In the last chapter, Saria met Amir and Hassan for the first time. She was instantly taken by Amir, developing her very first "crush" on the boy. An attempt to sway him to her side proved favourable in her eyes when he lashed out at Hassan. Now, we find that the events of that day still way heavily on Saria's mind, perhaps to her detriment...

Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of my readers, from all over the world. Any bit of support means the world to me. Again, please do be aware that I do not condone the thoughts, feelings and actions of the characters within this story, it is merely a work of fiction.

I do not own anything pertaining to the Kite Runner. Any characters, plot points and settings within the original novel are the property of Khaled Hosseini. I only claim ownership thus far of my original characters.

Without further ado, the next chapter! Please enjoy!


November 27th. I know I don't often transcribe the dates of my memoirs, but in this case, I simply must. I remember everything that happened this day with the utmost clarity. It is a day that brought about so many, conflicting emotions. Shame, fear, anger and terror. The events of this day are those that I will never, ever forget - and when you read what happened to me in its entirety, then you will come to understand why.

Days had passed since my interaction with Amir and Hassan, but still, my encounter with them was all I could think of. I played those events over and over in my mind, replaying them like a record on a loop. The memory of that day was at the forefront of my thoughts, more so than I ever expected it would. I scrutinised over the details like scenes from a film. Hoping that I could gain answers to the questions that permeated my brain. The main focus of my thoughts, of my rather confusing feelings, was, of course, none other than Amir.

I had never felt the way I did for Amir towards anyone else before. The butterflies in my stomach, the way my hair stood on end. The sweat coating my palms, my heart beating rapidly at the sight of him. The world appeared to fall away when first I laid eyes upon Amir. I had not been expecting to feel that way for him, most certainly not. After all, my only real introduction to Amir were the tales my brother had shared with me about the boy. His less than favourable opinions on Amir. I'd expected to feel nothing more than hatred for him. But it was far different from that. Far, far different.

He was so quiet, so timid, so... so nervous. That was why his treatment of Hassan confused me so much. From the stories Assef told me, those boys were as thick as thieves, close as brothers. Two friends who did everything together, for whom their status difference meant little to nothing. Why, just mere moments before we had approached them, they were walking with linked arms, laughing in jest and casually talking. How it disgusted me to even think about that. But was that not evidence that there was a deep bond forged between the two?

Or... at least, that was what I'd thought. For nothing brought me more confusion than the harshness with which Amir treated Hassan. I replayed that moment again and again. Amir changing his mind, not wanting to go see that Western with Hassan any longer. His face contorting in rage, hand lifting up to bat Hassan away from him like a disobedient pet. The cruel words that he'd yelled, literally yelled, at the Hazara boy. To be perfectly honest, it reminded me somewhat of how my brother and I spoke to Hamilra. Well, perhaps less harsh, but still. Not too different, was it?

I wondered if I had anything to do with Amir's reaction. Not two seconds ago I was talking to the boy, manipulating him, telling him that he ought to have better friends than his servant. Acting like I felt sorry for his friendless predicament - which, in all honesty, I did. Offering him compassion, care, and a listening ear. In truth, I may have come across a little tactless, but it was all for a higher cause in the end, was it not? It was all to bring Amir over to my side. To our side. To the right side.

Alas, while I may have liked Amir, yearned to create a future with him, I was not naive. I knew that there was much work to be done on the boy. I could not hope to fantasise about any sort of relationship or, dare I say it, the prospects of marriage, with Amir without first getting to the root of any issues that may crop up between him and I. After all, our differences were huge - these were not changes of opinion that could be brushed under the carpet. They were major, major issues. How could I hope to develop true feelings for a Hazara sympathizer?

But then... was he really a Hazara sympathizer? Did he really care for Hassan as the latter did for him? His treatment seemed to indicate the complete opposite. It was... strange. Amir did not appear to me to be the type of person who would treat anyone that way, much less his "best friend". He was not a bully, that much was evident. Even as he was saying the words, I could see that he was regretting them. He felt guilty, he didn't like being mean to Hassan. But mean to him he had been, and he could not take it back.

I pictured his face again, wondering if there was anything that I could recall that would give me a better explanation for Amir's true feelings. There was just... something in him that I admired. A hidden fire that lurked behind the timid, unsure nature. He may have been a coward to everyone else, but to me, I couldn't help but to wonder if there was a bravery in there that not even he knew about. Bravery... and darkness...

He may not have wanted to be so rude to Hassan, hell, he may have regretted it instantaneously afterwards, but all the same, that had been his first reaction. Did that not say quite a bit about him? In any case, I knew that I wanted to help him. If there was a darkness in Amir, then I would be the one to coax it out of him. I would be right by his side, guiding him, teaching him. Putting him on the right path, leading him. I would reach into his soul, pull out the darkest parts of it and show him that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with it. I would be his blessed and shining beacon of light, just as my Assef is for me.

Speaking of Assef, my brother was trying to get my attention. "Saria?" he asked, waving his hand in front of my face. "Saria, Liebchen, can you hear me? Are you with me?" He paused, trying to look into my eyes. "Penny for your thoughts, little sister?"

Assef and I were seated across from each other at a desk in his bedroom. A deck of cards spread out in front of us. We were playing a game of panjpar, a popular card game here in Afghanistan. It was one of my favorite card games - though, I must admit that I was not the best at it. Rather, I bet I'd lost more games than I won against my brother, but he was so good at it that I doubt anyone could compete with him.

