Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 68

I lean against the wall the moment they are out of my sight, my hand on my pounding chest. It is him, the boy Raheesh used to torture me, the boy who he kept calling Azar, the boy who believed I could save him from Raheesh's beatings. It is as if it was yesterday that he was begging me, holding onto me with his life as he pled:

"He told me you can make it all okay. You decide my fate... whether I live or die. Is everything going to be okay?"

I can almost see Raheesh smiling maliciously at me because just like him, I made a kid scream. The whole orphanage has by now woken up. The kids are peering out of their dorms, but upon seeing me, they go back inside.

Ms. Neela and a teacher, whose name I can't remember, are by my side. "What happened?" the teacher asks with a mixture of concern and curiosity, but I can't seem to utter a single word.

"I think Abeer needs rest," Ms. Neela says apprehensively and supports me by wrapping an arm around my shoulder and steering me back upstairs.

"The kid..." I begin to say to her once we are alone, but I can't compose myself. I drop my face into my hands, trying my best not to cry.

Ms. Neela rubs my shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry too much, Abeer. He will be okay."

"I didn't see him in the files," I say, trying to clear my head. "I didn't know he was here."

Ms. Neela frowns. "I don't understand. You know the kid? Which one is talking about?"

"Yes, Ms. Neela. I know him, the kid with the green eyes," I manage to say. "He was... he was abducted and beaten in front of me. Raheesh..."

Comprehension dawns upon her face. "Oh. The police have been searching for his background for a while now. He doesn't talk at all. We mainly hired a counselor because of him. The only time we get to hear his voice is when he screams. Don't take it on your heart, Abeer. He is just a disturbed, little kid. It was nothing personal."

No matter how much I want to say, I can't tell her that it is indeed personal. I know the look he gave me. I know the terror in his eyes. He recognized me. Guilt gnaws at me, but I just nod and lie, "You are right. I just need a little rest."

"Yeah, it has been a long day for you," she adds kindly as she walks towards the door.

"Wait," I stop her. "What is the boy's name?" I ask her and for a second, I think it is really going to be Azar.

"We don't really know his name," Ms. Neela admits, "but we call him Hussain."

I let myself be overwhelmed the moment Ms. Neela goes. Why? Oh, why? Oh, Allah, please give me the strength to deal with this.

It is not your fault, I try to tell myself. You had tried to help the kid, but all I can think of is his scream and the way he looked at me. What else I expected him to do? He was tortured. He was made to believe you were responsible. Wasn't I responsible though? I swallow the lump in my throat as the thought rises. Wasn't I the reason Raheesh hit him? To haunt me? For Raheesh, haunting the kid was an added bonus.

I feel revolted at the thought. Breathe, I tell myself. I attempt to open the balcony door, but it's locked. I go downstairs and hear voices from the warden's room. I head in the opposite direction towards the backyard.

I pace on the footpath for a little while, putting every effort to focus just on my breathing. For a minute or so, I stand at the edge, looking at the clouds drifting in the sky.

It is fine. It is okay. "He will be okay," I whisper to myself. "In Sha Allah."

And then, out of nowhere, Azar appears. My instinct is to scream, but he keeps his hand over my mouth and shushes me. I stop struggling, though feeling ambushed. I must be staring at Azar as he moves back instantly. I can't believe he is actually here. It's only been a day since he left.