Splack, blade hits blood. The sacrifice is over,and he casts aside the limp, lifeless body. No longer,Please, he thought. He sits down a minute, to catch his breath.
Trrrrrring.
"Zia, I'm in a meeting, I'll be home soon." He tries to make the voice comforting but the call hangs up before he can.
He goes to the shed and pours a bucket of cold water over his naked body. The blood dissolves, forming thin streams all over his dark, tanned body.
He dries himself with a dirty towel, and goes to the wall where the tools were hung. He puts a screw driver in his mouth, and cuts himself on his forearm. A planned cut.
Two more to complete the pentagram. Then I'm free.
-
Zia runs a thin, tired hand over his scruffled, well-shaped beard, as she kissed him; and he can tast the smile on her lips, the faint fragrance of the perfume she wore that morning entering his nostrils.
"How was the meeting?" She asks and pecks him on the neck.
"What meeting?"
She looks at him for a moment, "Nothing, nevermind." She says. He looks distracted; distant, almost.
"Talib, are you okay?"
"Yea.. what? Yes I'm okay, Z. Just feel that everything I'm trying to do is being undermined."
"I love you, you know that right?"
"I know. I love you, too." He smiles, and the air lightens a little
-
Slap!
"I love him, father, and that's what matters."
He twirls her around and holds her neck. "You know what I do to girls like you who don't obey?" He asks, his voice lowered to a menacing growl now.
He takes out a steel blade from his waste, places it on her bosom.
"By Allah, I teach them RESPECT!!"
YOU ARE READING
The Ramadan Diaries
HorrorHow far would you go? Go to be with the ones you care for, protect them? I dont know what this story is yet, but it definitely keeps me up at nights. Watching, as Zia is torn between her religion, and the one she loves. Jalal, the mystery behind the...