It was lashing rain outside. Not an uncommon feature of the weather here during the winter months - though for it to rain as heavily as it did that day was somewhat abnormal. Droplets fell liberally to the ground, hitting the gravel outside with that oh-so-familiar sloshing noise. I turned my head to look out, seeing grey clouds blanketing the sky for what appeared to be miles and miles. Watching the rain was almost peaceful to me, I could just let my thoughts wash over me, just as the precipitation washed everything clean outside.

My brother and I were alone in the house once more. I doubt that you're surprised, after all, how often were Mahmood and Tanya ever with us? If I didn't know any better, I'd say they wanted to avoid us. But that was of no matter, we wanted to avoid them too, did we not? This time, it was not a business meeting that kept our parents from being with their children. No, rather, it was a visit to Tanya's sister, Stella, who lived in Pakistan.

Stella and Tanya didn't often spend time with one another. Despite being sisters, they were not all too close in their relationship. I rarely if ever heard my mother talk about her sister, and the last time I'd seen Khala Stella was way back when I was a little girl - and she and her family had come down to visit us during Eid celebrations. Now, part of me wondered why Mahmood and Tanya had decided to go and visit them now, but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. It really didn't matter, after all. Let them go, it bothered me not one bit. I was happy to be with my Assef, and nothing else mattered.

Just outside the closed bedroom door, I was made aware of the sounds of Hamilra's cleaning. Her sweeping brush moving up and down the hall, the sounds of her labored breathing and her footsteps echoing. This morning, Assef had given her the task of tidying up the entire house. From top to bottom, he'd said, and he'd made it abundantly clear what would happen to her if she didn't do exactly as ordered. Hamilra was suffering from a splitting headache, a migraine that she'd been dealing with from the moment she woke up this morning. Assef and I cared nothing for that, though. She was our property and it was her duty to clean up and tend to our every need, was it not?

"Saria?" Assef repeated. He tapped his hand against the wooden table, clicking his fingers over and over again to get my attention. "Saria, Liebchen, are you with me?" he asked, "Earth to Saria!"

Finally, I broke free from the confines of my thoughts. Turning my head away from the window, I faced my brother, with an apologetic look written upon my features. I gave him a sheepish gaze, looking down for a moment before focusing my entire attention upon him once again. "I'm sorry, Assef, I've been elsewhere, as you can no doubt tell. Would you repeat yourself, brother? Please?"

Assef laughed. "Penny for your thoughts, sister?" he asked again, "you seem to be having a lot of them, you've drifting in and out since first we began our card game." He lifted up his own deck, holding them in such a way that I could not see what exact cards he held, though I had the feeling that they were the better deck than mine. "You know, you're going to lose this game of panjpar. Yet again."

I looked down at the cards in my hand. Indeed, I had selected the lesser deck. My numbers were against me, no doubt if we continued to play, Assef would come out the victor of this game. But... in all truth, I cared not for this. This game meant little to me. I guess my heart just wasn't really in it at the time. A shaky laugh escaped me as I lifted up a hand, running it through my golden curls. I placed the cards down, face up on the table where my brother could see them. A symbol that I was not interested and that I wished the game to end.

"It matters not," I said, pushing the cards away. "I'm not really feeling up to it at the moment, Assef jan. I guess... I guess I just have too much on my mind. There is too much at stake for me to put any of my focus into a card game. Mayhaps we can try again at a later stage. Right now..." I looked out at the rain once more, "right now, as I say, I am just dealing with too much to concentrate."

"Oh." Assef got up from out of his seat. He moved around next to my chair and knelt down in front of me, placing a hand on my knee. His gaze was compassionate, empathetic and loving, as it always was when it came to me. He rubbed his hand over mine, gently rubbing it with his thumb. "I figured there was something up. Is there anything that you wish to talk to me about, Liebchen?" He tilted my chin up and made me look at him in the eye. "This isn't about Adia again, is it? You know there's no point in concerning yourself on that matter."

I shook my head. How I wished that Adia was the cause of my concern, at least then I would know more in-depth the reasons behind my problems. But she was not. She had been far, far from my thoughts. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, sighing. "It's not Adia," I said, looking at my brother with a half-smile. "I wish it was, but it isn't. It..." A pause. What was I meant to say? How was I meant to voice these thoughts? "Really, it's nothing of true importance, I've just been having some thoughts lately."

Assef looked at me, arching a brow. "Would you care to share them with me?" How I tried to focus myself, but my brain betrayed me. The minute Assef asked me that, I was instantly met by yet another mental image of Amir. I thought back to his poetic hazel eyes and that timid smile of his, and I could not stop myself from turning fire engine red. Assef reached up and poked me in the ribs - my most ticklish spot - causing me to squirm away and giggle. "You see? You see?" he teased, "that most certainly does not sound like "nothing of importance". Come on, tell me what's on your mind."

What would be the harm in it? If nothing else, Assef might be able to help me figure out what to do here. He of all people would be able to understand my feelings, be able to help me out when it came to these plans of mine. We could work on converting Amir together, it could be yet another part of our deep sibling bond. I told Assef everything, so this would be no different. Oh, how hindsight is twenty-twenty in these matters!

"Well, if you insist on knowing." I hesitated for but a moment, before breathing out the name of the young man who had so recently captured my heart. "I was... I've been thinking about Amir Qadiri. About what happened when we met him last week. Do you remember?"

Of course he remembered it. That day had made an impact on his mind too, though not at all the same impact that it had on mine. Assef no doubt had forgotten completely about the entire thing. Well, now, his little sister would bring these ideas back for him. He quirked a brow. "Amir Qadiri?" he asked, removing his hand from off of my knee. I nodded. "Well, tell me, what about him? Why is someone like that on your mind?"

