I don't usually write sad things. That being said, I recently had the idea of writing an entire story as an exchange of letters between two characters. This is my first attempt at that; and at writing something sad yet meaningful. Enjoy this story of two kids who were just too unlucky.
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
By Aashritha Kilambi
03/15 Ⓛ
To whom it may concern:
My name is Elias Hansen. I am an eleventh grade student at the John Baskerville High School in rural Maine in the United States; sort of in the middle of nowhere. I am in Mr. Latif’s Arabic III class. We got assigned to pen pals earlier today and I was assigned to write to you. I don’t know who you are, where you live, or whether or not you will write back. All I know is that I don’t want to be doing this. If I don’t participate in this program, I’ll have to repeat this class, and I can’t stand this man who claims to be my teacher. I hear that our pen pals come from low-income neighborhoods, and participation in this program gives your parents money for essentials. The sooner you write back, the better it is for both of us.
I apologize for anything that comes off as rudeness in advance. I’m just not very excited to be doing this.
Thanks,
Elias Hansen
17.03 Ⓛ
Elias Hansen:
Salaam-al-aleikum. My name is Inayah Al-Abadi and I live in Al-Bab, Syria, not far from Aleppo. I do not attend school. I assume you, too, are sixteen years of age. My parents taught me to write Arabic. Do you also know Arabic? I do not know how we can communicate in different tongues. I help my mother with chores in the morning, clean up after my five younger brothers in the afternoon, and work with my father in his shoe store at nights. I am sorry you do not want to participate in this program with me. I am doing this for my family. You are right, we receive money from the charity of this program. May I ask why you dislike your Arabic professor? I would give anything to have a teacher, or to attend school. I am sorry you do not like him.
I am excited to hear your response. I hope this letter finds you and your family well.
Many regards,
Inayah Al-Abadi
03/18 Ⓛ
Nice to meet you, Inayah! I can’t believe you responded. Most of my friends didn’t even get their letters stamped by The Linguian (that’s the name of the pen-pal program). I think the letters actually pass through one of The Linguian’s facilities before they get to you. In that period, the letters are translated into whatever language the receiver speaks. I guess that’s why my letters are in English, so yours are probably coming in Arabic. I’m learning Arabic right now; I’m not very good at it, though. Wow! Five siblings. It must be hard for your dad to support all those kids. My family’s a lot smaller than yours. My parents are divorced. My dad lives somewhere in California, which is across the country, and I only see him for two weeks every summer. My mom and I live in a pretty small house. She’s a doctor at a hospital in New York City and is only really home on the weekends. I usually take care of myself, and my grandma lives close by in case I need anything. I don’t like my Arabic teacher because he’s so… involved in my life. Or at least, he tries to be. He tries to be like my father, and it’s annoying. I’m used to being alone. I don’t need someone hovering over me, watching my every move. Oh, and just to clarify, I have nothing against you. I was told that if I didn’t participate in this program, I wouldn’t pass Mr. Latif’s class, and that means I can’t graduate next year. It was actually Mr. Latif who suggested this program to me. I’m doing pretty bad in all my classes, to be honest, but I’m failing his. He’s always helicoptering me about my grades. It’s irritating, frankly. My own parents don’t care this much about my grades. Who is he to care so much?
Let me tell you a little bit about myself. You’re right, I’m sixteen years old. My birthday is September twelfth, and I really enjoy playing soccer. I don’t know if you or your friends play that in Syria, but it’s really fun. My middle name is Timothy, and I really hate it.
You seem like a pretty cool person. I guess this pen-pal thing might not be so bad.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Elias Hansen
20.03 Ⓛ
Elias! It is so lovely to hear that you are finally excited about the program. I, too, am excited to participate in it with you. I did not know that these letters got translated in a facility. I simply thought you spoke very good Arabic.
Responding to your question, I don’t have friends to play soccer with. It is a popular sport for boys, but girls, especially girls that live in slums like me, don’t have time. I don’t really have “hobbies”, but I do like singing. When I’m doing chores, or working, I sing. I find it relaxing. That is, until, some of the boys in the neighborhood tell me to shut up.
