happening?”. “ Sofia, I’m in jail”. “ What?! What are you doing in jail?”. “ I don’t know, that’s why I’m calling you”. “ Ok, don’t be worried, I go there in a half of hour”. “ Thanks”. She hung up the phone and I can’t hear her anymore.
One second later in Manhattan…
Yael is in jail. Fine. What the hell Yael is doing in jail? I don’t really know it, the only thing that I know is that I have to fix this. The first thing, Is calling a lawyer. The second one… I don’t really know it.
I call Andrew, the best lawyer in New York, and he says that he will help Yael. We meet up in a half hour in the door of the 12rd police station, so I have to hurry.
I run as fast I can for catch the subway to the police station, but I’m late. I think I’m going to have to go walking. I look what time is. If I don’t hurry I’m going to be late. I run in the middle of the streets pushing people and, some of them fall on the floor, but I don’t care, I have to take Yael out of jail.
I arrive to the police station, but I can’t see Andrew. one of the policemen that are outside says that the lawyer is inside talking with the captain. I go upstairs running, and when I reach the correct floor, I can see Andrew talking with the captain. Yael is by their side, listening, looking down. Is seems that the lawyer and the captain are arguing. I wait for them, but I think that these times I’m not going to be able to save Yael. I’m starting to be afraid for her. Maybe this time, Andrew is not going to be able to help her, and she will have to stay many years between bars.
But for my surprise, the captain takes of the police handcuffs that are around Yael’s hands, and he gives Yael permission for go home, but with one condition. She has to leave the country in one month and she could never come back.
One month later at the airport…
I can’t believe it, but today is the day. Today Yael is leaving the country. Maybe today is the last time that I’m going to see her. I’m sad, but, I think this is better than jail. We said that in the future I will go to visit her to Argentina, and I hope that maybe one day I’m going to be able to go, or maybe not. Who knows.
We say goodbye to each other, and, we cry a lot, but we knew that this was going to happen. And, the last memory that I have of Yael is seeing her back and her green hair when she went up in the plane.
Collaborative writing by: Lena og Carla.