//TW: Blood//
The ground where she'd hoped to see Muhsin's footsteps from the night before was drenched in water, the soil beginning to harden beneath her feet. The thought that there might have been something to rinse away made her heart fall. Even as her eyes roamed over the street now freshly illuminated under the afternoon sun, Amani found not a single droplet of blood or piece of clothing.
Not one sign.
She'd never received a call. She was fully confident in the fact because she'd spent the night beside the landline in the living room, watching the small bulb in hopes it would begin flashing red. But the phone didn't ring a single time since she'd parted ways from Muhsin yesterday. If her aunt hadn't stopped her, Amani would have taken herself to his home in search of his disappeared self.
Every step she took down the long street in the direction of his home, the gunshot fired time after another in her mind. All night she'd questioned the body the bullet would have pierced through.
Perhaps the soldier had turned the rifle away and shot it, only to scare Muhsin. Or maybe someone else had stepped into the encounter and become the victim of the situation. But no deaths had been called out in the town's speakers. If someone had died, they would have announced it already, right?
Unless they had just found the body a few hours ago. Then they would have to choose which prayer would be claimed for the lost soul. Not to mention notify the family and wash and prepare the victim.
What if it was Muhsin?
What if Muhsin had been killed because she'd walked away when she should have just stayed with him? Amani stifled the urge to curse herself for making such a stupid decision. Yesterday was a better time than ever to ignore Muhsin's orders—she'd done it before so there had been no reason to start.
The bakery remained unopened when she came to an anxious stop in front of its glass. Today was Monday—Muhsin spent Mondays managing the bakery—and it wasn't early in the day. He usually had it opened by now.
Where was he?
Amani turned toward the taller building a few houses down. She'd never visited his house without an escort. If anyone in the street saw, they might think it scandalous. Amani hardly cared but she knew Muhsin would. Should she go up? Or should she go home, ask her aunt for the number, and call instead?
Muhsin would vote for the second choice.
But Muhsin wasn't here.
And Amani was impatient.
She huffed a breath of determination and abandoned the front of the unopened bakery with only one target in mind. It didn't matter if anybody else saw her visit Muhsin's house without an escort. This was hardly a matter in which to worry about what others would think.
"Amani," he called from behind her, hardly having to raise his voice so her name would carry. She heard him easily regardless of how far away they were or how loudly the streets bustled around them.
Amani spun around at Muhsin's voice, finding him stepping out of the bakery door with a stained apron around his waist. He looked at her questioningly as if he was unsure whether he'd really seen her.
At the sight of him, unscathed, Amani's lungs finally released the breath she felt like she'd been suffocating on all night. "Muhsin," she sighed, quickly walking back toward him.
Muhsin wiped his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder as she approached, squinting in the overhead sunlight to see the girl. "Is everything OK?" He asked.
"You didn't call," she dropped her voice but retained the same frustration she'd felt just moments before.
His expression shifted at her statement and Muhsin realized that he seemed to have forgotten what he'd told her he would do. "Ah," he murmured, tossing the towel back over his shoulder. "Right. I must have forgotten when I made it home. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" She challenged. "There was a gunshot. I thought you'd been shot or killed, Muhsin. I waited all night for your call."
The edges of his lips teased into the ghost of a grin. "You were worried about me?" Muhsin asked.
If she could touch him, Amani would have punched him. She didn't care that they were in the middle of the street. "Be quiet," she snapped. "How could you forget to call? What were you doing that was so important you couldn't make a single call before going to bed? I can't believe you! My exhaustion is solely your fault."
He smiled. "I do not want you losing sleep over me."
"Then you should have called and told me you were alive."
"I'm sorry," Muhsin nodded. "I will remember next time."
"Don't let there be a next time," she grumbled, dreading any day in the future when she would feel the weight of the unanswered questions that had overrun her thoughts all night. From now on, she and Muhsin needed to return to the safety of their homes at the same time of night that everyone else did. Graveyard visits before dawn were no longer worth what she had to endure yesterday.