I will tell you about myself. My eldest youngest brother is six years younger than me. I was born on the seventh of May. My favorite color is green. What is yours?
I wonder where the facility is that translates these letters for us. Yesterday they sent my father our first cheque of 300 SYP. I would like to thank them in person. Let me know if you have an idea as to where it is. I am sure they are somewhere in Al-Bab. I recognize the kind of paper they used for the envelope. My neighbor’s aunt makes it in her shop.
Regarding your teacher, I am sorry he makes you feel that way. I know what it feels like to have a lack of privacy. I live with five younger brothers and don’t have my own room. I must say, though, that it seems as if he cares about you very much. Try talking with him about the way that you feel if you are comfortable with it. I feel that his intentions are good.
I am sorry about your parents. I cannot imagine my father living across the street, let alone across the country. I am very shocked that your mother was able to pursue medicine! I would have loved to become a doctor. Perhaps not in this life.
I would love to hear more about high school. I do not think I can get an education anytime soon and would love to live out my missed experiences through you.
If we can get in real contact, I would love to introduce you to my family. My parents are extremely grateful for you. It is because of you that my father was able to eat dinner with us for the first time since before my eldest younger brother was born. We talked and laughed and prayed together after so many long years. I cannot thank you enough.
Respond soon, Elias. I enjoy your company. It makes me feel like I am not so alone.
Much appreciated,
Inayah
03/22 Ⓛ
How’s everything, Inayah? I’m really happy to hear that your family got their well-deserved payment. Mr. Latif is actually really happy that I got involved in the pen-pal program. It might sound weird to you, but he assigned me specifically to you for the pen-pal program. I’m glad he did, too; some of my friends’ letters haven’t even been delivered and they probably won’t get the credits from the program.
I think it’s insane that you can’t go to school or pursue your dreams of becoming a doctor. High school isn’t all that great; I guess it’s nice to be surrounded by people you can relate to, and some teachers are pretty cool. I bet it’s a lot better in Syria than it is here… at least, for the people who can go to school. But I feel like you’d make one hell of a doctor. You should try to go to school. Tell your dad how you feel. Maybe he’d let you, and your mom could go to work instead. I hope you have a much better experience than I do.
Regarding the facility, I actually did a little research, and it turns out that you were right! There is a Linguian facility that translates and sends letters to Syrian pen-pal recipients. Not only that; they’re located only about fifty kilometers away from your neighborhood in Al-Bab. Your hunch about the paper turned out to be correct.
I’d love to see you sometime in person. Maybe once I graduate and get some sort of job. Highly unlikely, seeing as my grades suck. We’ll figure something out, I’m sure.
Tell your father he has nothing to be grateful for. It’s my pleasure helping him out. Also, my favorite color is yellow.
Regards,
Elias
23.03 Ⓛ
Hello, Elias. I hope my letter finds you well. I took your advice this time and asked my father if I could go to school. He was completely against it. He said that if I went to school and my mother went to work, there would be no one to take care of my brothers. He seemed shocked that I even brought up the topic because I have never considered going to school before. I must put my family first.
I would love to visit you in Maine, but it seems as though I cannot. I gave my father your letter and asked him how we could meet. He explained that in order for me to leave Syria, I needed to get a passport. He then explained to me that we cannot afford to get a passport. I was very disheartened to hear this. Is there any way you could come to Al-Bab instead? You could teach me English and I could help you with your Arabic.
I believe that you can get a job. You say you play soccer, yes? I think that if you practiced hard enough, you could become a professional soccer player. I feel you have it in you.
Thank you so much for finding the facility for me! I asked our daily postman where he gets your letters from, and he told me he didn’t know. Still, I am determined to find the facility so I can thank them for their charity. We received our second payment earlier today. This time it was 450 SYP in cash. We spent what we needed on essentials and saved the rest.
I ask you to not rely on The Linguian’s program to help you graduate high school. Use it to your benefit, and I am always glad to help, but I still feel that you should work hard in school. I believe you can do it. Maybe try to study with your friends there.
Write back soon,
Inayah
03/26 Ⓛ
Hey, Inayah. I apologize for the late response. I also apologize for my behavior. I shouldn’t have said I was glad I got assigned to you for the credits. Frankly, I’m glad I got assigned to you because you seem like a great friend. Better than any of my other friends at school. You give great advice and you’re genuine. Those are qualities that not many people value nowadays.
