Life

The Balloon: A Symbol of Hope and Resilience in the Midst of Despair

  The air was filled with ruins, crumbled walls, and the scent of gunpowder.
  In the midst of an urban village, the size of a football field, a church became the savior. Dinas, with her disheveled yellow curly hair draping over her thin shoulders, crouched in a corner of the church, facing the open space.
  Dinas’ sudden appearance here was a mystery. She occasionally glanced up, blinking her blue eyes as if searching for answers.
  Fear had imprisoned people within the church. All eyes were fixed upon the open space in front, like an opera house stage, anticipating the day when God would come to their rescue.
  Within the gray dust-filled air, a pulsing spirit seemed to glide slowly towards the clearing, drawing near.
  ”Look! It’s a balloon!” someone exclaimed.
  ”Where? Show me!” Everyone leaned out, scanning the sky so as not to miss a thing.
  Although it was an ordinary cartoon balloon, it held a special significance now, as it soared with long, colorful streamers trailing behind.
  The balloon drew closer and closer, until the vibrant streamers grazed Dinas on the edge of the open space. Instinctively, she reached out to grasp it but missed, and the balloon drifted away into the distance.
  ”Hurry, Dinas!” cried a man hiding in the house.
  ”It’s getting away, catch it quickly!” shouted others, though no one ventured out.
  Amidst the clamor, Dinas abruptly stood, only to squat back down from exhaustion.
  ”What are you waiting for?”
  ”Dinas, you coward!”
  With great effort, Dinas rose while clinging to the wall. By this time, the balloon had reached the center of the open space. She strained her slender arms, stretching them out like compass needles. They curved, but the balloon had already surpassed her reach, gently floating beyond the fence.
  ”Oh, what a shame!”
  ”Yes, if only I had caught it earlier!”
  Voices of disappointment filled the air.
  Dinas walked to the corner, lowering her head until it sank into her frail shoulders. She yearned for the comfort her parents would have provided—holding her in their arms, offering soothing words. Lost in longing for her family, she became immersed in her own thoughts.
  ”Look! The balloon has returned!”
  ”Dinas, Dinas, hurry, catch it!”
  Excitement once again echoed through the voices of the people.
  Dinas looked up, witnessing the balloon now floating towards the church from beyond the fence.
  She reminisced about her sixth birthday when her parents had bestowed upon her a vibrant bunch of balloons. Just as she blew out the candles, tragedy struck her home with a thundering explosion. Saved from harm’s way by her parents’ embrace, she watched as they lay in a pool of blood.
  Dinas dashed towards the balloon, recognizing it as a heavenly gift from her parents. Today, she would commemorate her seventh birthday.
  In the mossy clearing, Dinas jumped and fell, fell and jumped again. The shouts of the people accompanied Dinas’ leaps. However, every time she neared capturing the balloon, the wind carried it away once more. Exhausted, Dinas finally crumpled onto the ground, despairingly witnessing the balloon sailing beyond the church’s entrance. Frustrated, she punched the ground.
  ”Quick, grab it!”
  The people shouted with enthusiasm once more.
  Dinas glanced up and observed the priest stepping out of the church, snatching the balloon just before it escaped.
  Relief washed over the crowd like a long-awaited exhale.
  The priest held the balloon, gently lifting Dinas and placing it into her tearful grasp.
  Dinas, brimming with joy, gleefully headed to the center of the clearing, clutching the balloon’s ribbon.
  The crowd erupted into warm applause, as if they had achieved a monumental victory, their ovation persisting for a while.
  ”Bang!” Following a violent explosion, silence blanketed everything once more.
  Dinas collapsed in a pool of blood…

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