The Girl in The Green Scarf

T h i r t y

"The place is going to crash, we have to move," I say to her urgently but she remains rooted to her spot, eyes blank and glassy, brimming with unfallen tears.

"Hamsa! Come on!" I growl, the sound comes out fervent desperate. I know the ceiling is not going to hold up for much longer, and neither am I. That hit did a number on me. I can feel the room rotating and I try to hold my footing.

"You saved him," she whispers, her voice so far away, it could be underwater. "You saved his life."

The way she says those words, it's like she's not amazed that Hani was saved as much as that I did it. And right here I feel as though for the first time she looks up and sees me, not a horrible English man. Just me.

I swallow, casting a panicked glance behind us. "We have to get everyone outs-" another loud crash drowns the rest my words, this one dangerously close to where we are standing.

The tiny hairs in the back of my neck tingle and vibrate. Without giving it another thought, I shuffle Hani so that I'm holding him up with one arm over a shoulder and grab Hamsa's wrist by the now free hand. I know for a fact that she's not in her right mind when she doesn't knock my hand away. I have no time to consider her preservations and just pull her behind me.

We are outside the school building before I dare breathe again or look over my shoulder at Hamsa. I immediately let go of her hand and notice how hard she is shaking. Lamees has already evacuated the school and is counting the pupils out on the snow-covered street as we approach their group.

"Hamsa!" she exclaims, embracing her in a crushing hug then pulls back in concern. "What happened, did you find Hani?"

Just then Hamsa snaps out of whatever shock she was in and swings on me.

"Hani," his name comes out as a sob. "He's okay!"

She reaches for him, tears drowning her greens. A chocked cry escapes from somewhere deep inside his chest and he flings himself into Hamsa's arms.

I watch as her eyes glaze over Hani a thousand times, making sure he is fine. And after each round she kisses him until the tears and sobs fade into chuckles.

She keeps repeating "Alhamdulillah." over and over again, running a finger over the scarlet indentations the imprint of the rocks left across his cheek.

Everyone gathers around them and I move away from the crowd. The noise is not doing well for my aching head. I can feel heat radiate from my body like a heater and hug myself to hold it in.

I lean against the short stone wall edging the school building, taking a moment to reclaim my composure and comprehend what just happened. I saved a life. Almost got killed in the process, but I did it.

I press the heels of my palms to my eyes and squeeze them tight against the nagging pain. Hani could be dead now. But he isn't because of me. Just like someone else is, also because of me. The thought bounces about my head, rattling my already throbbing skull.

The proximity of death dredges up memories which make my skin cringe. I can almost feel the cold metal of the gun in my hand, making chills lick up my neck.

Something tugs at the hem of my torn shirt, saving me from where I was headed. I glance down to Zeina's tiny voice.

"Bash," she whispers shyly, gaze fixed on her pink, worn-out shoes. It's the quietest I've ever seen her.

I shunt away my mixed feelings and crouch in front of her, meeting her red, swollen eyes. She's been crying, I realise. Of course, Hani is her brother, she was worried about him.