Author's Note: In the last chapter, Saria's feelings for Amir caused tensions to boil between herself and Assef, leading to the Ahmed siblings getting into an intense argument. After leaving the house in tears, Saria was accosted and beaten by Zainab, a classmate of hers. Now, we find that some time has passed and a fully-healed Saria seeks revenge for what she went through...
As always, I do not own any characters, plots, places and events in the original Kite Runner novel; those belong to Khaled Hosseini. Any OCs and original concepts found in this story I do claim however.
Please do not that I do not necessarily condone the actions, speech, thoughts and opinions of the characters in this story. This is and will remain solely a work of fiction, so please take that into note when reading.
With that said, let's get into the next chapter, and please enjoy!
They say that time heals all wounds. That was true, when it came to my beating, at least in the physical sense. The road to recovery was not an easy one. Once I'd come down from the heart-stopping adrenaline rush of what had happened, all that I was left with was the pain. The aches in my limbs every time I made to use them. The pounding, splitting headache from where my skull cracked against the ground. The way I struggled to breathe without it causing me untoward agony. In truth, those first few days after my ordeal were the worst to get through.
Part of me even considered the possibility that I may need to go to the hospital. That my injuries were severe enough to warrant professional treatment. But the thought of doing so was enough to make me ill, in all truth. Luckily, when I broached the subject with Assef, two days later, he merely pressed a kiss to the side of my head and gently reassured me: "If you'd needed to go, I would have taken you the minute you got home. You don't need a doctor, Saria, you'll be fine. I promise." What more reassurance d I need than that?
Speaking of my brother, he was a true, genuine godsend during this time. Every step of the way, he was there with me, helping when I needed it, supporting me on those days where the pain made me feel sick and it was all I could do not to throw up. He sat with me every night, holding me close and speaking soft, gentle words in my ear to lull me into sleep. During those times when he did have to leave the house, he made it abundantly clear to Hamilra that she was to watch over me, and tend to my every desire, no matter what it was.
As the seconds turned to hours, and the hours to days, the physical agony began to dissipate, leaving me with nothing but the deep-rooted, psychological scars to contend with. The rage that I felt against Zainab burned through every fibre of my core, boiling at the fissures of my very soul. In all my eleven years of life, I had not ever been attacked in such a way before. Oh, I was no stranger to pain, how could I be, with the amount of times Mahmood's belt had imparted a lesson on my tender flesh.
But this was different. This was a vile, disgusting act of violence, perpetrated against me by a haughty, annoying little bitch that had been a thorn in my side from the very first day we attended classes together. Zainab was always trying to undermine me; tossing snide comments my way, elbowing past me in the halls, doing her best to get me into trouble with the mullahs. Which, unfortunately for her, didn't work. How I regretted that I'd not had the sense to teach that idiotic whelp a lesson long ago.
Maybe then she wouldn't have dared to lay her hands on me. Maybe if I'd shown Zainab her place from the beginning, she would have known not to mess with me. But I had not done that, and I'd lived to regret it. That would not happen now, though. She had crossed the line and now, she was going to pay for it. That was the sole thought running through my mind, the thought that kept me going through the healing process.
Zainab would die for what she did. Zainab had to die for what she did. Assef may have been content to deliver a beating to the girl, and no doubt he would have made good on his promise to pummel her within an inch of her life, perhaps doing worse harm to her than he'd done to Farsef, but to me, that was not enough. That could never be enough. How could it be, when Zainab had dared to leave my broken, battered form lying in that alleyway like a piece of trash? When her actions were so totally unforgivable, how could I not yearn to deliver the punishment that she so richly deserved?
I know, I know, murder is a crime. Murder is wrong. I should not wish to end anyone's life, regardless of who they are or what they might have done with me. In the eyes of the world, though Zainab may have harmed me first, I would be the true monster if I snuffed out her life, cut short her fuse before it had even begin to run out. There are those who would say that there can be no excuse for taking the life of another human being, and who, no doubt, would condemn me from the moment I laid bare my dark intentions.
To those people, I have but one word to describe them: hypocrite. Sure, those who condemn me would not be able to kill someone themselves. Of course they wouldn't. Society views murder not only as a crime, but as morally wrong. Those people, even if they'd had the balls to commit the act, would not be able to live with the guilt. I cannot, and I will not, sugarcoat what the act of killing a person truly is. I knew what the moral and ethical consequences when it came to ending Zainab's life.
My actions would not just destroy Zainab's life, after all. Murder does not only affect the victim, no, it affects those closest to them, too. Zainab had a family - a mother, a father, grandparents, cousins. She had friends (though how that was possible I'll never know). She had people who loved and cared for her. By killing her, I would be destroying each of those people's lives. Because of me, she would never get the chance to grow up. She would never graduate from school, never go to study at university, never be married, never create a family of her own. Her parents would be forced to deal with the pain who of burying their only child.