Once more, my teeth found their way onto my lip, biting down upon it. I looked down. My cheeks started to heat up, my heart fluttering. I closed my eyes and tried to formulate a coherent answer. "Uhm... uh... ah..." Tried being the most operative word here. So many thoughts ran akimbo through my mind, yet I was unable to make sense of any one of them enough to formulate a response for my brother. "Well... There's something about him, you know? Something... something that I saw within him."

"Something within him," Assef repeated, slowly, as though trying to understand what, exactly, I was talking about. He repeated the words under his breath, letting them sit on his tongue. "If by 'something' you mean a pathetic inability to act in any way like a man and an utterly disgusting love for Hazaras, then yes, there is definitely something within that piece of shit. But judging by the look on your face, that is not what you're talking about, is it, Saria?"

No, no, certainly that was not the thoughts that permeated my mind when I thought of Amir. I didn't even want to think of him as a "piece of shit". It felt... wrong, to refer to a boy that I was developing these feelings of compassion and, dare I say it, love, for. Not that I didn't agree with Assef's perception of Amir was correct though, and there were flaws in him that could not be permitted to remain. Still... "No, actually. I think... I think there's potential in him. I think that I could, if I put effort into it, change him. There's something there, Assef, and I want to cultivate him. So that he can come over to our side."

Assef scoffed. "And why, tell me, why do you want that? Why would you want someone like that over on our side? You think he could even understand things from our point of view?"

I looked at my feet once again, focusing my attention on my shoes as though they were the most interesting things in all the world. My hands found the hem of my dress and began to absently play with it, shifting from left to right on the chair. "I... I kind of..." I began, trailing off... "I sort of... I mean... well..." Fucking hell, this was getting ridiculous. "I kind of... ah... like him. You know, like... in that... way."

There, I'd said it. Admitted to my brother the feelings that I'd hesitated to even admit to myself. There was no going back now. Someone else, another living, breathing person - the most important living, breathing person - knew of my crush on Amir. Knew that I harbored romantic tendencies for the boy. I could no longer deny them, could no longer hide behind false platitudes or dare to convince myself otherwise.

Ah, but this did not make it any easier. My stuttering response made that clear. Fuck, I thought, turning fire engine red, burying my face in my hands, and letting out tremors of awkward giggles, I sound like a complete moron. This is why girl's don't talk about these things with their brothers, it's embarrassing. I can barely even get a word in without feeling weird about it. Yet, who else can I turn to? Who else can I go to for advice? Assef knows me so much better than anyone else, does he not? Even if he does not understand, at least he will be on my side. There is no need to be ashamed of this, right? Right?

My brother didn't respond. I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. He looked down at the ground, then back up at me. He rose to his feet and began to pace back and forth around the room. It was if he didn't hear a word of what I'd just said. Had he even been listening to me? Or had I just blurted out this embarrassing anecdote for no reason whatsoever? "Uhm..." I began, "Assef? Say something, brother, otherwise I've made a right fool of myself for nothing. What are you thinking?"

Assef rolled his eyes skyward, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest and barked out a laugh. Not unlike the kind of noise that he'd made when talking to Amir and Hassan. As though he were making a mockery of his little sister. He lifted his arms up, then let them fall to his sides. "Do you mean that?" he asked, genuinely curious. Before I could even get a word in edge-ways, he answered his own question. "No, no, you can't be serious. This has to be a joke, you're trying to be funny. You are..." He chortled again, "well, I must say, you've done your job then. Very fucking funny, sister."

I clenched my fists, rising from the chair and glaring daggers at my brother. "Assef, really? I let my feelings be known to you and your response is to laugh at me? You stand there and roll your eyes at me, telling me that what I think is meaningless? That what is in my heart means nothing, is that what are you telling me? You're making a fool of me, is that what's going on?" I had to remind myself not to lose my temper. Not with Assef; for him I would remain calm. "For your information, yes, I'm being honest here. I'm being very fucking honest. I do have feelings towards Amir."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Assef gaped at me, staring like he were viewing me for the first time. As if I'd just sprouted wings and taken flight out of the window. He ran his hand down the length of his face, at least twice, bringing it up once more to rub his temples. The look on his face was nothing short of frustrated, if that were the correct word to describe it. "Seriously, Liebchen? Amir Qadiri... of all the people that you could have feelings for? Of all the boys in Kabul that you could fall for, you choose him? That kunis? Damn it, damn it, when the fuck did your standards get so goddamn low?!"

Now this, this was beginning to piss me off. Who the fuck did Assef think he was, to pass judgement upon me, to dare to make light of my emotions as though they were nothing? No, I would not remain idle and allow myself to be spoken to in such a deplorable way, not even by my own brother. He of all people I expected to treat me with the respect that I deserved. Drawing myself up to my full 4'0 height, I fixed Assef with the meanest glare I could form and let myself be heard.

"No, actually, my standards haven't gotten low at all. They remain as high as they have ever been. And yes, I do have feelings for Amir. Am I a fool for believing that there may be potential for him to change. That there could well be more within him than just a 'Hazara-loving kunis,' as you like to refer to him as. You were there with me, too, were you not? You saw how he treated Hassan? You saw Amir's reaction to my words. I gave him something to think about, and perhaps with a bit of luck and work from me, he will learn to heed our truth." I threw up my hands and rolled my eyes. "But regardless, my feelings for Amir are my own, so I do not need you passing judgement upon me. I thought you were on my side."

