Hi Guys! Well, since I already did a fanfic only about Israel, I think it's more than fair I do a fanfic all about Palestine, at least mostly about his point of view.
I have to say I'm not a Palestinian or an Israeli and I don't even live anywhere near the middle east so, most of my writing along this fanfic it's inspired on news and videos from youtube about the occurrences happening there. I picked the situations that seemed more suitable and frequent, but I didn't use extreme situations (explicit murders, gore situations and stuff like that) because it's not my style and I don't believe – based on my search – is very common compared to other countries around them (like in Syria and Iraq).
I'm not biased or favour any side. For me, each side is guilty and innocent at the same time, and equally, I don't believe there is only hate and only love when it comes to Palestine and Israel's relationship. That's the feelings I try my best to express along with the story and show just how hard it is to both start to get along, although they feel tempted to.
Warnings: there is a lot of cursing; I have found this story a bit depressive in some parts, especially for the fact it's inspired on true events, so don't expect a fairy tale story.
"Done." He sighs clapping his hand on each other to get away the particles of dust and sand. The day was heating up without stop. He could feel the sweat crawl throw his skin, from the shoulders to his hands, making his palms seem rougher than it should and not making it any easy to get rid of all the glued fragments on his fingers. Was pointless to even care, his worn-out tank top – which once used to be white – was the only towel for his hands.
He looks around to him and his people work with a hidden pleasure. They did just fine that day despite the burning sun of summer. The smell of bricks and plaster had become common for him. It was not an easy job but also not the hardest, not when he had the right equipment to work with. Back at his place, it was much harder than this, there was no equipment to facilitate the simplest task, like transport material from one side to another, everything was done with the strength of a man, and he still did it. This? This was just an easy tip hunt – at least for someone on his situation.
Ignoring the dust still glued on his hands, he uses the back palm to wash away the sweat dripping on his forehead, looking away from his people to the unaware people passing by in the distance. Each thinking about each business, not staring, not disturbing, not caring about those working around them. It was almost peaceful to work like this and live like this if he did not have the constant reminder of their differences when they speak.
Two men of his use the break to talk and play a card game, not realizing that their mother language was being spoken away to loud making one or two pedestrians turn their heads and smile out of curiosity or a tad of fear.
He did not know why he found those innocent smiles so annoying, although back on his head it seemed clear it was because of her.
He breathes deeply again, trying to relax his tense muscles and forget what was troubling his mind right now. His work was done for today and he deserved his payment.
He says his goodbyes to his people walking towards the building ten meters away from the working place. He claps his hands again on the way, still trying vainly to clean them up, each clap making his hands more dried and skin close to breaking. When his head finally finds the cover of the building from the burning sun, he realizes he was highly dehydrated.
His throat was dry and maybe another reason why his skin was acting so ridiculously after the harsh work. Maybe, if she was in a good mood, she would give him water.
The thought made him smile with scorn. Was she ever in a good mood?
His mind might be playful about the situation, but his skin was not. Not seeing a better way to save himself from the itch on his hands, he takes the last resource and spits on his own hands, hoping the saliva would bring him some relief.
Before knocking on the door, he smiles again thinking today he would make the effort to shake her hand.
"Come on in!" The voice inside shouts after he knocked. She was not in a good mood.
He opens up the door, still smiling with his vengeance plan on march. Israel seemed fatigated, although the room was a lot fresher compared to the outside, a fan by her left and a fridge to her right that was telling him she had fresh water at her disposal.
"Isra-!" She raises one finger to shut him up. He hadn't noticed she was in a call with someone, and the person on the other side seemed pissed. He sighs looking around enjoying the fresh environment while he could.
The room was temporarily from Israel, just while the constructions were going on, so no important belonging from her was there, just tables and a desk filled with paperwork and personal belongings kept away from the workers to not have distractions.
On the desk Israel was sat on, there was a picture that enraged him every time he saw it. It was not special in truth, just a friendly picture with Israel, America, England, and France in some group vacation they went. He believed it was the inner prove of her success over him that stressed him that much about that picture. She seemed happy in the picture; unlike she was now while hearing the scold on the other line.
She kind of deserved whatever the other person was saying of her, he just hoped she would not revenge on him.
"Okay! I got it! I…Got it!" She shouts highly irritated desperate to hang up, but the person was insistent with her.
He smiles while looking around for her not to see. It was truly pleasing to see her angry.
He takes steps closer to her desk, getting her irritated stare on him hoping for the best of his intentions while he sat on top of her desk and picked up the portrait to watch it closer.
"Listen up here! I will not repeat myself again! I said I got it!" She shouts higher seeming more stressed for him touching her stuff than with the man on the other line.
The phone claps on the table indicating the call had ended. He smiles waiting for her to scream or shout at him, but instead, she stands up and walks to his front.