What kind of monster does it make me that I so willingly aim to cause such wanton destruction to so many lives? What am I in the eyes of the morally justified but a beast, evil, the devil incarnate? Ah, but tell me, for those who dare to judge me, let me ask but one question; who among you have never thought of killing someone?
Let's just get right to the point. The answer to that is yes. Who can deny it? Everyone has those thoughts, whether or not it be about a friend, a co-worker, or a family member. I don't care who you are, or how 'good' of a person you purport yourself to be, we've all harboured those dark feelings. But you push those thoughts away, you hide them within the deepest recesses of your mind. You plug your ears, cover your eyes and pretend that all is happy and perfect in your life, never admitting to yourself the truth of your own inner monsters.
How many people would kill to save a life? How many would do it in self-defence, or to protect someone that they love? I ask, is that any different from what I planned for Zainab? Was murdering her not an act of self-defence? Who knows if she planned to attack me again, to finish what she had started? What if the next time she did so, I did not fare so lucky? What if I ended up hospitalised or, God forbid, if I were the one who died? I could not let that happen; I could not take that risk.
So... call me a monster, call me evil, call me cold-blooded. Call me any name under the sun, it makes no odds to me. At least I stand up and admit who I am. Hand on my heart, I lay bare my darkest impulses, here and now, for the world to see. Maybe the rest of the world can make do with thoughts of violence, but I am not like that. My thoughts needs must be turned into actions. I was not held back by the weight of conscience or guilt, because, in this instant, I had none.
I felt nothing for Zainab. No empathy, no compassion, no forgiveness, nothing. Nothing but unadulterated, unbridled, passionate hate. Truly, in that moment, there had been no other person for whom I could have reserved more depths of my loathing for. I yearned to see justice meted out against her, and I knew, oh how I knew, that I was the only one who could truly mete out said justice. Who else could I turn to?
My parents? Fuck that. They weren't even there for me, and even if they had been, be assured that all they would have done would be to scold me for going out in the rain and getting my clothes dirty. Tanya would have lectured me for hours on that sin alone. And Mahmood, well, he might have taken it upon himself to deliver to me a more physical form of correction. Yes, even though I'd been beaten. The belt does not take such things into consideration, and discipline waits for nobody, not in the Ahmed household.
Could I tell the mullahs at school? Zainab's actions might be classified as bullying, after all, and if I spoke up about how she'd been treating me... well... was that not what everyone says you ought to do when you're being bullied? But that wouldn't have gotten me anywhere. All Zainab would have gotten there was a slap on the wrist, maybe a detention or two. Perhaps she would have been suspended or expelled, too, if I were lucky. The police sure was fuck wouldn't do anything about it, that I can most definitely attest to.
No, this was my only option. The blood that spilled forth from my veins was too precious a commodity for the one who dared to spill it to not be punished for her actions. This was a task that I must undertake, out of respect for myself, for my honour, my name. And I knew there was but one person in the world who I would understand, who I could trust and who would stand right by my side even as I carried out this most heinous of tasks.
Oh, and how wonderful my Assef was when it came to helping me. During the time that I spent healing, he would walk the streets and spy on Zainab, whenever he could find her. He would follow her, always keeping a safe distance so that she didn't know anyone was stalking her. He'd observe where she went, who she was with, all of the people that she talked to. Much like a Just Because, only without yours truly there with him.
It didn't take long before Assef came back to me with all the information we needed. I was seated in bed, reading, when my brother came in. He leaned against my door-frame, arms swinging loosely by his sides. "I have news, Liebchen," he said, making his way across the carpet to sit down next to me. Immediately, I closed my book, placing it to one side so that I could give my brother my full attention.
"Is it about Zainab?" I asked, though there was no reason to do so. What else would he have news of? "Have you found a way for us to end her, brother? Oh, please, tell me all that you've learned!" How eager I was to learn more, to understand all that my brother had studied about our enemy.
Assef nodded. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, drawing me in close. I rested my head against his chest, and he absently played with a loose strand of my golden curls. "There's a riverbank," he said, "a small creek beyond the barracks. Zainab... she spends time there at around lunch time, every day. It must be a special place for her or something." He rolled his eyes, and my lips twitched. "It's somewhat hidden, so... I'm thinking we can sneak up on her there, kill her and bury her. Nobody will be any the wiser."
He trailed off, leaving the image of our upcoming cruelty hanging in the air. I looked up at him. "So, we'll kill her in her favourite spot," I said, closing my eyes and letting a soft hum escape from my lips. "How very ironic." Provided there's nobody else around, I thought, but didn't share that apprehension with Assef. Of course, part of me did consider the possibility that we were dicing with fire - and if we danced too close to the flame, we would get burned.