All the worries of whether Muhsin would be able to escape the armed soldier or if he would be detained for a number of unending years like Fayza said happened. She would have never forgiven herself if he hadn't been standing in front of her now. "Wait," Amani considered to herself. "You haven't told me. How did you get away?"
Muhsin thought for a moment. "I asked nicely."
She frowned at him. "Seriously."
He nodded.
"Then who shot that gun?"
Muhsin shrugged. "It must have been one of the other soldiers in the graveyard. They may have seen the spirit that saved our lives and thought it was another innocent opportunity for target practice as they do," his tone was laced with humor and sincerity. Sometimes, his hardened expression made it difficult for Amani to tell if his words were honest or a dry attempt at sarcasm.
Amani pouted in thought. "But the ground was wet...."
"Did you come down at such an early hour to make sure I was alive then?" Muhsin asked, his squinting eyes offering hints of flattery that Amani glared at. Perhaps if he hadn't forgotten to call and left her worried about his state of living all night, she would have enjoyed soothing his ego.
But she did not enjoy it at the moment.
"Should I say it one more time?"
Muhsin shook his head, closing his eyes to assure her that he understood the task. "I will not forget to call from now on. If you really were so worried, you should have called, Amani. Then I would have answered and you could have gone to bed."
"Or I would have woken your entire family."
"Call me then, not the house phone."
Amani perked up at the new permission she'd unexpectedly been granted. Calling Muhsin on his personal phone? It was almost so unheard-of Amani had never even considered it. "Jad?" She asked.
Muhsin nodded. "Jad. Call me whenever you feel as though you need to and I will pick up. Now, you can have peace of mind."
"Any time?"
He bowed his head. "Any time."
"What? You don't sleep?"
His eyes watched her thoughtfully before he repeated himself. "I will answer," Muhsin offered, subtly tugging his hands behind his back. "Regardless of anything else. That is what matters."
Amani broke into a wide grin. "I feel so important."
"I'm wearing your ring. You should not feel it, you should know it."
Muhsin's gaze focused on her and his smile shrunk in the slightest as if he could not give enough attention to his own expression in the presence of her blatant excitement. The way he observed her so wholly like there was nothing in the world worth observation when she stood in front of him always made Amani's lungs swell until her ribs kept her intact. Were it not for her bones, she would have melted under his gaze long ago.
Then his eyes left hers and shifted past her just as Amani began to hear the commotion gradually filling the street. She watched Muhsin until the smile fell from his lips. The admiration in his eyes washed away in a blink, replaced with more things than one. A hard coldness was the first she saw on him.
The second: utter terror.
Muhsin tugged the towel off his shoulder before stepping past Amani and sprinting away in the direction all the voices were quickly coming from. She turned her head toward what he'd seen.
At the sight, Amani understood his reaction.
In the distance, Fayza stumbled down the street. Her legs were so weak beneath her, they stood at awkward angles in an attempt to support her weight. One of her wide pant legs was stained with blood that could be seen branching into separate trails over her bare left foot. And a river of blood poured from her right shoulder.
Amani took off after Muhsin.
"Ambulance!" He shouted, his voice raw and desperate as he reached forward, barely gripping his sister's extended hand before she dropped to the ground. Muhsin fell onto his knees to catch her. Fayza fell into his arms and, as if she'd only mustered enough strength to bring herself to the safety of her brother, her eyes slipped to a close.
"What happened?" He hopelessly questioned.
Amani's hand flew to her mouth when she stopped above him, seeing the actuality of her injuries from so close. Her left eye was swollen to a size that completely shut it; the size of a bloated golf ball on her petite features. A deep gash cut across the bridge of her nose, pouring thick blood down the center of her face and extending dark bruises beneath both of her eyes. A violent graft like asphalt burn decorated the entire right side of her face.
"Fayza," Muhsin turned her head in an attempt to wake up the girl that had fallen completely silent in his arms. "Fayza!" He shook her. Amani flinched at the helpless crack in his voice as he tried speaking to his unconscious little sister. "Get the ambulance!" He yelled at anybody around them who would listen.
Two boys quickly spun around and sprinted in the direction of the hospital, calling on a third to join them.
