Tale In The Red Sand

Chapter Twelve

"I'm fine, it's just the memories." She disclosed, sighing. Nevertheless, Hibaaq didn't find them disheartening, it was rather encouraging. The memories kept her sane, and it brought light into her life, instead of darkening it with grief. Her mourning days were long past her.

'For verily we belong to Allah, and to Him shall we return.'

"You miss her." Layla stated knowingly, pulling her friend into a heartwarming embrace. Hibaaq nodded into Layla's shoulder before pulling away with a small grin.

"So much. Thank you for becoming my sister." Hibaaq took a hold of her small hands, subtly making fun of her chubby fingers with a jesting look. "They're cute, don't worry."

Layla giggled and pulled her fingers away. "Are you kidding me. Thank you for putting up with me."

"Come on now." Hibaaq only just realised the piles of boxes littered around the vast space. "Where's the help"? She enquired, and as if they were summoned by the question, a handful of women she recognised as employees of the building began filling the room.

"Assistance is here. Thank you ladies for coming to help out." Layla greeted promptly. She began to quickly assign groups to different stations, giving out firm orders as she strutted around the hall. Hibaaq joined in, helping unpack the boxes and decorate despite her awful creativity in the field.

She couldn't quite tell if an hour or two had passed before the venue finally came together. All tables were covered with soft linen, embellished with bouquets of fake orchids sitting in the middle inside intricately detailed glass vases. Layla then ardently demanded there be real flowers on the day, or there would be war as she was not fond of the faux ones. A few more decorations scattered the walls and turquoise ribbons were tired on the chairs as well as along the stage in loops and bows. Like every year, it looked full of life, only with a little innovation.

The only thing left was to hang the welcome banner above the door outside the venue. This part was left for two male volunteers, who abruptly strode up to the group of women, insisting on not letting them risk getting hurt from 'rough work'. As anticipated, they all swooned, Layla included, whispering not so quietly about how such gentlemen they were. Hibaaq stood with her arms crossed, quietly watching in amusement. One man struggled with tying the string to the nail, asking his partner for assistance on how he managed before him. After a few dragging minutes, it was Hibaaq turn to insist on completing the task that kept them stalling.

She discreetly tucked in some of the fabric of her floral summer dress into her panty hoes so that she wouldn't trip on it's length, and swiftly climbed up the tall ladder with no problem. Once she reached the top, she could see exactly why the man had struggled. The nail was drilled too close to the wall, barely leaving space to loop a finger around it let alone pieces of thread. Although, Hibaaq managed to tie it with only three tries, and the banner hung finely on its own. The group below began to lustily applaud as Hibaaq made her way down, though it was cut short as Layla suddenly shrieked over the clamour.

"Hibaaq watch out"! She covered her mouth as Hibaaq placed her sandal clad foot onto a wooden step on the brink of snapping. A second too late and Hibaaq found herself falling backwards, her wide eyes staring up at the tall cream ceiling. It happened so fast and yet so slow, she didn't even have the time to react before the step suddenly broke a little too far up from the floor.

She wouldn't get up from this one unscathed, or get up at all for that matter. Only if it weren't for the
thick arm that wound around her waist at that exact time, padding her fall with their sturdy body. She leaned on the stranger's broad chest for support as she stumbled to find her footing, still in a short lived haze before she regained her balance, then her consciousness.