Assef snapped back, jabbing a finger at me. "Well, if you didn't want me to know then you wouldn't have fucking told me in the first place, would you? You'd have kept your thoughts to yourself and not discussed with me this ridiculous plan of yours." Ridiculous? That was what he thought of me? That was the word he used to describe my ideas? My brother paced up and down across the room, his footsteps echoing as they stamped on the carpet. "Fuck this, Saria, you're too damn young to be thinking this way. You're only eleven-years-old."

Oh, now that lit a fire under my ass! If there was one thing I could not stand it was being treated as lesser than because of my age. Treated like some petulant child who did not know her own mind. I dealt with that kind of shit from Mahmood and Tanya so often, and I was not going to let my brother act the same way towards me. Assef would not, I repeat not, be allowed to speak to me in that way. Brother or not, I was going to defend myself!

"Too young?" I barked. "I'm too young? Is that how you see me? Some foolish child who doesn't know her own mind? Just a little girl who ought to be playing with her dolls? Huh? Huh?!" I laughed, taking a step closer to my brother. "I certainly was not 'too young' when you decided to expose me to violence or when you talk to me about wiping out the Hazaras. But now that I might have feelings for a boy, you decide to be the overprotective big brother and chastise me? Fuck that, Assef, fuck that! You know I'm more mature and more intelligent than other girls my age! And I'm not talking about running off to marry Amir right now, am I? No, no. I only want to work on him. To change him. Don't you always say that everything would be better if we had more people on our side? And now that I plan to do just that, you have a problem with it?!"

To his credit, Assef hadn't interrupted my entire tirade. He just remained where he was, blue eyes flickering, fists clenched and unclenched. When I was done, when the last word spewed forth out of my lips, he walked even closer to me so that we were both nose to nose. "I don't have a problem with trying to get people around to our ideology, if you'd listen for a fucking minute you'd understand that. I have a problem, Saria, and now I'm going to speak slowly so that this gets through your head - because - Amir. Isn't. Good. Enough. For. You."

If I had been annoyed before, now I was fuming. How dare he tell me what to do? How dare he try to tell me who was good for me or not? My brother was meant to respect my decisions, to be with me, to support me. Not turn against me for them. He had no right to belittle me, no right at all! With fists clenched, and my chest rising and falling rapidly, I let myself be heard. "And what gives you the right to dictate what is and isn't good enough for me? What makes you of all people some fucking moral authority on what is and isn't acceptable for me to think, say, or do? Am I not permitted to make my own decisions any more, is that it?"

"Calm it, Saria Adelah, if you would just let me explain-"

To this day, I do not know what, out of all the factors that might have contributed to my reaction, was truly the one thing that made me respond in the way that I did. Maybe it was being talked to like an infant, maybe it was being scolded for doing absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe it was the use of my middle name - something that usually only our parents did to belittle and scold me - being used by Assef to make me submit to his authority. Maybe it was all of those things combined. Either way, the active volcano that was Saria Ahmed exploded her rage like molten lava.

"Oh, shut your FUCKING mouth, Assef! Stop telling me what to do! NOBODY tells me what to do. And if you don't understand that, then guess what, you are no better than Mahmood."

There is crossing the line. There is bulldozing over the line. And then, then there is taking an atomic, nuclear bomb and destroying not only the line, but everything that stood on either side of it. Right then and there, I did the latter. Of all the things I could have said. Of all the nasty, horrible, vile, deplorable things I could have said to my brother, of all the ways I could have hurt him, that may well be the absolute worst one. To compare him to our father, to say that he, the person who loved me, protected me, cherished and guided me in all ways, was remotely like the father who neglected and beat us, was just... oh, I cannot even reminisce on this moment without wanting to vomit from guilt.

What was wrong with me?! To an outside party, Assef seemed to have no reaction whatsoever. His face was expressionless. But I knew that my words had cut him deeply. I'd hurt him, possibly in the worst way. Possibly in an unforgivable way. In that moment, all anger drained from me, leaving me with nothing more than an unbridled and unadulterated feeling of remorse and shame. "Assef," I whispered, "Assef... I... I didn't mean..."

I tried to reach out for him but he slapped my hand away. "I'm like Mahmood, am I?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "I mean, wow, I never even considered that... thank you, little sister, for letting me know what you really think of me. I'm having trouble recalling the last time I ever laid my hands upon you or whipped you with my damn belt or anything of the sort, but I guess to you I'm no better than that scumbag."

"No, no, that's not-" I started, but he was not about to let me get out a word in my defence. Not that there was any kind of defence for what I'd just done.

"Ah, but if I'm like Mahmood, sister, then you.. you are Tanya Ahmed's little mini me, aren't you?" I gasped, hands flying up to cover my mouth. Was this what became of us now? Comparing each other to the parents that we hated so much? Dear God, how could this be? Assef wasn't done yet. He poked me violently in the chest. "Yeah, that's right. You are JUST like Tanya. Exactly like her, in fact. A pathetic, annoying, and infuriating little BITCH!"

My eyes widened, filling to the brim with tears. I hated myself for that, for showing weakness in a time when I should be strong. When I ought not to display even the moment of trepidation around my brother. This was not the moment to wet my cheeks, nor to be consumed by the guilt that was already threatening to beat me up from the inside out. Assef wanted to start war, to throw back disrespect? Then, why should I not oblige his desire?

