The Rebellion Era

Chapter Eleven

                  

I lie on the top bunk, staring at the dim roof till somehow it appears to be jingling. Back in the lane, I would hear stories of how many stars my playdates' fathers drew on their ceilings to help fend the ugly thoughts away and have a peaceful sleep, and would run to father asking him to do the same. He would shake his head every single time like it's my first to ask him and would whisper: "This is vain, my child. You should slumber on your own. Monsters are not invisible, but those who are very well visible and yet revel in their doings." It feels like it was yesterday when he had ushered me away last time and I had sworn never to ask him again. When, in fact, yesterday was the day himself was ushered away. I lost him just a day ago, and the emptiness is just about to swallow me in.

I blink several times to stop the tears from coming. Assem and I must have been declared missing in the lane by now, and everyone is rushing about searching for us. Mrs. Eman must be in a nervous breakdown and mother must be still having faith that I will come back or be found. It is the fiery sensation of intense culpability and guilt that's keeping me awake, and I know no matter how hard I try to overcome it, I will always be troubled, anguished.

I bob my head over the bunk and inspect Sarah. She sleeps in utter peace on the lower bunk. With one hand tucked underneath the pillow, she breathes so smoothly in a way that's completely her own.

I hop out of bed and stumble in the dark towards the door.

The compound is so dingy and gloomy. The majestic chandelier is off, but fading lights for night view is on in case of an emergency wake-up, I assume. They are sufficient to illuminate the stair-case, but the Main Hall is as dark as a starless sky. However, I take down the spiral stair-case, careful with every step until I reach the swallowing darkness of the first floor. I don't know why I came here. I am not sleep-walking but I guess I am searching for something, for someone awake to talk to.

And I guess I just did.

A door remains ajar letting in a cool winter breeze. The heaters here made me forget temporarily about the bitter cold outside, and an instant chill runs down to my toes. I reach to pull my robes closer only to find none and remember I am now dressed in their nightwear. Nothing extravagant; just plain black shirt and trousers. Sarah had fumbled to find me a shirt with sleeves because wearing pants without robes was as much culture-shock as I could bear for a day.

The moonlight shifts, shedding glimmer on my feet.  I look up at the door longingly. I thought I will no longer be able to see the sky upon my own will. Here I am, however, marching to the door that could have never been more inviting.

A fire is lit up in just the angle the door exposes. Blistering flames fly everywhere maniacally with someone's hand on top of it to keep warm. Any happiness soon vanishes when I notice the hands are of those of a man.  It could be Tariq, and I don't know how I will look into his eyes again without being a coward, afraid of brawling with him like a plaguing dwarf.

I wobble through the door's frame and my nerves relax.

Assem's big honey eyes look up at me. He withdraws his arms and buries them in his over-sized jacket. Four stools surround the fire in a camp-like manner. I try to see where we are, but the fire can't extend its periphery further than the bonfire. Maybe this is where they spend their nighttime if they have any. The night sky is so full of stars; you may confuse it as white with black polka dots. Somewhere, so far away, a comet makes its way to earth.

"Why are you up?" I ask, squaring my arms against my chest to excite as much cold as possible.

"Question goes to you, too." He says, without looking up. I sigh and trudge to the bench across from Assem. I almost flinched at the grass scratching at my naked foot. Are we in some sort of forest?