The Girl in The Green Scarf

T w e l v e

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I wake up to the sound of singing.

The voice soothes me and for a moment there I think I found my way back to my house and it's my mother's voice. But then I realize this song isn't in English and mum is dead.

My eyes dart open and I turn to the source of the sound. It's Hamsa, standing in front of her blanket which I didn't bother moving while she was gone. Again with the magic thing, I guess. Only this time it doesn't sound so much as gibberish.  She says something and bends, going quite, then she stands again, and finally she prostrates. I watch her repeat this routine four times before she turns her head to her right then left. I immediately look away, pretending I wasn't just freakishly watching her.

"You're up," she says.

"You think?" I mumble.

"Are you always this grumpy? Sure you're not secretly one of snow white's dwarves?"

"Ha ha ha," I say mocking her poor attempt at a joke.

I can see it's daytime outside and wonder why the scumbags didn't come by yet. Perhaps they decided to give me a break for the day. Or maybe they really did give up and if that's the case then my days in this cell are numbered. It's only a matter of time before they decide to off me.

The thought of goatface's rifle against my temple makes me shudder and I sit up, the movement making my body ache. I guess being beat up every day leaves an effect behind.

Hamsa fidgets with her fingers and I can see her lips forming words in whispers.

"What are you doing?" I ask her, trying to get my mind off my last thought.

She looks up and seems puzzled by my simple question. She blinks twice before answering me.

"I am doing some zikr."

"Right. Good. 'Cause I know exactly what that is," I mutter.

She laughs slightly, shifting so that she is now facing me with her legs crossed.

"It's a prayer to God. You know like mentioning God's name numerous times and asking for his refuge," she elaborates.

"Oh, and what the hell is the point of that?" I ask incredulously.

"Well... it's comforting; if you remember God he'll remember you," she says softly.

I snort and she looks offended but I don't care, she's out of her mind and has a right to know.

"Look what good that have done you," I say, pointing at her sitting on the ground. "You are trapped here
with me and we'll probably be dead by the end of this week." I try to keep my tone light but fail. I expect her to get mad or even end this conversation but instead she shakes her head, the sadness in the motion taking me by surprise.

"You're a nonbeliever aren't you?" She asks and I scoff. It doesn't take a genius to realize this.

"Was it my mockery or my offensive note that ticked you off?"

"Why is that?" she goes on, ignoring my sarcasm.

"There's nothing to believe in," I say with a nonchalant nod.