I picked up the cards from off the table and hurled them across the room, narrowly missing Assef's ear by inches. They crashed to the floor and lay there, scattered. My breathing was laboured and ragged. I punched my fist into my thigh. "Is that how we think of each other?" I asked, perhaps more to myself than him. "Are we nothing more than a byproduct of our parents?" Assef didn't respond. I pounded the floor with my foot, once, twice, three times. "You stand there and act like you're so much FUCKING better than I, that you know more based on what? AGE? You think of me as some simple-minded little girl, you son of a bitch? Have you ALWAYS seen me as being like Tanya? Then you must hate the very sight of me."

Assef clapped mockingly. "Ah, see, not as idiotic as you look," he sneered. "Of course. Looking at you right now makes me sick. You can't let me be for five minutes. You cling to me like some pathetic little infant that can't do a damn thing for herself. I can't even STAND be around you right now. In fact..." He walked over to the door, throwing it open with such force that it cracked off the wall, almost coming off of its hinges. "Get the hell out, and stay the hell out."

Somebody else might've heeded his words, might have left immediately after that. But I was not just anyone. Time for me to stand my ground again. I rooted myself into the carpet, as though glued there. If Assef wanted me to leave, he would have to drag me out of there, because I was not about to go. Fuck that shit! I wasn't going to kowtow to his every whim, and if he thought that, well then, he could go fuck himself and I truly meant that.

"You have no right to tell me what to do, Assef," I retorted, "you want me to get out? You want me to leave? You'll have to make me, and I am not joking when I say that. Come on, if you hate me as much as you say that you do, then let's have it. Hit me, you do it to everyone else. Because I won't leave, I won't. And if you DARE try to fight against me, I'll damn well prove that I'm not the pathetic bitch you claim me to be."

That speech may have been courageous, but on the inside, I was petrified. I hated myself, and worst of all, I hated Assef. My hands shook, and I hid them within the pockets of my dress. I was trying to appear as though I held no fear, but quite frankly, I had a lot. I could have passed out from the terror that I held. Assef's eyes darted around the room, coming to a stop on the shelf wherein his brass knuckles rested. He kept looking at them, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. That more than anything frightened me.

Assef would never use those on me, would he? He would never lay a hand upon me, no matter if I had goaded him into it. And I know, I know, I had tried to goad him into it but... that was an attempt to defend myself. Surely he would not take me up on that offer. But then... his cruel words made me think otherwise. He had called me a bitch, after all, he had insulted me and told me I was nothing less to him than a pathetic brat. Was I to become some other nameless victim to him now? Someone that he could pick on and hurt?

The tears stung my eyes. They blurred to the point where I could barely see in front of me. Assef, sharp as a tack, noticed this and laughed mockingly. "Oh, are you crying? Did I upset you? Did I, you little pussy bitch?" He rolled his eyes. "God, you really are INFURIATING, aren't you?" He took a step closer, fist raised. "It would be in your best interest, Saria, if you would just get the fuck out and leave me alone." When I didn't move, he raised his fist higher. One move and he would have punched me right in the face. "Fuck off, Saria, FUCK OFF and leave me the HELL ALONE!" He pointed emphatically to the door. "I can't stand to look at you. GET OUT!"

I didn't need to be told twice. If he wanted me out, then out I would go. But I was determined to get another word in. "You... you can't stand the sight of me, brother?" I asked, unable to hide the sob in my voice. "Well, you know what? That makes the two of us." With that, I darted past Assef, before he could reach out and grab me, perhaps fearing that he might become physical.

"Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out," my brother snapped sarcastically. Out I went, hearing the audible thud of the door as he closed it with force. What to do now? I didn't want to go to my room, even being in the same house as Assef felt wrong in that moment. I just... I needed to get out. I needed to be away from this horrid place.

I rushed down the stairs, two at a time, pausing at the bottom step to adjust my snow boots, then opened the door and rushing into the street. It was still pissing rain, the torrents a representative of what I felt inside. I fumbled with the lock on the wrought-iron gates, sobbing as I attempted to open them. The moment I did so, I was gone, rushing out into the gravel-laden streets.

Where was I going? How would I get there? What would I do? I walked along in a complete daze, thinking too much but not thinking of anything at the same of time. Assef's words, his harshness, the cruelty that he bore towards me flashed before my eyes. His fist aimed at me; what would it be like to feel him connect with my flesh?He'd looked as though he did want to hit me, and you know what, really... in that moment, I would not have blamed him one iota for that. It would have been more than justified, especially in light of what I'd said and done.

Oh God, why did I have to be such a fucking idiot? Why did I have to be cursed with such a temper? If I had just listened to my brother... even if I didn't agree with his opinion, he deserved the respect for me to listen to him, did he not? Why must I lash out and so cruelly hurt the person who meant more to me than anyone else in the world? Why wouldn't I listen and not jump to conclusions? Why? Why?!

Assef only wants the best for you, Saria, a voice piped up in the back of my mind. That little voice that pipes up in the back of everyone's mind when they do something wrong. Conscience, that's what it is. For me, it is a voice that rarely, if ever, makes an appearance. I think it spends most of its time in hibernation, truthfully. On those rare occasions in which it does roar to life, it usually has something to do with Assef. He was - and is - the only human being on this planet who I feel true remorse for if I hurt.

Conscience spoke on, berating me. He doesn't challenge you to piss you off, Saria. You expect him to just go along with your feelings for Amir? When all he knows of the boy is what he's seen of him day in, day out? All you had to do was stay calm and have a mature conversation, but oh no, that was not possible, was it? All he wanted to do was give you advice, because he love... loved you... and wanted the best for you. You just had to listen. But you didn't want to, did you? Instead, you start a fight that there can be no coming back from. You lash out and say the worst possible things, the most vile words you can think of. Great job, Saria. To compare Assef to your abuser. To HIS abuser. What a wonderful sister you are.

