Last night's episode was wow. Still not over it. Lots of emotions :[
Writing style inspired by 13letters, who wrote "The Sky Was Grey" so beautifully that I had to try it out.
Fear twists her stomach with despair, ties it into knots and squeezes so hard she feels like she can't breathe. Ihab Rashid would never let her go. His arm presses against her throat as though he himself would slowly draw the life from her lungs. He tells her father he wants him to suffer in agony like he has. The fear only boils, and she wonders if she had ever been so afraid in her life. The hope dwindles.
Emma panics, pulls at his arm hard so that she might breathe. But he's stronger than her.
She wonders what her father looks like right now, her mother, her brother. She wonders what their lives will be like without her, what fears they would share at the table. She wonders where they might go, what they might do, all the things they would see without her.
Sammy is laughing, covered in sand and sweat and dirt. His hair is hiding his face but she swears there will be a bruise on his forehead tomorrow. Their mother would never have it, but it was just an accident! She didn't mean to push him so hard on the skateboard. She didn't mean for him to fall on the sidewalk. She only wanted to see him go faster.
"It's okay," Sammy says, and he takes her hand in his. "I won't tell mom."
Her father nearly trips over his feet when she tells him she got in huge trouble. "You threw rocks at someone in school?" He chastises, his frown deepening the lines of his face. He tries to find any falsehood in that small slip of paper, and she can see the way his face twists and grimaces as he reads on. It looks so bad, Emma thinks, but it makes her laugh even harder when turns to her with that disappointed look on his face.
"April fools!" She shouts joyfully, and her father shakes his head, smiling. He tells her she's grounded and she believes him, but then the joke is on her, and they both end up laughing together.
Her mother is smiling when she catches her going through the makeup drawer. "And what are you getting into this time?"
Emma nearly jumps from her skin because her mother was supposed to be at work, not here! And it wasn't like she left her drawer a mess anyway. It didn't matter now, though, because she was definitely in trouble.
Her mother smiles and says it's okay and Emma isn't quite sure what to do. "Lipstick is my favorite," she says. "Do you want to try it?"
Emma nods lightly; a small smile reaches the corners of her lips.
Her mother tousles her hair, hands her a bright shade of red lipstick and shows her how to use it. But Emma drops it in a clumsy effort to hold it right, and now there's red all over her hands and dress.
"I'm sorry Mama," she starts to sob because now she would never get to be a princess like all the pretty girls in her favorite books.
"Emma," her mother sighs. The blood seeping from her stomach is ruining everything. "Don't you worry, sweetie."
She's trying to breathe, but it's so hard. The world around her feels so cold, colder than the winters in California, colder than the snow and rain and frost when they go north to spend the weekend in Washington. She reaches for her stomach, feels the heat pouring from her skin, and everything hurts so bad. She wants to cry out for her mother, her father, for Sammy, but the ground is pulling her down and she chokes. Her mouth tastes like blood.
She hears her mother sobbing. Papa is there too, brushing his fingers through her hair, singing like he always did when she cried. His hair is white and his eyes are sad, sadder than she'd ever seen. She can hear her heart beating, struggling, as light as the sound of a feather when it falls. She wants to close her eyes, but she's afraid. She doesn't want to believe that there's nothing but darkness anymore. She doesn't want to be alone. Not yet. Not when there's so much left to see. But the world is so far away and she feels herself growing light, whisked away by the breeze, letting go. The sky is growing dimmer, pulling her with it, calling her name. The blood that slips through her fingers feels so cold. Her father is whispering in her ear, telling her that it will be alright, that they'll see each other again soon. Her mother is holding her hand and crying and whispering too. I love you baby.
It doesn't hurt anymore. The sound of her father's humming drowns out the sounds of the people, and her mouth doesn't take like blood any longer.