T w e n t y F i v e
This one is for empressbell
:)
"The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!"
-Fyodor Dostoyevsky,
Crime and Punishment-
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(Comment here if you are like me and didn't pronounce that person's last name. 😂)
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Recap
I tried my best to fight him off, but the terrorist smacked me on my head, making me go dizzy.
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Mashal
The world spinned around me and my head ached like crazy. The noise of the cracking gunshots reverberated in my ears as the bodies fell to the ground like lifeless, plastic dolls.
It didn't matter anymore, whether the dying men were of Alnihhaya or ISIS. All that mattered was that they were humans.
Everything had suddenly gone blur and out of my focus. In that state of almost passing away with the sight of my husband's body sprawled on the floor, facing the ground, I heard a few more gun shots and Ibrahim's voice calling out loud for me.
The hold of the terrorist on my arm loosened and was quickly replaced by another hand before my body gave up.
Living is not a choice, neither is dying. If it was a choice, I would've chosen a million bullets in my chest than that one bullet in Zeyara's.
I was a bird soaring high above reality, at the time of a beautiful orange sunrise. Spreading my wings out in the cool air and then pulling them back in.
Then I realised, if I was a bird I could've flown away with Zeyara from that place but I couldn't. I could only watch him getting shot and fall, face first to the ground with his hand on his chest, where the gun had wounded him.
I woke up in a state of restlessness and immediately sat up in the blanket surrounding me.
"Zeyara!" I shouted before I could even think of anything else.
"Relax Mashal! Everything is alright."
Ibrahim came running up to me in desolation with the blood stains and dirt on his white Alnihayya shirt making it look like the table cloth after Iftar. His hair and beard were untidy, his black jacket was missing and most of all, he looked devastated.
As he sat down near me and patted my back reassuringly, I realised, his jacket was missing because the blanket around me was not a blanket but his jacket.
Nothing was alright.
"Where's Zeyara?!" I asked impatiently. The words left my mouth before I could even think.
The cool air and green grass around us told me that we weren't anywhere near Alnihhaya. This, and Ibrahim's silence and dropped face as a response to my question, forced me to go back.
The sound of that bullet striking Zeyara and the pained expression on his face as he fell, replayed in my mind. My breathing grew rapid and shallower.
"Zeyara is in pain. He's bleeding. He needs me and I'm not there!" I screamed as tension washed my face. Ibrahim looked away from me and towards the ground. Neither was he meeting my eyes nor was he breaking his fast of silence.
This grew the seed of worry on my heart into a firm rooted tree. "Tell me!" I screamed hysterically, as I grabbed his collar and began shaking him in anguish. "Take me to him!"
He didn't say anything. As if saying something would cause a huge destruction.
Normally silence is soothing for me but this silence was nothing but a deadly enemy.
My screams caused a crowd of people to form around us, making me realise that we weren't alone there, wherever we were.
The crowd consisted of Alnihhaya troops and women whom I had seen many times in the headquarters. My mind registered them to be squadron two, who Zeyara ordered Ibrahim to command and evacuate the women.
"You need to be patient." Ibrahim finally spoke, getting himself free from my hold. His voice was firm but low and contained an abundance of meaning.
I stared at my brother's face, dreading the meaning of his words. His eyes were sad and no matter how hard I tried to ignore the scary thought striking my mind, his eyes made me go indecisive.
"W-where is he?" I still asked, swallowing my saliva and the pessimism running in my veins.
A sob escaped the lips of a young man who stood among the crowd around us. My eyes drifted to his side. Not only him but everyone had that sad and sympathetic look on their face. The women on the verge of crying, looked at me with pity in their eyes. The grey sky from above stared down at me in misery and the green grass underneath me mourned as it swayed in the breeze.
"He was the best of us, the bravest." He said, sucking in a deep breath of regret.
"What do you mean by 'he was'? He is!!" I leapt up to my feet and ran up to the man with anger in my eyes. As I walked closer to him, I recognised him to be one of the many men who practiced in the hall with Zeyara.
My vulture like gaze made him take a step back. If looks could kill, he would've been dead by now.
"Mashal calm down." Ibrahim whispered, walking up to me in an attempt to restrain my burning fury but instead, his words enraged me even more.
"I am tired of hearing that sentence!" I screamed out in agony with everyone's stares at me as if I was a mad woman. At that time, however, I guess I was.
"Did you hear what he said Ibrahim?" My voice and courage, both cracked as I said that. I wasn't angry anymore, I was empty and desolated. "He just said that Zeyara...." A hiccup escaped my lips as I tried to speak the dreadful words. "Zeyara is de-dead."
