Suspiciouskid

  A year has passed since that night, but nothing has really changed Our house is still rubble, our streets still carry the smell of smoke, and the sky still echoes with sounds that make Amira flinch in her sleep. She has just turned one. She’s learning to walk, holding my finger with her tiny hand, laughing at the smallest things — as if she doesn’t see the destruction around her. She doesn’t know the word “loss.” She never met her father, but when she smiles, I see him there. Sometimes I watch her sleeping, and I wonder what kind of world she will grow up in — whether she will ever know what peace feels like, what home smells like. And yet, when she opens her eyes in the morning and says “mama,” everything becomes bearable again. I want to rebuild our home. Not just for the walls — but for her future. For Amira to have a small room, a safe place to dream, a life that belongs to her, not to war. I’m not asking for much. Only for a chance to give her a beginning filled with warmth instead of fear

 A Mother’s Message

My name is Abdulmajid.

I got married one month before the war. Those were beautiful days — full of hope, love, and simple dreams. I dreamed of a small home, a quiet family, and a baby girl I could hold without fear.

But the war came… Suddenly. Brutally.

My mother was killed. My brother was killed. Children in my family were taken by the bombs. My home was destroyed. And my work stopped completely.

Then… in the middle of this nightmare, my baby girl was born. A tiny soul, innocent, unaware of the war. She cries from hunger, from cold, from the sounds of bombs shaking what’s left of our walls.

Today, I’m a father with almost nothing… Fighting every day to find flour, milk, or even a small meal to feed my child.

Prices are sky-high — a single 25kg bag of flour can cost $800. There is no work. No income. No safety. No stability.

I write this from under siege, hoping my heart will reach yours.

Even $1 can make a difference. It can feed a child, buy milk, or bring a moment of peace. Be the heart that reaches Gaza. Be the hand that saves.

📌 Please share this post. Let our voices be heard — not buried under rubble.

he did care about them, he just mostly saw them as weapons/his property. he liked them, but when they were killed he didnt mourn them, he was just mad he was defeated again. hes not comically abusive, he wouldnt hurt them or intentionally shut them out to sleep in the rain, but hes also incompetent enough that he somehow didnt notice they had returned to townsville despite all the destruction they had caused between s5e17 and s6e12 (like doesnt he watch the news...) also ive said before how multiversus inspired a lot of my characterisation of the boys and that extends to their relationship with mojo

he did care about them, he just mostly saw them as weapons/his property. he liked them, but when they were killed he didnt mourn them, he was just mad he was defeated again. hes not comically abusive, he wouldnt hurt them or intentionally shut them out to sleep in the rain, but hes also incompetent enough that he somehow didnt notice they had returned to townsville despite all the destruction they had caused between s5e17 and s6e12 (like doesnt he watch the news...) also ive said before how multiversus inspired a lot of my characterisation of the boys and that extends to their relationship with mojo

he did care about them, he just mostly saw them as weapons/his property. he liked them, but when they were killed he didnt mourn them, he was just mad he was defeated again. hes not comically abusive, he wouldnt hurt them or intentionally shut them out to sleep in the rain, but hes also incompetent enough that he somehow didnt notice they had returned to townsville despite all the destruction they had caused between s5e17 and s6e12 (like doesnt he watch the news...) also ive said before how multiversus inspired a lot of my characterisation of the boys and that extends to their relationship with mojo

mabye i was taking it too seriously or smth