Written In The Scars

Chapter 11

The bleeding wouldn't stop. No matter how much pressure he applied, warm red liquid still managed to seep through his fingers. 

He shouldn't have taken the dagger out, for all it left behind was a gaping hole. The hole he created. Tears flooded his youthful features, salty droplets falling onto the body cradled on his lap.

"Abbas," his friend smiled.

"No, don't speak. It will hurt you," the Prince pleaded through sobs. "I didn't want to hurt you, I never intended to,"

"I know you didn't," said the boy, as the colour on his face seeped away. Blood soaked the Prince's clothes, but the Prince couldn't care less, only wishing for the blood to magically return back to his friend's cold body.

"I'm so sorry," the young Prince cried, willing for the strength in his legs to return. "Why-why did you do this, I could have gotten help,"

"It would be too late," the boy replied, before a cough rattled his body, blood splattering the Prince's face. His once-bright smile was now bathed in red.

"Please don't hate me," the boy rasped, making the Prince sob more. "I didn't want to kill you...but my brother-"

"I would never hate you...you are my best friend," he bawled, earning a sincere smile from his friend.

"Abbas, I couldn't have thanked Allah enough for giving me a best friend like you," the boy said, his own tears falling from his eyes.

"Please don't die," the Prince urged, feeling the strength in his arms leave him as well.

"Shh..." the boy hushed, slowly bringing his hand to cup the Prince's cheek, and the Prince, witnessed the light from his friend's eyes disappear.

"I can't see," the boy laughed.

"No," the Prince screamed. "Someone help, please!"

"It's no use," the boy chanted, his voice almost a whisper. 

The Prince felt the world spin before the floor met his head. Cold blood soaked his hair and the side of his face, unable to get up. His vision became blurred and he stretched out his arm to search for his friend's.

"You must find the-" his friend breathed but his sentence never finished.

The Prince broke out hysterically sobbing. "Junayd-"

The light sleeper awoke to the sounds of muffled words that whispered through the dark encompassing their room. Haifa rubbed at her eyes, willing for them to adjust, before dragging herself up. The whimpers came again.

"Abbas?" she called for her dear husband, unable to spot him through the blanket of darkness. Slowly, Haifa focused her eyes on the table beside her, almost making out the figure of the candle lamp. She patted for the matches, and found them, before blindly lighting them.

A burst of yellow embraced the room, shooing away the evils of the night. The pleading continued, and she confirmed them to be coming from the sleeping figure beside her. Haifa shuffled closer to the Prince and with the little light she had, she folded her knees under her and examined his features. His whole body trembled, and his head shook, making the beads of sweat around his hairline drip off.

"Abbas, what's wrong?" Haifa asked in a low voice, wishing not to startle him out of sleep. But his eyes remained clamped shut, incomprehensible words escaping his lips. She patted his shoulder and even shook it lightly but the horrible visions that caused him to act this way, wouldn't let him free.