I hang the Blue Jacket in the corner on a metal hook where others have hung their clothes.

It s not important to get to know everyone, as long as the jacket is safe.

No problem, what matters to me most is being able to relieve some of the tension and anxiety, and, most importantly, relieve the burden of caring for the blue jacket by packing it safely folded between my sweatshirt, now that have the new pyjamas to wear.

It was one of the benefits of my long imprisonment. I forgave Damascus too, for the agony I experienced whilst there after hearing my mother s voice on the phone for the first time after my release, standing in front of the Sham Center building.

The blue jacket I have to guard it with my life. I have to it belongs to my brother Aghyad who wanted to wear it that day but couldn t find either it, or me. This thought was the straw I clutched at the hope that I would get out for the sake of my brother and his jacket.