REMARKABLE

40

Readers discretion advised.

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The sky cried for Yahya Firas as Armineh looked ahead, the rain pelting heavily on the windshield. Maybe, it understood the boiling fury in Yahya Firas's veins.

"What did I do? Armineh, Ask me."

"What did they make you do, Yahya Firas? How did you survive?" Armineh inquired, shakily as she heaved a sigh, she wasn't about to blame him.

"I didn't. I am not suffering from anything. I am breathing with all of it."

The moon was high in the sky as he sat along with Rasheed and two other men on a plunging charpaye. There were other children, too and older men, sitting on other charpoys or on the cool sand of the infertile land, in a circle under the dark sky.

"It's time." Rasheed spoke as he pulled him to his feet and pushed him into a line of children his age."You'll work with them."

Yahya Firas paused, the bile rising in his throat and he pushed the car door, open. The rain fell on him, too, making him wet. He knew he would end up puking his guts, out.

"Let's not talk about it, then," Armineh uttered, behind him.

Yahya could have collapsed if he had to walk even if it was a little bit more but luckily, he found himself on the bus station.

"Why are we here?" He questioned, it was meant to be rhetorical. Yahya was afraid, he had been feeling scared for a while, now. It was new and dark and his dad wasn't there.
"Where are you, dad?" He said, looking heavenward.

"Are you new, here? Do you not know if a person comes here, there is no way to escape." The boy told him, he was older than him and angry, Yahya noticed.

"Chacha Rasheed brought me, here. My dad will come, Chacha Rasheed told me. He'll come to take me." Yahya told him, the same green-eyed boy he had seen on his first day who walked beside him, leisurely.

The boy chuckled, darkly, "I have seen many like you. They all say the same thing at first but then..." He smacked his lips, together.

"I'll advice you to Forget it, forget you had a father or a mother or a house. Doesn't matter where you come from, maybe, they were the ones who sent you, here. This is where you'll live from now on until you die. You better take your own life, Yahya. It will be better than this living hell."

The boy bent over his knees and Yahya jumped away from him as a stick smacked against the small back of green-eyed boy.

"Do you want me to take your tongue out, as well? Where were you when Zakir was being punished?" Yahya fell back.

"Take my own life, he had told me. It will be better than living in this hell. I was so dumb, Armineh. I couldn't even understand the simple meaning of his words, if I did, I would have asked him to kill me on that very dirt path."

His words killed Armineh.

Yahya Firas walked in the line, his forehead creased as the boys walked behind the dingy bus station. Something was amiss.

"Mummy." He mumbled wrapping his arms around himself.

"They'll pay you. Don't forget the payment, I'll come to take you, all in the morning. We'll see who gets served, tomorrow." The man said, standing at the threshold, gripping the stick in his hands.

They walked and then, halted. The first boy had puked, he continued as if nothing had happened, entering the first room, size of Yahya's washroom at home on the right side. He found himself leading the line as he was pushed to climb the dirty stairs. Yahya pinched his nose, unable to bear the pungent smell as he skipped over the suspicious stains.