"Palestine, what the hell are you doing?" She asks pulling the portrait from his hands and cleaning it up. "What do you want?" She asks additionally while sitting again on her chair.
"The month is over, Israel." He says getting out of the desk and turning to her.
It was embarrassing to admit that he was, occasionally, working for Israel. But what choice did he have? Israel was good in everything she does, even at being a controlling bitch. She had a country to rule and she ruled with an envious perfection, while he barely could keep a steady government and provide the most basic resource to his people. Due to his lack of opportunities and investment, he had no choice but take jobs from Israel to bring some money to his own economy.
"Oh, yeah, I guess." She speaks distracted, probably still thinking about the call. "What do you want me to do about it?"
The question pissed him off.
"What about pay me?"
She looks straight on his eyes, angry stare fading to a joyful smile, not friendly or innocent. It was obvious for him she also took joy in seeing him angry.
"Yes, I guess that can do." She pulls out a box and after a carefully counting down she leans a good among of money to him but does not let him pull it just yet. "Anything else, Palestine?"
Palestine opens his mouth, feeling it drier than before.
"Water would also sound good."
"Aren't you a greedy bastard now?" She lets go of the money and despite her comment, she turns to the fridge taking out a bottle of fresh water like he expected there would be.
He almost leaned forward to grab it embracing her abnormal charity, but when she also pulls a small cup of plastic, he knew things would not go that easy.
She fills up the cup with the water, taking her sweet time. No way that among of water would at least fresh up his heated mind from the sun. She was toying with him. When she was done, and he was absolutely irritated, she leans forward the cup for him. On his mind, he spoke, better than nothing. Until he had barely moved to grab the cup, and she drinks it all.
She smiled, and he closed his eyes to not start shouting insults at her.
"Just testing the waters." She laughs filing the cup again and leaning it to him. He would not be surprised if she pulled it again to her, but she this time did give him the water to drink.
"You can be such a bitch sometimes." He ends up saying although he tried not to and drinks all the water from the cup only remembering right after she had also used that cup.
"Whatever." She pulls her almost all filled bottle up, teasing him with his still intact thirst. "You still seem dried Palestine, want more?"
"If you continue like this you might go out there and built your shit on your own." Israel smiles and raises from her chair to come near him again.
"Despite all odds, you're actually a good worker, Palestine." She fills his cup and gives the bottle to his other hand.
He sighs angrily with her. He had the reputation of lazy around that area, he believed to be her fault. After all, his government was fully dependent of her wish, if she closed the borders he was alone, if she didn't give him water he would suffer from thirst, even the goods given by the Arab neighbours', nothing would fall on his hands without her consent. What an outsider would think of him? Some might not even imagine the labour he has to give to get her to satisfy his basic needs.
"Maniac controller freak." He says without thinking and she obviously turns around offended.
"What did you said, Palestine? I guess the word 'thank you' is still not on your vocabulary, but what can I do?"
That was unbelievable. He was astonished for the fact that she always expected a thanks for her rare generosity, he would be thankful if she was not the reason why he was so pitiful right now.
"Thank you? Do you want me to count the thanks given to me for working for you? It's easy... Zero! So, don't come around with your bitch attitude towards me!" Israel crosses her arms, smiling vainly at him.
"Point taken. No thanks for me, or for you. Get your ass back here tomorrow morning, at 6 am."
"6 am?! Do you know how long I waste on the road to get here and that stupid checkpoint?!"
"Not my problem." She shrinks her arms. "I pay you very nicely, if you not on time I will cut on your salary."
He grits his teeth not believing the bullshit she was saying, obvious revenging for what he had said. The sad part was, he truly needed her money, no matter the efforts his government were doing, even them needed to pray for Israel's job offering to get some money to invest in themselves.
"Fine." He rests the cup on the table and leans his hand towards her.
Israel looks carefully and suspiciously at his calloused hand, highly bad treated because of work, but despite her anticipation, he keeps waiting and she gives up to that handshake.
"I should have asked you to wash your hands first." She speaks out loud feeling bits of sand scratching her skin with the pressure of the handshake. Palestine smiles at her.
"Thank Allah you didn't ask where my hand had been before shaking it."
Israel' frows her eyebrows and he realizes it was time to run.
The number of Palestinians working in Israel's controlled territory isn't very big (2-3%?), but I needed a situation to bring Israel and Palestine to have more contact than usual. Also, it's an interesting reality many people might not be very aware.
Palestinians don't work in Israel because they (usually) like it there, but it's a matter of need since Palestine's economy isn't very good (although it's improving, but slowly) and there is a lot of poverty in the areas controlled by Palestinian Authority, meanwhile Israel's economy is highly developed and Palestinians try to make the best out of it to improve their lives too.
So, it's a hard obviously a hard reality for them and they shouldn't be misjudged for it.