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Tomorrow there will be Apricots

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"Kill me instead,” she screamed.<br />
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Fadia, 19, traces the cracks in her rented apartment as she describes death of her father. He was killed in his bed, returning home from his work exhausted, as a laborer. Shortly before morning prayers, the security forces entered his room and shot him “execution style” in his head. When her little brother screamed, the guns were turned on him. She screamed, “Kill me instead.” She now lives with her aunt in a crowded one- bedroom apartment of 15 family members. They survive off digging through trash containers to find bread to dry and sell to herders, earning a couple of dollars a day. They have not even basic resources or network to consider a journey to a potential better life.