The new beginning - Diana

Amena looked up at the mirror as she finished washing her hands. She was confined to the large air craft's lavatory. The place she now occupied was small, but the square footage she stood on was her own space, quite differently from the spaces she shared with the multitude of family, friends and mostly strangers over the last few months. She finally felt the tingle of peace and solitude.

She looked into her dark eyes and noticed them for the first time, in a very long time. They were still the dark, deep colour of rich Belgium chocolate with an outline of ebony that created definition against the whites of her eyes. The eyes looked tiered, more than tired - exhausted and traumatized. For these were her lenses she witnessed horrible conditions.

She stared into those eyes for a long time, almost long enough to see that they might not even be her own eyes any more - for she wished those eyes continue to hide her tears, her anguish and the horror she saw.

After a few minutes, she heard a quiet knock on the door and the voice of her timid 10 year old brother knocking on the door. Checking to see if she was all right. Not only was this most current journey first for her, but also for the rest of her family. She straightened herself up and got out of the stall. His eyes looked at her and she smiled, hiding all the other emotions that she carried, letting him know that she's all right, that everything from now on - should be all right. There should be no more foot travel, dangerous ocean travel - that all this plane is holding is hope for them and their family in a country called Canada.

He took her hand and led her back to her seat. As she walked, she could still feel the blister on her left foot. The blister was made from hours and hours of walking out of Syria to reach Lebanon. Each time she gingerly stepped down on her left foot, her large toe gave the reminder of how far they walked. An invisible and uncomfortable stone in her left shoe. No matter how hard you try to pry the stone out, it's still there - a reminder of of uncomfortable situations that once were.