Revision of paper 1
October 8, 2000
My Best Friend
If you prefer a good friend, you then should be one yourself. That expression always sticks in my own mind when I recall my best good friend Omar.
Omar and I have already been friends for over two decades. We've done everything together since the day Omar transferred to Jerusalem along with his family. Omar was simply eight back then and packed with stories. I especially liked the main one about how women mysteriously grew infants within their stomach six month once they get married. 2 yrs from then on, we became close friends when Omar showed me one of is own fathers adult periodicals. We thought that women were really weird in the past. We nonetheless share that secret even today.
Our friendship became much better through the Palestinian intifada, or uprising, of the overdue eighties and early on nineties. I will remember that day in January, of 89. Your day when Israeli soldiers shot me as I waited for my sister to complete college in East Jerusalem. An individual shot that entered the proper side of my brain. I remember sensing a sting as the bullet penetrated your skin, seconds before my brain exploded in uncontrollable, excruciating pain. My entire life was never likely to be the same from then on.
It was rumored twice that I passed away as I laid in a coma for