Alnihayya

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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.