I wanted Ibrahim to say no. I wanted him to tell me that Zeyara was in a hospital getting some rest and out of danger but instead, what he said pulled the ground from under my feet and the sky from above my head.
"That's the truth Mashal. Accept it." He said in an air of melancholy but with such confidence and surety that it trembled my very being.
I could hear a few women starting to cry, mourning the loss of Zeyara.
I glanced between the crowd and my brother and then up at the sky, hoping that someone would tell me, even if it was a lie, that Zeyara was still alive but no voice came, even the vast sky above remained oblivious to my pain.
"No." I whispered lowly as I stared at the sky and then as if that whisper was not enough, I screamed.
A desperate scream of distress, terror and intense pain. The kind of scream that freezes everyone and envelops then in that wild panic. My nails digged into my palms, my eyes wide open and my mouth screamed. No, not only my mouth, my whole body screamed.
My screaming intensified the cries of the crowd. Everyone had their eyes wet, except for me.
"No! Don't cry!! Why are you all crying? He's not dead. He's alive. I- I will" I looked around desperately for a weapon and my eyes fell on a pistol hanging from Ibrahim's belt. I rushed and hurriedly grabbed it before he could stop me.
"I will shoot anyone who cries or says that Zeyara is d-dead!" I wrapped my hands around the cold metal of the deadly weapon and pointed it at the people around me.
They all gasped, as they stared at me in shock and disbelief. They couldn't believe I was doing this and neither could I.
"What are you doing Mashal? Stop it!" Ibrahim ran up from behind me and snatched the gun away from my feeble hands. I didn't even try to resist.
"Tell me what happened?! I was with Zeyara. How am I here?" I asked, my voice loud enough to tear weak ear drums.
His wet eyes stared at me, regret sparkling in those black orbs which were a reflection of my own eyes. "When we reached there he was already shot. There were so many terrorists. We could only save you. You were our priority because you are the password. I tried shaking Zeyara to wake him up, to even get a slightest hint of life but-" Ibrahim sighed, tears rolling down his cheek and setting in his beard. "We couldn't even bring his body. The terrorists were after us, they still are! We just ran to the opposite side of the mountain where we are right n-"
"How could you? You left him there and you saved me? Why? Why?!" I yelled, my hollor piercing the silence of the evening once again. "You left him there with those monsters!"
Ibrahim pressed his lips tight and tried pulling me into a hug but as soon as I was closer to him, I landed punches on his chest and kicked him. Even though my weak body in front of him was like a fly in front of a giant, but still I hit him desperately and for the first time that evening, my eyes finally teared up.
"You should've left me there as well! Do you think you have saved me? No! You have killed me!"
"Mashal...." Ibrahim mumbled without defending himself from my weak attacks, "I'm sorry."
I stopped punching him and pulled away, not because I was done hitting him, just because I had no power left.
I moved away from him, from the crowd, from everyone. Ibrahim grabbed my arm softly as I walked away from him. "Masha-"
"Leave me alone!" I dejected, pulling myself away from his hold.
"Let her be for some time." I heard someone whisper to Ibrahim as I walked away from him. Thankfully enough, he took that person's advice and didn't come after me. My weak legs dragged my body, I wanted to go as far away from them as I could.
However, my legs didn't allow that and I sank to the ground under a huge, branched tree at a good distance away from them. I supported my back against the tree trunk. It's rough roots, dug into my skin painfully, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain I was feeling.
I wrapped my arms around my legs and dug my face in them. Although I was already crying but now that I was alone, tears flooded out of my eyes like a never ending fountain. As if on cue, the pregnant clouds on the grey sky delivered rain drops. I would've enjoyed the rain if it was some other time but at that time, each drop, felt like a bullet striking me.
The rain came down in wild torrents, mixed with the soil under me, forming damp mud which dirtied my black abaya, forming tea coloured spots on it.
I looked up at the rainy sky, letting the rain drops wash my face and mingle with my tears. I stared at the skies and beyond.
I stared as if I was staring at Allah and asking him what had happened.
"You are Ar-Rahman! How could you do this to me?!" I wailed, my voice echoing in the tip tap of the rain.
The sky cracked with purple lightning and a violent thunder as those ungrateful words excaped my mouth. I shuddered, trembling with that noise. I wrapped my cold arms even more tightly around me and sobbed continously.
It was just the first day of our marriage.