"What have you done, Fayza... What have you done to yourself?" Muhsin cried in distress. Amani could almost feel the pounding of his heart reverberating through the ground beneath them as his composure broke. He brought the towel in his hand to his sister's nose, holding it in its place as the blood flowing from her nostrils quickly stained its light material.
Not willing to wait for the ambulance another second, Muhsin lifted his sister off the ground and began toward the hospital. The vehicle met them at the end of the street and everything happened so quickly. He laid her onto the stretcher, they secured Fayza's limp body and placed her within. Muhsin and Amani climbed in after.
She hardly heard all the questions the paramedics were asking Muhsin. Amani only saw both of their lips moving in the unclear background of the unconscious girl laying in front of her. Fayza's chest stopped rising and falling as it had been.
One of the paramedics noticed at the same time she did. The woman pushed the fabric of Fayza's loose hijab back and pushed her hands into the girl's chest. Muhsin's entire body rippled with tension beside Amani, his shot eyes never once leaving his sister. The ambulance raced through the streets, its sirens loud outside.
Then it came to a screeching halt that knocked the female paramedic onto the floor, her resuscitations momentarily pausing.
"What is it?" The other man asked.
"They're blocking the path."
Muhsin shot forward. Over his head, Amani saw the occupational vehicle standing horizontally across the street, refusing to allow the ambulance through. "Dogs," he spat, turning to get out.
Amani gripped his arm. "Muhsin, wait," she tried. What was he going to do? Stand in front of a bulldozer of a military vehicle and get himself killed too by the dozens of soldiers surrounding them?
"What do you want me to do?" He asked. "Sit here and let my sister die because they are in the way."
"What are you going to do?" She reasoned.
Muhsin's eyes burned with a coldness that made the hot afternoon feel like winter in Antarctica. "I'm going to kill them."
He moved past her. "They're going to kill you."
"Then we'll both die."
They attempted to close the doors after he jumped out but Amani raced after him. If he was going to face their protective uniforms and loaded rifles then she would not let him face them alone.
Muhsin hardly noticed her. "Clear the way!" He shouted.
"Go around."
"There is someone injured!" An elder man appeared from the doorway of his home and hobbled on his cane. "Let the ambulance go to the hospital. It is what is humane."
His two sons came after him, larger than their father.
One barked. "Move!"
"Take that car somewhere else!" The other shouted.
"There are other streets." The armed man spoke.
"This is the main road. You are blocking the path," the elder man attempted to reason. Amani watched his attempts to appeal to the mercy of creatures' incapable of such a thing. He placed his hand on one soldier's arm. "Just take a few steps to the side."
The green man shoved him off and he stumbled back into his bearded son. "Go back into your home, old man!" He shouted, lifting his rifle in a foolish intimidation attempt.
"Don't touch him, coward!" His other son yelled, stepping forward.
Muhsin shoved the soldier back.
The soldier pointed his gun at him.
Amani jumped forward, shoving the rifle's barrel to the sky.
The bullet fired a few inches above her head.
"God is great!" A young boy screamed behind them. He raced forward with a bright bottle in his hand. Everyone turned to see him launch it toward the occupational vehicle.
Muhsin yanked Amani back as it shattered on a soldier, the flame igniting on his clothing. A female soldier turned her weapon onto the boy who reached down for a rock but a fourth man caught her weapon, wrestling her for control. One of the sons from before now held a metal chair in his hands and, faster than she could follow, a struggle broke out between the townspeople and soldiers.
"Get back in," Muhsin said as he raced past her, ducking between the growing fight. Amani saw him climb into the newly abandoned vehicle as she turned back. By the time she rounded the ambulance again, he'd taken off down the street, the wheels skidding and the soldiers racing after their vehicle.
The paramedics refused to let her in, unable to see who was knocking. Amani raced back into the front and quickly led them through the narrow space created between the civilians armed with sticks and chairs who pushed the soldiers away.
It raced the remainder of the way.
She only saw Fayza again in a room on the second floor that, unlike the ones she'd seen below, housed only her. If she hadn't been directed by a nurse, Amani would never have found her.
