I was young.
I guess I was in middle school.
In front of the old family house was sand.
I normally didn’t play in it, because mama used to shout at me.

But that day, I sat there and pretended to play by myself because I was alone.
My neighbors weren’t talking to me that day.
At the time my neighbors were my group of friends: Manara, Nesma, and Shaimaa.
They were sisters.
They used to always sing “Home Sweet Home” in front of their house.
They used to always tell me about their old house.
The one full of grape and pomegranate gardens.
The moment their father appeared on their street
While we’re sitting on their front steps,
They’d throw themselves at him and leave me alone.
And I’d sit alone, wondering,
Where is baba?

They insisted on asking me this stupid question that I didn’t know how to answer:
“How are you able to live without having any siblings?”
They always made me feel that I’m not like them.

Anyway, that day I was sitting alone in the sand.
Then I noticed Manara and her sisters coming towards me with Umaima, our friend.
She’s the cousin of Hassan the carpenter who owns the workshop next door.
They circled me and kept calling me names.
“We don’t pass by on our way to school in the morning,
Because you’re slow and take forever to get ready.”
“Why do you come over and stay for long?”,
“You call for us at the top of your lungs in the middle of the street.
Don’t you know that this is inappropriate?”
One of them used to grab me by the hair all the time;
Shaimaa, I think it was Shaimaa.
She used to threaten and bully me and say,
“Don’t come over again. We don’t like you!
You’re alone and have no siblings.
Good, you deserve not to have any!”

They humiliated and shamed me.
I wanted someone to come out of our house and save me.
I didn’t know how to respond.
I just silently watched myself.
I couldn’t even tell them that I call for them from the street,
Because their building was always dark,
And I was scared to go up to their apartment.
I remember very well that Manara stopped them and said,
“That’s enough girls, she has no siblings.
Enough, just leave her alone!”

I couldn’t defend myself.
I can’t remember if I cried at the time or not.
But I remember that I felt ashamed and broken.
I still feel that very same bitterness to this day
Whenever I’m in a situation where accusations are being made at me.

After they left,
Even though no one on our street saw the humiliation party,
I was too embarrassed to move.
Too embarrassed to go back home, for someone might see the humiliation on my face.
I stayed in the sand for hours,
Until mama called on me to go to bed, just like every day.

Maybe that’s when I started hating gatherings.
I know that I don’t have any siblings.
No one has my back.
And I don’t have my home sweet home.

When I got older,
I started feeling like I was surrounded by a thousand Manaras, Umaimas, Nesmas, and Shaimaas.
In every place I’ve been to: gatherings and outings.
Each party wants to side with the party they care about.
I’ve been lonely for a long time ago.
I’m not used to my phone ringing, or long phone calls, or a long contact list.
Because nobody calls, and I have no one to call.
I was always there, alone, in that strange green robe.
Always by myself, with my cat, or my duck,
Or any goddamn thing that I made up.
It didn’t even have to be real.