As The World Around Me Falls
WhatGraceHasGiven
Summary: First story posted under The Kite Runner category! Adds an OC character, an American girl, and mainly focuses on Amir and Hassan as children.
Disclaimer: I am not making money off of writing this. If I was, why would I be babysitting the demons next door? I only own Cadence, her parents, and anyone you don't recognize.
Warnings: Not many, just spoilers, I suppose. So, if you haven't read the entire book, I wouldn't suggest reading this just yet.
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"Amir, Salaam, congratulations on winning the tournament! That blue kite didn't know what hit him!" I found Amir walking amidst stands, most of them closed or preparing to be closed. Hassan was not with him and my heart sank. That's who I was looking for. Hassan. Not Amir. To be frank, I never really liked Amir; I put up with him because my mother said it was respectful, but sometimes, I couldn't help but hate Amir and the way he picked on Hassan.
"Salaam. Thank you." Was all he said. He went back to looking around.
"Have you seen Hassan?" I figured getting to the point would do better than just dilly-dallying. Though I had been in Afghanistan for several years, customs still weren't apparent to me; I was learning a little more every day, sometimes painfully or embarrassingly. My parents were reporters for the Tribune in New York and their boss sent them to Afghanistan to cover some story I knew nothing about. Three years later, we're still here and my parents are still reporting.
"I was just looking for him."
I took that as a "no."
An idea dawned on me. "Want to split up? We could probably find him faster that way, anyhow."
Amir nodded. "I can take this way." He thumbed the direction in which he had been heading when I first came upon him.
I nodded and pointed out the way I was going to go. I wasn't all that familiar with Afghan streets and turns and buildings yet, even three years later, but nothing was as perplexing as it had been my first day. The way Amir was going would probably be the easiest way for me, but I said nothing and started walking.
It was getting pretty dark and I started to worry when I didn't find Hassan. True, he was born and raised here, he knew the streets, and all those things you know when you're native to a place. But Hassan was my best friend. It was natural to worry.
"Hassan?" I called, walking slowly. The streets were hushed. I felt weird and intrusive to be the only one that loud.
"Hassan, where are you?"
The only reply I received was an echo…you-you-you-you?
I must have wandered for half an hour at least, forty-five minutes to an hour at the most, searching for my friend. As it has a tendency to do when I'm alone, my brain wandered. It wandered to my first day here. I was so darn nervous. It wasn't like moving to a new school (I knew how that felt) or being a new member on a sports team. It was whole different continent! I was thousands of miles away from Manhattan. Hassan and his father, Ali, were the first people I remember meeting.
Hassan had greeted me with a smile and had swung his arms around my neck in a hug. Warm and friendly were my first thoughts of him. And…
My thoughts were interrupted by laughter and the thud, thud, thud of shoes on earth. I had been mainly alone in my search for Hassan. This new noise startled me. It had been somewhat distant noises before, but they drew closer. And then talk was blended in with the laughter. I didn't understand their talk, save a few words: stop…stupid…not a sin…only a Hazara…
Hazara.
Hassan was Hazara.
I backtracked the way I had come. The laughter was gone. Not even carried by the wind anymore. No echoes. Nothing. I'd bet anything that Amir had gone home, given up looking for Hassan. Or maybe he had found Hassan and they were looking for me, or they had just gone back home. No. Hassan wouldn't let Amir leave me out here alone, especially at night. Looking back on it, Amir never would have left me either.
"Hassan? Amir?"
I was back where I had started, where I had split ways with Amir. And, finally, after what seemed like eternities of hearing my own voice, I heard: "Hanan."
Hanan was my name, given to me by Hassan and Amir. It meant something like mercy or compassion or something. I didn't want to confuse them with Cadence, my real name, so I let them call me whatever they wanted—anything appropriate, that is. It had taken me days, weeks, to answer to that instead of Cadence.
I turned immediately, used to the name after three years. It was dark by then, but I didn't need the sunlight to know Hassan was there. Amir, too. "Ah, I've been all over looking for you." I said. It seemed like I was speaking to both of them, but it was directed to Hassan.
I was getting closer to them, but I stopped.
Something wasn't quite right.
"Is something wrong?" I asked. Amir looked completely stricken, attempting to hide the feeling behind a mask of annoyance. Even at twelve-years-old, I was a good people-reader. Amir was clutching the kite he had beaten and I knew Hassan had retrieved it. He was the best kite runner. Amir looked like he was going to cry and that made me worried for some reason, so I shifted my eyes to Hassan's face.
And I froze.
"Hassan…?" I couldn't get the words out.
Pain was written on his face…and something else…no, many other things. Too many to read. But pain was the first one I saw.
"Lets go." Amir urged and I could have smacked him. But I didn't. I heeded my mother. And we walked home in silence.