The wires, bandages, and tubes surrounding Fayza made it difficult to see her smaller figure beneath. Her head was wrapped beneath the hijab they'd carefully placed back on, her injured eye covered, and a thick beige object braced her nose. A large sticker was placed over the skinned portion of her cheek. One arm was held in a brace and the rest of her body was covered with a white sheet.
Muhsin arrived soon after, his breathing heavy and uneven. He'd been looking in all of the rooms until he saw Amani. "What did they do?" He asked, rounding the large bed. "What did they say?"
"They haven't come in yet."
She saw his heart fall at the sight of his sister, hooked to hundreds of machine and a large tube pushed down her throat. For the moment that it fell silent between them, the oxygen machine whirred and Fayza's chest inflated with the air pushed into her lungs.
Muhsin's eyes fell to the floor, almost like he couldn't look at the state of his baby sister. "If they have all these machines, how am I supposed to allow myself to feel?"
Amani began reaching for him just as the doctor entered. She held a clipboard in her hand and greeted them both respectfully. "I would like to discuss the patient's state with her family. Can you give us a moment?"
She'd only begun to nod when Muhsin caught the sleeve of her abaya to keep her still. "She is family," he spoke.
"This is Fayza Awad, correct? And you are Muhsin Awad?"
He nodded.
"Look here, Muhsin. When your sister came to me , she was struggling to breathe and her heart was quiet. Sometimes, we would not even consider someone in such a state to be alive. Her heartrate did return after we used the defibrillator but her breathing was still weak. That is likely because she had a broken rib that injured her lung tissue. We tried to help with what we could. Now, it is up to Fayza."
Muhsin's eyes were filled with a focus Amani had never seen before. His eyebrows lowered ever so slightly and his features sharpened to an alertness. "Will she be OK?"
The doctor sighed. "I am not sure. She has far too much internal damage for us to know for sure but it is damage that her body may be able to heal. That's why we are doing everything we can to give her the support she needs. This first week will tell us whether her body can repair itself. We just have to be patient and pray for her."
He could hardly look at the bed in front of her. "What are...."
"Muhsin," the doctor's tone changed to that of a mother. "I have heard of your sister. She is a fighter, a warrior. God has gifted her a strength so many can only dream of having. Inshallah he will do what he knows is best. The only thing we can do now is pray for her."
He nodded. "Thank you."
"I will leave you then."
"My daughter!" Um Muhsin exclaimed, rushing past the doctor. She held her chest at the sight of the girl. Muhsin stepped back as his mother quickly rounded the bed and dropped onto her knees, grasping Fayza's unbonded hand. "Ya Rabi," she wept.
After her, Ezzo and Amjad raced in. "Is she here?"
"What happened to Fayza?"
Um Muhsin's voice shook in resisting the tears she did not want her other children to see. Amani's chest ached at the way her lower lip quivered while she spoke to Fayza. "What have they done to you, my soul? Why would they hurt you so when you were all alone? Open your eyes, my love. Let me see your eyes."
Muhsin's expression contorted at his mother's words. He turned his gaze away from his family and quickly left the room.
Amani followed. "Muhsin! Where are you going?"
He stopped in the hall outside of the room. "The olive garden," he answered, his voice hoarse. "I need to tend to Shajar."
"Now? You should be with your family."
Muhsin shook his head. "I cannot."
Amani saw the momentary flicker in his expression. For every moment he looked at her now, Muhsin seemed like he was a single word away from completely falling apart. But he so desperately tried to maintain his composure. It broke her heart. "Don't blame yourself," she pleaded, taking a cautious step toward him.
"How can I not? It's my responsibility to keep her safe. Fayza...," his voice broke when he said her name. "...is my responsibility and now she is laying in that bed on God's doors."
Even as she shook her head, Amani knew he would not listen.
"I failed my sister, Amani," he whispered. His voice no longer strong enough to fully carry his words as he spoke. "I failed Fayza."
"Muhsin-."
"Don't follow me. Please."
__________
Noooo Fayza!!! Not my favorite character along with Muhsin and Amani and all the other characters, my heart is breakingggg.
Actually, who's your favorite character guys?