I wanted to say thank you for your belief in me. So far, only you and Mr. Latif claimed to “believe in me”. I don’t know how much Mr. Latif meant it; but I can tell you mean it. I’ve never even heard those words from my mother. So it’s safe to say they mean a lot to me coming from someone I’ve only known for about a week and a half.
I’m so sorry that your dad said you couldn’t go to school. It’s not fair that someone like you, who wants to get an education so badly, can’t get one. I guess the world is just mean like that.
I hope you find success in finding The Linguian facility. I did a little more research, and supposedly the The Linguian stamp, the little “L” with a circle around it, means that the letter was sent through to the other person. Whenever I send my letter to the facility, wherever it is, a few hours later, I get a stamp back in the mail that’s supposed to mean my letter got through to the facility, and now just needs to get to the corresponding facility in Syria. I’m pretty sure that’s how it works for you, too. I actually don’t know much about the program; only that they have facilities every 100 miles in every country around the world, and that they offer graduation credits to students in first-world countries and charity runs for students in third-world countries. The whole thing seems a little bit sketchy, but I won’t say anything about it because I know they’ve been helping you and your family. They’ve been helping me, too. Mr. Latif says that if I keep this up, I’ll be able to graduate.
Speaking of whom, after reading your advice, he doesn’t seem as irritating anymore. He kind of seems nice, actually, like a father figure. More of a father figure than I’ll ever have, anyway. I just found out that my dad gave up all custody of me. I don’t even get to see him during the summers anymore. My mom says it’s good riddance; I guess I agree to some extent. He’s still my dad, after all. It’d be nice to see him once in a while. Now I can only really see him once I turn eighteen, or call him if I end up getting his phone number. Your dad seems to care a lot about you and your siblings. He works really hard, day and night, so you guys can eat. That’s more than what my dad has to say for himself.
I hope to hear from you soon!
Elias
03/28 Ⓛ
Hey Inayah! I was just writing because I haven’t heard from you after that letter I sent two days ago. I got my stamp back in the mail, which means my letter got sent. Is everything alright with you at home? I don’t want to rush you; write back on your own time.
Awaiting your response,
Elias
P.S.- I really do love soccer.
03/31 Ⓛ
Inayah, I’m getting pretty worried about you. I’m getting my stamps but not your letter. I asked Mr. Latif about it and he said that there’s nothing he could do. If the stamp was sent, it means everything on the transaction end is complete. Are you not writing back on purpose? Was it something I said? I’m really sorry if I said anything you didn’t like. Just please write back so I know you’re okay.
Your friend,
Elias
02.04 Ⓛ
Elias, my apologies for not writing back sooner. There has been a crisis in our neighborhood. We were attacked a few weeks back by local terrorists coming from either side of my country. I lost my brother in those attacks.
While I wanted very much to write back to you, I was not allowed to. The people who attacked us were extremely obsessed with finding your letters that I received, and found them in my room. I believe they thought I was writing to you so you may give me a passport and I may run away to your country, which is not my intention at all. I tried explaining to them, and out of rage, they shot and killed my brother. They also destroyed some of the houses in my neighborhood. Those of us who survived are currently staying in a refugee camp. I was not given any writing utensils till it was safe to begin sending letters again without them getting intercepted by the attackers.
I didn’t know that I was your friend. I have never had time for friends before. I am greatly honored. Forgive me, for I cannot do anything with you to celebrate our friendship in this situation.
I have been receiving your stamps, yes. I did not think anything of them before you mentioned that they were receipt conformations. Thank you for telling me.
You have never said anything to hurt me, my friend. I worry for you very much. I am glad you like soccer. You should work hard on that aspect of you. Live out your dreams for me.
I promise I will write back to you sooner. Forgive me if I troubled you.
Your friend,
Inayah
04/03 Ⓛ
I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. I’m so sorry about your brother. That must be horrible.
I can’t believe they killed him because of my letters. Because they thought you were going to escape your home. This is because of me. I can’t say sorry enough.
