Jabil's pov
my mother held a wrapped black thing it was black magic, I can't believe it was real. I can't believe she found it. I laugh and I hug my mom and try lifting her but I only get her an inch off the soil and she screams scared.
"I'll make her pay," she says and I've never heard her speak like this, filled with hate and rage. I hold her back when she tries to leave "we have to get rid of the sihr first, we shouldn't let her know we found it"
"We can expose her to everyone, look how wicked she is, astaghfirullah. No one should be dealing with sihr imagine what she can do to everyone else" she says
"we're living in HER house mama, I'm pretty sure people would think we did sihr to her, in this case, she has nothing to benefit and we do."
"she could've killed you"
"And I hate her mama but I need to get rid of this" I hold up the sihr "without her knowing so she wouldn't -"
I hear sultana's voice in the house. (sultana = his moms aunt) my mom stares at me in panic and I beg her to do what I said.
She plants the flower that that magic was hidden under back quickly. Then I hid the shovel and started screaming while plucking different plants with my hands.
"you never listen to me, you're the worst mother ever" I scream. I yell at my mother through gritted teeth. she looks at me scared and confused.
"JABIL why are you doing this?" she says worried, I wink at her so she can play along. she understands and we both put on a show for sultana who peered through with a disgusting smile on her face. I drop the shovel screaming and go inside. I hear my mother fall on the floor dramatically pretending to be sad.
I push past sultana and can almost hear her wicked laugh. I leave the house and take the small bundle of tied hair with me to the Shiekh. The Shiekh smiles at me and says alhamdulillah. "I'm glad you found it, insha'Allah now you'll get rid of all that pain bringing you down. He sits down and starts reciting al kursi, some dhikr that's a little familiar to me, and some ayat from surah Musa. the heaviness in my head was lifting. the burning in my feet was cooling down. I forgot how good it felt to not feel all this invisible pain. i had actually liked sultana. the Shiekh finishes and asks me how i feel now. i choke my cry "better" i wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I am a man, men shouldn't cry.
"you seem like a good kid, what a shame it would've been to lose you to witchcraft. a piece of advice, know the adhkar like you know your name. There are people out there with wicked intentions may Allah protect us from them. Allah has provided us with all that we need. Recite the Quran son and read your daily adhkar.
I nod. I meant it, I will. This time I won't lie to my mother that I've read them. I won't say they're useless because without knowing it, they could have protected me from this from the very beginning. maybe I would have never even known she did witchcraft on me.
"son, why don't I ever see you in the mosque?"
I lower my head in shame. I've never gone to the mosque. "because I don't go Shiekh"
"well maybe you should, and there's a lot of boys here who recite and memorize the Quran after prayers I advise you to come."
my mom walks in "Aslam alkium wa rhamta Allah" she says scanning me and watching the Shiekh untie the remaining strands of the magic
"Walkium al salam al-salama Allah wa baraktu"he says
"Are you feeling better?" she asks coming closer to get a better look
"yes mama"
"alhamdulillah" she squeals hardly containing herself from jumping up and down
"Barak Allah fayk ya sheikh, may Allah grant you a long life and bless you endlessly and grant you happiness in this life and after," she says walking closer to me and wrapping my head in her arms.
"amen, jazzak Allah khayr, and think about what I told you, son, may Allah guide you and protect you and your mother."
on the way back, my mother takes a different turn and walks me into a different house, she walks into the yard and then unlocks the next door into the house. it was a tiny but really pretty house.
"come in Qamari, this is your home," she says
I walk inside and there was dust everywhere."We have a house?!" i asked and my mother nods tracing the items in the house and her eyes seem to soften at old memories
"you and him lived here?" she nods again.
"why didn't you ever tell me?"
"I'm sorry, I'm only a woman Jabil, they wouldn't allow me to live alone so I was - or we were forced to live with your uncle, but I think you're old enough now. I was going to wait for your dad but after this incident, I think we should clean all our resining things in that house and start living here. I need your help though"
"Whatever you need" I nod. WE HAVE OUR OWN HOUSE!! I thought we were homeless this whole time. I walk around the house grinning. I HAVE A HOME.
"alright let's go Jabil."
on the way to my uncle's house, we talked about how to start moving our things slowly so we can take all the things that sultana might be able to use for black magic again. we take our hair combs and wash the bedsheets. I skip school for two days because each day I slowly moved some of the things from one house to another using my bag. I still walked Marwa to school and home on school days.
"Are you coming tomorrow?" Marwa asks kicking some stones in front of her
"Maybe I don't know" she looked at me and her brows furrowed
"so what now, you'll just never come to school"
"I never said that just not right now"
"you're such an idiot"
why does she even care?! "you can't call me that"
"I just did"
"fine then walk alone to school," I said turning around
"no wait"
i didn't wait. I shouldn't have to be the one who watches over her. she's not even grateful. she just bothers me the whole time.
"Jabil, don't leave". I keep walking the other way pretending not to hear "I'm sorry" she says and then I turn around.
"What did you say I couldn't hear you?" I said but I heard very well. an apology was not something Marwa gives easily so this was my moment
"I'm sorry" she repeats. this is what I wanted to hear. she always acts so haughtily just because she has daddy's money. I turn around and we walk the rest of the way quietly. today is already looking like a good day for me.
YOU ARE READING
A silent cry
Historical Fiction"and after all this time of waiting the devil would reach out to me and whisper, he's dead and you are here, how much longer will you wait, how much longer would you deny the truth, at some point, I was afraid that he would unlock my ribcage and sen...