I have no idea how long I remained there but when the sun had set and the rain had stopped, I heard the faint sound of Ibrahim giving the Maghrib azan.
The melodious voice made my heart beat go even and calmed me a little. I stopped crying and tried to gather up some courage that I needed desperately.
"Mashal" I heard Ibrahim whisper almost inaudibly near me. I had no idea when he walked up to me but he did. I kept my head buried in my legs, not wanting to look up and face reality.
He sighed in an air of remorse and spoke again. "It's time for Maghrib. You should pray. You have been sitting here since Asr."
I knew I had to respond to him or else he would never leave me alone. "I don't have to pray. I started my cycle today." I murmured, with my head still hidden away from the world.
He stood there in silence for a while before he walked off.
Usually I hate getting my period because of not being able to pray but today I felt thankful for it because I really didn't have the courage to face Allah after what I said to Him.
I was drowning in the sea of my own emotions. I was gasping for air, desperate to come to the surface but everytime I tried, something pulled me back inside.
As the inky night sky replaced the gray one, I saw the Alnihayya men, lighting up a fire and putting up tents around it. The ground was still damp and I could smell wet mud and rain. I love that scent so much but my emotions didn't let me enjoy it. Crickets chirped around me in the dark, my cold, drenched body begged me to go near the warm fire and my empty stomach rumbled violently when the smell of barbecued meat hit my nostrils.
But all those feelings together, still couldn't beat the feeling of Zeyara not being near me. I didn't want to move an inch from there. I wanted him to come and take me, with my hand in his hand and my head on his shoulder, listening to his smooth heartbeat.
But instead, Ibrahim came once again.
"Come on Mashal. You need to eat. The men shot a few pigeons and we have cooked that." His voice was so better now. As if he had forgotten so soon what had happened.
I rose my head and glanced at him, my eyes still wet.
He gave me a weak reassuring smile as if saying, 'everything will be alright' and extended his hand for me.
Reluctantly I took his hand and lifted myself up. As soon as I stood up, my weak body due to both, my cycle and my emotional stress, fell down again but Ibrahim caught me in mid air.
"Easy." He said as he supported me. I put my arm around his shoulder, putting half of my weight on him as we walked to the fire.
The people were sitting around the fire set aflame on a stack of wood, eating and talking in low muffled tones. Some of them had spread their jackets on the damp muddy ground to shield themselves from the cold.
A few women held their hands our in front of the fire to warm themselves up.
However, as soon as they all saw me, they became silent. They stared at me intently with their faces glowing orange due to the fire.
The were all scared of me, I was a mad woman who could do anything if she lost her mind.
Ibrahim supported me with one hand and with the other, he spread his jacket on the ground before directing me to sit on it while all eyes were on us.
Selfishly I ignored the fact that he wasn't wearing anything warm and had sacrificed his jacket for me twice, in that teeth shattering cold.
When I had settled down and Ibrahim had shifted near me on his knees, that is when everyone finally looked away from me and resumed their chatting.
I could hear whispered sentences like, "poor girl" and "she became a widow as soon as she became a wife."
My insides were burning in anger just like that fire was burning outside. I wanted to kill everyone who voiced those words but Ibrahim's hand moved up to my shoulder and he pressed it reassuringly. I glanced at him on my side, his blacks orbs reflecting the golden flickers of the burning embers.
"Eat." He whispered.
Just one word because he knew that words had already hit me like bullets and left holes in my being. I had no strength left to bear more bullets.
My eyes moved to his hands where he was holding a roasted pigeon thigh. It looked like a chicken drumstick with minimal seasoning. He motioned it forward for me and I grabbed it hesitantly.
I brought it closer to my lips and bit it. The meat was hard and different but edible.
Ibrahim didn't utter a word to me while we ate. He gave me some water to drink as well. Turns out they saved the rain water. It was salty, just like the tears that fall out of sad eyes.
We just sat there staring at the golden yellow and orange fire and the smoke that it gave off. However, even that fire somehow reminded me of the person who was missing so I looked away.
Soon everyone went off to pray isha, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I don't know if this is termed as denial but no matter who says that, I won't belive it till I see it myself. Zeyara can not just leave me like that.
The cold was supposed to be freezing me but instead it was burning and the fire was supposed to be burning but instead it was freezing.
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Assalam o alaikum everyone! Sorry for the delay. I had my assessments but the holidays are starting soon so I'll have a lot of time to update!
There wasn't much in this chapter but yeah, that's it. I hope you liked it. (I know you didn't. 😂)
See ya at the next update in sha Allah!
-Muskaan.