Please hide my letters from now on. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. I’m going to tell Mr. Latif right away. I’ll try and send you and your neighbors some money through The Linguian. I hope $3000 USD is enough for everyone there. I’ve put the money in cash in the envelope with this letter.
I really hope The Linguian’s network is secure. You need someone outside of your country that you can rely on. I hope that person is me.
There’s no need to celebrate friendship. Just remember that I'm here for you and I know you’ll be there for me. Friendship is not a give-take reciprocity. It’s a union.
I’ll get back to you as soon as I can once I send the money. Please let me know if and when you receive it.
Much love,
Elias
05.04 Ⓛ
I hid all of your letters in a place where no one will find them. I received your money promptly last night. It was more than enough for all of us… those of us left, at least. Many people were arrested and taken to somewhere we don’t know. I see you dropped a small charm in the envelope with your letter as well. A green leaf made of glass. It is beautiful and I will cherish it forever. Green is my favorite color.
I believe The Linguian’s network is secure. No one knows the location of the facilities. I have asked multiple people and no one has told me anything. I understand if they would like to keep their locations confidential at this moment. But, I do not understand why they would not send aid to the families who were attacked in my village. We have not received any payments as of late. Perhaps the terrorists intercepted the payments to take it for themselves. Or maybe the facility in Al-Bab knows of the situation we face here and chose not to send the payments until the situation cleared up.
Did you ask your Arabic professor if The Linguian could send my neighbors and I help? Your heart is in a good place, but there are so many neighboring towns that need help. If The Linguian is truly about charity, they would send help to everyone… not just people like me who are in the pen-pal program. They would send medical aid and peacekeeping organization representatives to help us escape this mess. I would like to get in contact with the Al-Bab facility. Please ask Mr. Latif if this is possible.
I await your response,
Inayah
04/06 Ⓛ
I’m so happy the money was helpful. I’m glad you liked the charm, too. It’s part of my charm collection (I’ve had one since I was a kid). That was the only green one I could find. I’m glad it’s with you now.
I talked to Mr. Latif today at school. He said that he tried to get in contact with someone from The Linguian via his supervisor. The supervisor talked to the director of the pen-pal program for the state of Maine. The director managed to get in touch with someone from the Linguian, but the person refused to share their name or the location of the Maine facility.
It’s so weird that they haven’t sent your family the payment yet. Regardless of the situation, the payment is part of their contract. Mr. Latif says he admires my curiosity; no one’s ever tried to find the location of the facilities before us. Apparently, students typically just complete the total number of hours required for the program and cut complete contact with their pen pals after that. I find that a bit weird and disrespectful.
OH! I took your advice again and started studying in a group with some of my other friends. My grades have slowly but steadily improved since then. It’s the first time I’ve really been proud of myself. I hope you’re proud of me, too.
I’ve been practicing my soccer skills lately. My gym coach says I’ve been getting really good. He said that at this rate, if I keep my grades up, I could get a soccer scholarship. I might actually go to college!
Have the terrorists left you guys alone yet? How is the rest of your family doing? If you ever need any more cash, let me know.
My best regards,
Elias
08.04 Ⓛ
Congratulations Elias! I am very proud of you. I told you that you could do it.
The terrorists left us yesterday… not before they killed the rest of my family. They left me because they knew I couldn’t support myself financially without my father’s shop. I don’t know what I will do without my family. They were my whole world. I miss them more than anything.
I received another cheque from The Linguian last night. I tore it up and burned it. I didn’t even check to see how much money they wrote it for. They didn’t do anything for my family when our lives were being threatened. They sent no help. Now, after they are all dead, they think money can help me. I do not need their money. They do not know what it is like to bury seven people whom you have known your entire life.
But, I must thank The Linguian, regardless of what they have not done. They introduced me to you, a boy with a heart. I will find you, Elias, and then I will forget about The Linguian.
I also find it odd that no one before us has questioned the genuinity of this program. This level of discreteness they maintain is unnatural.
I hope you will not cut me out of your life like the others. You are my only friend and I could not imagine the rest of my life without you. I must thank you for everything you have done.
I am to be transported to an orphanage tomorrow morning for the remainder of my childhood. I may not be able to send you many letters until I get settled in. Once that happens, I will begin writing to you again.