That wasn't to say that I didn't fight against those words. Assef was not a poor, defenceless victim, after all. He lashed back as good as he got, comparing me to Tanya, saying that I was like our harpy mother. Screaming in my face, threatening me, all of the hurtful words that he had said and done. Neither of us were innocent in this matter. But... Assef was more innocent than I. His cruelty was nought but retaliation to mine. I was the one in the wrong here, disgusting, abhorrent sister that I was. Did I even deserve that title anymore?

When it comes to Assef, I've learned that Conscience will always, always win. Each word, each thought, only served to cripple me once more with guilt. To bring more tears to my eyes. I'd wipe one away, and two more would fall. I'd wipe those two away, and guess what? More would come. It got to the point that I wasn't bothering to clean myself up anymore. My tears were like a river, an uncontrollable waterfall.

Weighing up my options, I deliberated on what to do. I hadn't gone far - only about ten or fifteen minutes down the road. Going back home was an option. I could find my brother, throw myself before him and plead for the forgiveness that I knew could never be given, pray that everything would be okay again. Tell him that I was sorry and that I would take on any punishment he saw fit if only he would smile at me again. Or... or... I could keep walking and crying, wanting to be in his arms, but too scared to face him.

The idea of going home terrified me. I was too shamed, too broken up. Assef didn't want to see me again, and the least that I could do was honour his wishes. And so, crying my way through the streets won by a landslide. That was fine, up to a point. Until I got the feeling that someone was following me. No... that is wrong. Not just following me. Stalking me.

How did I know I was being stalked? Well, that was obvious, and let me tell you why. It was how their footsteps matched in sync with mine, how their breathing even seemed connected to my own. I turned down various side streets, hoping to lose them, but guess what, that did nothing. The fear that crept through me was indescribable. It was... well, if you have never been followed, then I'm not sure I can accurately voice how terrifying it was. The goosebumps, the way my hair stood on end. I wanted to run, but part of me worried that if I did, I'd just make my stalker angry.

You need to understand, I had no idea who was following me. It may well have been some older man twice my age and size. I was too petrified to turn around and see for myself. If this person were to grab me, I would have no chance to fight back. Tiny as I was, what chance did I stand against an oppressor? Any moment now, any moment they would clamp their hand over my mouth and prevent me from screaming out. I hoped that, eventually, they would grow bored of this and go away... or, and this was the unlikely thought, that this were all in my head and there was nobody behind me at all.

I do have an overactive imagination, after all. Maybe this would be one of those times. But no, oh no. For I had reached a deserted alleyway and was still being followed. Nothing for it now. I was at a dead-end. Now this was pissing me off. How dare this person follow me? How dare they try to intimidate me? After the horrible morning that I'd just had? Now, the fear was gone. Whoever this person was, man, woman, it did not matter. They had crossed the damn line and I was going to face them.

"What the fuck do you want?" Fuming, I whirled around, ready to take a swing at my attacker. Only to find that it was not some creepy old man, as I previously believed. It was, in fact, a girl from my class in school. A girl named Zainab.

Zainab was one of my varying school enemies, of which I had quite a few. Tall for her twelve years, she had dark hair that she always tied back in a bun, a style that made her face look pinched and stern, much older than her time. She wore a perpetual scowl upon her face, which was more than often directed towards me. She'd had it in for me from the beginning of our schooling relationship, though I could not fathom why.

I had done nothing to Zainab. Much as I wanted to put her in her place every damn day, I knew this was not possible. To do so would raise suspicion on who I really was. So I had no clue why she hated me, and definitely enough to follow me all this way. Regardless, I was not going to be trifled with. "I believe I asked you a question, Zainab. And when I do that, I expect an answer. What the fuck do you want? I'm in no mood for any kind of shit, you fucking got that?"

No sugarcoating. No polite small talk. Just clear, concise and to the point. I was nothing if not blunt. Zainab smiled cockily and began walking around me, trying no doubt to be intimidating. "Oh, Saria, Saria, Saria. Always hostile, aren't you? I just wanted to talk. I can tell that you're in no mood." She reached out, poking my cheek with one finger. "Can't two friends just talk? Something's bothering you, isn't it? You've been crying. Why? What's upsetting the little baby? Huh?"

That bitch! How dare she mock me? Who did she think she was? "You're not my friend, Zainab, you hate my guts and I hate yours just as much if not more. It's none of your fucking business if I've been crying, or whatever I feel. You want someone to talk to, go find those idiots you hang around with, and just leave me the hell alone. Now move out of my way or do I have to make you?"

With that, I moved to get past Zainab, but she grabbed hold of my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin. Zainab shook me back and forth. "You little bitch, we aren't done talking. Not by a long shot. Did you think I followed you all this way just to let you go now? Oh no. Not at all. You don't move until I tell you to move, am I making myself extremely clear on that?"

I continued to struggle against her, trying to break free. "Get away from me, Zainab! You're really starting to piss me off! Get OFF!" But Zainab was having none of that. Raising her hands, she pushed me back, with enough force to knock me off my feet. I staggered into the alley wall, falling on my backside. My head lurched to the side, ears ringing, stars flashing before my eyes. I'd bitten down on my tongue as I fell and my mouth was filled with a metallic taste. Fury coursed through me, palpable, untameable, unmatched. All thoughts of preserving my image went right out the window. The beast roared its way to life.

