Written In The Scars

Chapter 26

Salma jumped out of bed and rushed to the washroom to make wudhu, cursing herself for falling asleep again. As she lay out the prayer mat, she glanced at the brightening sky from her window, before raising her hands to start. Once she had finished, Salma sighed with relief that she had made it on time, because minutes later, the light of the sun had just leaked through the horizon.

After the wedding had been called off, her foster mother had restricted her from leaving her room during the day, in fear of the judging guests and their running tongues. Salma had thought she was being ridiculous. In the end, the guests never stayed long but that didn't prevent her from going against her foster mother's rule. At least, she didn't have to run around the whole day doing chores!

Instead, her foster father would bring her her breakfast and lunch, sometimes sitting with her for the meal. The connection between them was slowly rekindling but despite Salma accepting his apology, she couldn't look at him the same way again nor could she bandage the father-daughter relationship they once had. They would usually sit in silence, though, sometimes it would be broken by small talk. The isolation didn't bother her much for she was grateful she still had a roof over her head and a warm bed to sleep in.

Just as she made her way back to bed, ready to catch another hour of sleep before the motel was bustling with noise, a spark flashed by the corner of her eyes. Salma whipped her head and peered out of her window in the direction it came. Her eyes hovered to the hut. She had to have imagined it, but just as she was about to look away, the spark came again and Salma witnessed a light bloom from inside the hut.

It couldn't be.

Salma grabbed her sandals and rushed out of the room, careful not to make too much noise as she silently dashed down the stairs. Slipping on her sandals, she exited through the back of the kitchen and headed to the hut. As she got closer, she gasped. There really was light coming from inside.

Could it really be Husaam? Salma's heart began racing at the thought of seeing him again. So much had happened since he left. She grabbed the handle and immediately withdrew her hand feeling sudden wetness on her fingers.

Red colour entered her vision and she gasped, her fingers beginning to tremble. Salma took a step back, afraid of what was waiting behind the door. But then she heard the sound of groaning and before her fear could overcome her, she yanked the door open and stepped inside. A trail of red lead her inside.

On the cold ground lay a figure curled up by the glow of the oil lantern. Red stains soaked through Husaam's tunic and outer coat, and blood leaked from the his fingers clutching an object over his abdomen.

"Husaam?" Salma whispered, her eyes stinging with moisture as she watched the him curl in pain. Salma crept closer and dropped to her knees beside him, brushing the matted hair away from his face.

"Husaam, what happened! H-how did this happen?"

Her eyes hovered to where his hands clutched the embedded weapon. Groans of agony escaped his lips, echoing inside the enclosed space.

"W-wait, I'll be back," Salma stuttered before she leapt up and ran back to the Motel. Her mind was a blur as she raided the kitchen, searching for anything that could be of use. After filling a bowl with water, she rushed back upstairs and scoured her room for any medicinal ointments she had, wrapping the glass bottles in her thin blanket before she headed back down. Water spilt from the bowl, soaking her nightdress as she made her way back to the hut.

Sinking down beside him, she unravelled the blanket and immediately began tearing it into thinner strips. As neatly as she could with her trembling fingers, Salma folded the strips and pressed them around the protruding object, ignoring Husaam's roar of agony.