Your good friend,
Inayah
04/12 Ⓛ
I’ll be waiting for you here, Inayah. Let me know how everything goes. I have some news to share as well.
My mother called me yesterday. She told me that she will not be coming home anymore. She said she needed some time away from her responsibilities. She told me that my dad would watch me for a few months. When I called him, he told me my mother was lying and that he legally doesn’t have anything to do with me anymore. I didn’t know what to do, so I talked to Mr. Latif. And do you know what he did? He filled out the papers to legally adopt me. Can you believe that? The man I hated in the beginning of all this, the man I thought was trying too hard to be a father figure in my life, is now actually my father. Thanks to you, Inayah.
I also found out something else. Apparently Khalid (that’s what I call Mr. Latif now) is from Syria as well, and his home town is near Al-Bab. I thought that was really cool.
I got the soccer scholarship, Inayah! I never thought I could do it. Now I have to fill out a bunch of paperwork to confirm the early admission. I can’t believe this is happening. I already told Khalid, and now I’m telling you.
There’s one more thing I need to tell you. Apparently The Linguian has a habit of not sending payments for a period of time. I asked one of my friends whose cousin is the underprivileged party (he lives in rural India). They do that to keep you in the program, waiting for your money. Isn’t that awful? As soon as you get settled in your new home, Khalid and I are going to visit you in Syria. Then we’ll get to the bottom of this crap and find out what The Linguian’s deal is. You can move here with us, and Khalid could teach you English. You could pursue medicine with no one to stop you. We could both finally live out our dreams. Just hold on a little longer.
Yours truly,
Elias
23.04 Ⓛ
I am finally able to respond to your letter! I am so glad to hear that you have been adopted. I am happy that I was able to help you find a guardian who will care for you and help you.
I have settled into the orphanage. There are many others like me here. I have met a girl who lost her mother in the same attacks. She is kind, and we talk to each other, but I doubt that I will ever find a friend like you. It is nice to have someone I can relate to here, though I miss my family dearly. I’m sure you understand.
Khalid Latif… I don’t recall that name from my town. It is very kind of him to try and help me. Come to Syria at the earliest. Even if I have to walk across the country, I must meet you at least once.
You say that many poor children like me are victims of their profit; justice must be served to them. Justice must be served to my family. Justice must be served to all these children who lost their parents and parents who lost their children because a facility who claims to provide help to us left us in a time of need. I will find The Linguian facility here, and I will find out why they did not help my family.
Be safe. I hope to see you soon.
Inayah
30.04
Elias, I know you have not yet gotten a chance to respond to my previous letter, but I could not wait any longer. I have found The Linguian facility in Al-Bab.
When the mailman came to deliver my stamp at the orphanage last week, I followed him secretly. Thankfully, no one saw me. He drove back to the post office and I sat in his truck. When he wasn’t looking, I ran inside the post office and waited for anything that remotely resembled The Linguian to show up. No one thought anything of me because after the attacks, many orphans like myself have been in and around the post office, trying to get in contact with any relatives.
Finally, he stepped into the office. He looked ordinary… except for the brooch he had on his pant pocket, almost completely but not fully hidden by his shirt. The circled L symbol.
As he collected his letters and left the office, I followed him and sat in his truck. He drove for about an hour and a half before we stopped outside a large, dark building. He stepped out and in the dark night, did not see me get down as well. I followed him almost all the way into the facility but stopped outside. Inside, I saw many Syrians speaking English. This is when I realized that these facilities do not automatically translate letters using machines or computer technology. They read the letters and print out the translation on a separate paper.
They have been reading our letters. I do not know what this means for us. Please, please be careful.
May God be with you, my friend.
Inayah
07.05
Happy birthday to me, Elias. Unfortunately my birthday this year is not full of joy. My family is dead. I have reached a dead end in my investigation. And my letter did not receive a stamp, nor a response from you. That means that either my letter was not sent to the Al-Bab facility, or The Linguian is purposely taking me for a fool. I will keep trying to reach you until The Linguian does its duty and sends my letters to you.
I find it frustrating that the only way I can communicate with you is through this facility. I hope you come to Syria soon. There are many things I must show you and tell you.