"You fucking bitch! Push me? Put your FUCKING HANDS ON ME? LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT THE FUCK I CAN DO!" Getting back up, I screamed and lunged myself at Zainab, throwing us both to the ground. I kicked, clawed, bit and spat on her, pinning her down. Blind fury was the only thing guiding me at that moment. The desire to see justice done for her crime against me. To see her hurt, because I needed to hurt someone right then.

Zainab and I wrestled and hit each other for a few more minutes. As we fought, I was momentarily distracted by the sound of a car backfiring. I jumped, turning to discover the source of the noise. It was a simple lapse in judgement, but it was enough for Zainab to get the upper hand. I felt myself launched off of her, knocked onto my back as she delivered a fierce uppercut to my jaw.

Before I could stand to defend myself, Zainab flung her entire body weight against mine. I was unable to fight back, to do anything. Zainab grabbed the collar of my dress, slamming me up and down, over and over. She punched me in the face, then moved down and slammed her fist into my abdomen. She stood and kicked me into the ribs, pounding her foot onto my chest. It was the worst pain that I had ever, ever felt in my life.

Let it end, I thought, curled in a ball as Zainab continued to rain punch after punch, scratch after scratch and kick down upon me. Let it end. Let it end. Let. It. End.

Eventually, it did end. I must have passed out, causing Zainab to become bored of her violence against me. After an eternity trapped in blackness, I came to once more. I was still lying in the alleyway. My body was tormented by agony. Everything hurt. My face, my chest, my arms and legs. I lay there, stunned. Did that really just happen? Had... had I really just been beaten up? And by Zainab no less? I crawled to the alley wall and leaned against it, bile at the edge of my mouth. Struggling upright, I turned my head to the side and violently threw up, expelling my breakfast and lunch onto the ground.

That little bitch really did a number on me! I could hardly move, but I had to. There was no telling where Zainab had gone to, and I was in no condition to face her for round two. I had to get out of here. Tripping over myself, I half-crawled out of the alleyway. Looking around, I could see that there was nobody to be found. My attacker was long gone. Now, now I had to go home. But not through the market, no. I didn't want to be seen by anyone. Instead, I would made the arduous journey through the barracks and go home via that shortcut.

Every step was pain. Every movement burned. Everything made me want to collapse in a heap and just let death wash over me. I know, over-dramatic yet again! But I managed to cross the barracks, stopping often to rest, leaning against the old military tanks for support. I was thankful that nobody else was there to see me. I needed not the lewd comments of teen boys or the sneers of perverted men.

The high walls of my mansion's compound eventually came into view. Relief washed over me. Home. I walked to the back gates. Leaning on them with my shoulder, I prayed they would be open. If not... then there was no chance for me to get in. I didn't think I had the strength to go around to the front. But fate was with me, and the gates creaked open. I stepped inside.

The back gardens, covered in ice and snow, were a welcome sight. I walked towards the back door, which I could see was ajar, thank God. Before I reached it, my foot slipped on a patch of ice and I went down, landing on my front. "Oh fuck! Can nothing go right?!" I groaned, more pain burning through me. I attempted to stand. Down I went again. Struggling to one knee, I punched the ground in frustration. If Zainab would not defeat me, then I would be damn sure that a little bit of ice wasn't going to get the better of Saria Ahmed.

Finally, my struggle led me to the back door. As I said, it was ajar. No doubt Hamilra had gone out to do some job or another - do you think I cared one bit? Into the kitchen I went, dripping rain water and blood. It was at that very moment that Assef rounded the corner. I heard him before I saw him, the harshness in his voice making me want to run again.

"Hamilra, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand fucking times. Stop tracking ice into the house. You stupid Hazara bitch, why must you never listen? I swear, do it one more time, one more time! I'll knock you into next fucking week, you dumb-" It was then that he saw me, and froze, dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and he blinked. "... Saria?"

I swayed from left to right, more blood dripping from the injuries to my face. In that moment, all thoughts of being strong disappeared. I'd exhausted all of my inner core and now, I was no longer able to stand up on my own power. My legs buckled from underneath me, like two wiry, breaking stilts. I collapsed onto the tiles, falling to my knees in front of my brother, choking out his name. "Assef... Assef..." His name spewed from my lips as though I were drowning and that was the only thing that could keep me afloat.

"SARIA!" My brother cried out in horror, rushing to me. He collapsed to the floor, throwing himself around me. He grabbed at my face, his eyes wide, seizing me under the chin. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Sister!" His hands grabbed at me, holding me close, as though perhaps thinking he could take my pain for himself. Now I knew I must have been in dire straights. My brother was a veteran when it came to injuries, having caused them for many others himself. For him to react this way to mine meant only that they were nothing short of horrific. "What happened?! Who did this... who did this to you?!"

But I could not tell him that just yet. I fell into his embrace, wailing like a newborn. "Assef, oh my God, Assef, brother... I didn't mean it! I didn't mean what I said, not a word... not a word of it... dear God I didn't mean it... I'm such a fucking idiot... please forgive me, please, please... you don't even..." I turned my head to the side and coughed violently, though luckily nothing came up this time. "You don't even have to look at me or love me again but please... please don't hate me... please... PLEASE!"

Assef was so tender with me, wiping the blood from off my cheeks, leaning his forehead against mine. I shook within his embrace, sobbing out my apologies, begging with him for the forgiveness that I was so afraid he would not give. All thoughts of our argument had long disappeared, and I yearned for nothing more to let my brother know how truly sorry I was. I would have cut myself open, torn myself asunder, if it meant that I could take back the words I'd spoken.

