Forgetting Billions | ✓

00 | Forgetting Rahul

JASMINE KARESH didn't want to die.

She didn't want to hear the screams of her teachers as they each fell to the ground, one by one like human dominos. She didn't want to face a whizzing bullet as it careened through her classroom on its search for the perfect target.

Overwhelmed by her buzzing thoughts, Jasmine's fingers clasped together in prayer and she kneeled on the floor with her eyes squeezed shut. She whispered a series of pleas in a foreign language, shaking her head to make sure she didn't cry. Her parents always taught her to be strong, to never waste her tears on what didn't matter.

And the fact that she heard a gunshot for the first time in her life didn't matter, not when she had faith that she wouldn't be hurt. What person would ever look a six-year-old in the eye and shoot them?

Her best friend, Shayan Khan, was poking at her shoulder. She could hear him screaming for her to follow him into the art cabinet, a tiny space that she never liked to be confined to. She knew that walking into that room meant being pushed around by her panicking classmates, getting her toes stepped on, and maybe even having paint drip down the beautiful braids her aunt did for her that morning.

Disgusted by the mere idea of it, Jasmine brushed Shayan off and screamed mantras at the top of her lungs, hoping it would drown out the sound of shots echoing from outside the school.

Shayan seemed to have understood that the young girl beside him wasn't going to move anywhere. He frantically wiped his eyes and when he was sure that all his tears had dried, he fell to his knees. His head leaned against Jasmine's shoulder as the two of them faced the door, patiently waiting for their end.

Jasmine opened one eye when she heard someone running toward them. Her Uncle Rahul, the man she begged to come to school that day, stormed toward her with a stuffed Chewbacca doll clenched in his hand.

She hated herself for asking him to bring it. Couldn't she have lasted one day without that toy?

Rahul Karesh pulled the two children into his arms, sending a worried look behind his shoulder. "You can't just sit and pray in the middle of the classroom, Jasmine. You have to stay in the art cabinet. I'll be back before you know it."

"No!" she screeched, tears falling from her doe eyes despite her efforts as she slammed her tiny fists against his chest over and over again. "You always told me to pray when I had nightmares. You always told me that if God didn't protect me, you would. You promised me."

"Shayan will be with you. He'll take care of you this time," Rahul whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead with a sniffle. "I promise that we'll all be together soon. Trust me, Jazzy Pants."

Jasmine shook her head, gripping onto her uncle as strongly as she could, burying her head into his shoulder. For the first time in her life, Jasmine wasn't comforted by how his shirt always smelled like her aunt's famous Lemon Meringue Pie.

It only reminded her of the fact that she may never smell it again.

Rahul shoved Shayan into the closet and was about to do the same to Jasmine when his wife, Bianca Karesh, called out for him. That moment of distraction was all she needed to jump out of his arms and run toward her teacher, her beloved Aunt Bia.

She stopped in her tracks when she heard the intercom turn on, her head turning up to the ceiling

"Teachers, this is not a drill. I repeat this is not a dri—." Their principal's shaking voice was cut off by a similar bang, followed by a cry that could raise the dead.