I could not go back to the facility since the last time I went. I did not find any opportunity to go to the post office without being caught. I asked every single orphan here, and none of them were part of the pen-pal program. No one was willing to help me.
Soon, I will find my way back into that facility. Soon, I will uncover their secrets. Soon, justice will be served to my family.
I hope you continue to practice your soccer skills and study hard. If you receive this letter, let me know how everything is going with you and Mr. Latif. I will be back with good news soon.
Yours,
Inayah
12.09 Ⓛ
To whom it may concern:
This letter is no longer to my pen-pal. This letter is to the scoundrel who is getting ready to discard this letter and forget about me. Forget about the lives they have destroyed. You have read all of our letters before; sit down and read this one. Perhaps you do not recognize my tone, but I am here. In Al-Bab. I am the one you and your colleagues shooed away for the last three months. Taking me for nothing but a poor orphan.
I came to you in late May, holding your stamps, his translated letters, and my hopes. I showed them all to you after finding my way into your facility. I explained how I have not received stamps for my last two letters. I pleaded that you place my name into your pen-pal tracking system to find where my friend was. I begged that you did something so I could get in contact with my friend. Do you remember what you did?
You shoved a cheque into my hand and told me to get lost.
I came again, this time after following one of your representatives for a long time. I came with more knowledge about you and your facilities. I came with questions that needed answers. I was met with a group of people celebrating with alcohol and sweets.
When I asked what the celebration was for, I was met with an answer I didn’t quite understand at first. Then reality sunk in. Before I could process what I’d heard, the same drunken man who answered my question threw me out… placing in my hand another cheque.
You vicious beings do not understand the value of a life. You only understand the value of money. You do not run a charity. You run a business. You see only what money can buy. You do not understand the feeling of love, compassion, and friendship. And God willing, you never will.
Elias, I know I will not receive a response from you. But I now speak directly to you. When I walked into the facility with my question of where you were, I was met with a response that sent my knees to the ground. I now know that you will never receive this message because you were shot to death at your high school, along with Khalid Latif, your guardian and a Syrian, by extremists from my country. Just like the rest of my family. Why? Because of The Linguian’s incapability to send me help… and their sheer failure at protecting you from its repercussions. I now know that the attackers weren’t so keen on finding your letters because they thought I was trying to get a passport to leave Syria. They were trying to get passports for themselves.
Why all of this? I begged the workers for a response. The most drunken one responded, telling me that as long as I received my cheques, they would be seen as heroes. Sending aid meant spending money. And in a business, that is the last thing one would do.
However, my grief was replaced by rage when I realized the occasion which they were celebrating. Your death, as it turns out, was a victory for them. After you sent my neighbors and I money, they saw you as a potential threat to their business. Once you mentioned rescuing me from the condition of my country, they realized it meant one less customer for them, one less person in need that they could pretend to help. Less charity meant less supporters. Less support meant less business. When you were killed, you were no longer a threat. The business was saved.
I recently found out the facility was moved due to a power outage in the building. I do not know its whereabouts now.
Elias, it is your birthday today. I could not give you what we had hoped for. I could not shut down this business which has torn countless lives apart, including ours. Only God knows how many more people’s lives will be destroyed.
Since I was unable to fulfill my promise to you, I promise you three more things on your birthday. I will help every poor child like me be able to support themselves without the help of a cruel business. As soon as I am able to, I will provide them with homes and food and water and as much love as my heart holds. That is my first promise.
I will find your murderers and I will make sure they are punished. I will make them stand and apologize to every person who suffered due to them. That is my second promise.
For my third and final promise, I must share good news with you. From the leftover money I had from the 3000 USD you sent me, I enrolled myself in a medical school. I am going to be a doctor, and it is because of your pure heart. I owe my life to you. But you died for my sake. Now, I will survive for you. Even if I am at the brink of death and cannot hold on any longer, I will remember that your last words to me were to “hold on just a little longer” and I will hold on with every ounce of energy in my body. I will study hard and save lives, right here in my country. You were unable to live out your dreams. I promise to live out mine.
I have faith that we will see each other again, my friend.
Always yours,
Inayah