The world melted away in that instance, crumpled on that kitchen floor with my brother. Assef hushed me. "Oh sister," he whispered, attempting to keep the tremors out of his voice. "You need not say another word, Liebchen. I forgive you those insults, I forgive you everything that you did." I croaked something else - incoherent - and he pressed me tighter to him. "Dry those tears, my Saria, you need not cry for my sake."

I looked up at my brother, needing to see his face. Needing to know, to see for myself if his words were genuine. I didn't trust myself to believe his words on face value, not right now. Reaching out, I placed my hand against his cheek and looked into his eyes. So blue and vibrant and expressive. So full of love, openness and remorse for me. It was a look that told me I was still his Saria, still his most precious and treasured little light. "Assef..." I whispered.

He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, eyes narrowing when I flinched at the movement. "And now... I must ask your forgiveness, my love." He made me look him directly in the eye. "No, no, don't tell me you deserved it, as I know you're well about to do." Had he read my mind? "You didn't, not one bit. I... I meant nothing of the cruel words that I said to harm you. They were spoken in anger, and if I could take them back, God knows I would do so in a heartbeat. No matter the personal cost. You are not our mother, you are not any of the hurtful rhetoric I spoke against you, and I am truly, truly sorry for even dreaming such cruelty up, never mind saying it to your face. Will you please, please forgive me, my love?"

His desperate pleas hung in the air. I knew right then and there that he meant them - every single word. Assef only referred to me as "my love" in situations where either things were dire or he needed me to recognise how important I truly was to him. Of course, this situation was both of these. I gulped, nodding once. "Always, big brother. Our fight has been cutting me up inside. I... I could never truly hate you. I haven't got it in me. I love you. I love you. Oh, I love you so much!"

"I love you too," Assef breathed. "I love you more than anything, truly." He pulled away from me, and looked down at the injuries that I'd received. The blood saturating my cheeks, the bruises on my arms and legs, the hand-prints on my neck. In all truth, since I'd cared more about apologising to my brother for our fight, I had all but pushed my own suffering to the back of my mind. Now that forgiveness had been granted and given, all of the pain flooded back. I tried to speak again, but was unable to get the words out.

To his credit, my Assef didn't need to be told what to do. "Let's get you some medical attention, shall we?" he asked, putting his hands underneath my legs and lifting me up into his arms. Trembling all over, I let myself be scooped up and carried over to one of the kitchen chairs. Assef sat me down, telling me to remain there. He threw open the doors to one of the cupboards and pulled out a first aid kit. I watched him open it, taking out sterilising lotion and wipes. "Can you tell me what was done to you, sister?" he asked, walking over to me. "What, exactly, happened here?"

I blinked owlishy at him. Assef returned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. He applied the wipes to the cuts on my face, causing me to flinch as the stinging sensation burned. His benevolent gaze held such tenderness. The truth of my ordeal he would receive, no more and no less. "I ran out of the house after..." I trailed off, waving a hand in the air. "Well, you know... I needed to get away for a time. But then... I... I got the feeling that I was being followed."

Assef continued to listen intently, now moving on from washing the cuts on my face to tending to the bruises that covered the rest of my shattered little frame. "I tried to lose them but it didn't work. So eventually I found myself in an alleyway, and.. and... well..." Another flinch. "Do you remember Zainab? The girl in my class that picks on me all the time?"

"How could I forget?" Assef took a handful of bandages from the first aid kit and began to wrap them around my injuries. "Zainab..." he spat her name as though it were the most disgusting word under all of Heaven and Earth. "She did this to you, Liebchen? She beat you? She attacked MY sister?"

I nodded, sniffling. "Yeah. I... I mean, I tried to fight back, really, I did. But she got the upper hand and the next thing I know, I was lying in the asphalt and she was kicking the living shit out of me. Punching and slapping me, stomping on my chest." I touched the offending area, wincing at the pain that shot through my ribs. Assef gently moved my hand to the side, fingers checking me for any broken ribs. From the look in his eyes, I surmised that I was in the clear on that regard.

"Then, I must have passed out or something, because when I came to, she was gone. I... I summoned all of the strength I had within me and... I got up and walked back here. Back home."

Assef finished up cleaning and bandaging me. He placed a hand on the back of my head. The look in his eyes was nothing short of monstrous. "I am going to beat that fucking whore until she forgets her own name," he promised. "I will rip her in two, she will regret this, I can promise you that."

My brother's convictions spoke volumes of his love towards me. That he would be willing to deliver, what he believed, would be a just punishment to my oppressor. But in my eyes, this was not enough. This went far beyond any other transgression that had ever been done to me before. A mere beating would not be enough. I was not interested in an 'eye for an eye'. No tit-for-tat. This deserved the ultimate punishment, did it not?

"No, Assef," I said, reaching out to take his hands in my own. He looked at me, almost unable to believe I'd just said those words. "I appreciate your willingness to defend me, brother, truly I do. And I know that you want to help me see vengeance for what was done to me. But, but... what was done to me... I cannot allow her to get away with a mere beating. That is not enough for me, not by a long shot."

I beckoned my Assef closer to me, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I want her dead, brother. I speak no laaf when I say that. She forfeited her right to life when she laid her hands upon me. I want her to die. And, this I swear to you, I will be the one who delivers that fatal blow."


In the next chapter, Saria seeks the ultimate vengeance against Zainab for her crimes, with the help of Assef. But will her first murder really go off without a hitch, or will she have bitten off more than she can chew?

Thank you to everyone who reads this story! I appreciate all of my readers, truly, and send you all my love! Look for the next chapter coming up as soon as possible.

Thank you again!