Yet I would push these thoughts aside. We were both intelligent, brilliant, cunning and determined. Together, there was nothing we could not accomplish, and we would deal with any issues that cropped up if and when they arrived. Assef must have had the same ideas that I did, as he drew me close, kissed the top of my head, and tilted my chin so that I was looking at him in the eye.
"Of course, Liebchen, you just concentrate on getting well again. You've made immense progress over the past few days. You should be raring to go within the next, oh, how about a day or two. In the meantime, we can work to ensure our plans are ready to be put into motion."
"That day can't come soon enough, brother," I replied with a smile. And indeed, it couldn't. If I'd had to wait for even a second longer than I already did, then I would have gone stark raving mad. Fortunately, whether it be through the excitement of my upcoming plans or some other reason, I powered through the pain and came through on the other side. And when my injuries were healed, it came time to get vengeance that I so richly deserved.
I remember that day, a Friday to be exact, with pinpoint accuracy. How could I not? It was the day I became a murderer for the very first time. The day that I learned not only had I the means to take a life, but also the determination and strength of character to see it through to the end.
That morning, I knelt by my bed. One of my old school rucksacks was open and I was shoving everything that I would need into it. These items included; a lavender pinafore and change of tights just in case of blood-spatter, a pair of gloves for fingerprints, a small shovel with which to bury her, and several black plastic bags in which to wrap the body so as to properly dump it. That one I must not take credit for, t'was my brother who got that idea. It's what he used to do with the bodies of those pets we used to have as kids. Fitting, given that Zainab was little more than an animal.
Oh, and I almost forgot the most important item of all; the murder weapon! Yes, lying on my bed, glistening in the sunlight that filtered through my half-open blinds, was a large butcher's knife stolen from one of the kitchen drawers. As with all of the cutlery in the Ahmed home, it was clean, stainless steel. Ah, but not for long! Closing my eyes, I envisioned forcing it into Zainab's chest, hearing it squelch as it made contact with her skin. I imagined the look on her face, her eyes wide, the colour draining. Would she cry? Would she beg? Oh, I couldn't wait to find out!
I continued to pack my bag, shoving my tights, the bin bags and a spare pair of shoes into it. After that, I grabbed my pinafore and balled it up, stuffing it into the rucksack. It almost felt like I was packing for a holiday. Well, I would be sending Zainab on a one-way trip, wouldn't I? A smirk formed on my lips at the crudeness of my internal remark, and I slowly began to zip the rucksack up.
It got about three-quarters of the way closed and then... it got stuck. My teeth grit in frustration, and I shook the bag vigorously, up and down, back and forth, trying to fix the issue. I couldn't just let the bag as it was. What if the zipper broke while I was chasing Zainab down? What if all my clothes and equipment spilled onto the ground? That would've been a fucking disaster, I couldn't let that happen.
"Come on," I muttered, struggling with the zipper, narrowing my eyes into slits. Nothing was working. "Come on, for crying out loud! For fuck sake! Stupid, worthless piece of crap, why does nothing I own work the way it should? DAMN IT! GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" A growl of anger escaped my lips and I punched the bag, my tiny fists hitting against the nylon repeatedly.
A chuckle broke me out of my reverie. I whipped around, a little on edge, to see Assef standing in the doorway to my room, arms hanging loosely by his sides. He raised a brow, his lips twitching. He looked at the bag that I was punching, and shook his head. "Your voice sure does carry when you're annoyed, Liebchen," he said, crossing the length of the room to kneel down beside me. "What's wrong, huh? Why are you attacking your rucksack? You know, that's not what you're meant to be killing today, right?"
He was trying to cheer me up, to keep me from losing it, but so tense was I that I could only manage a tiny, half-smile. Turning from him, I gave the zipper one last push. Voila, it closed! I gave a small whoop of delight and moved the bag out of the way. "Sorry, Assef, I guess my emotions are just all over the place today. I mean, why would they not be, given what I... what we're about to do. The task that we're about to undertake."
Assef looked down for a moment, an unreadable expression in his blue eyes. He put a finger to his lips, tapping it. "Yes, about that," he began, taking my little hands in his. "About... about Zainab..." I blinked. What about her, I thought, but before I could say those words aloud, to voice my own opinions, Assef got in there with the rest of his statement. "Saria, are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure that you truly want to kill her?"
His words took me aback. Out of everything I thought he would say, that was certainly not even close. Nowhere on the list. Where was he going with this? Why was he asking me this now, on the very day of the murder? Did he expect that I would change my mind, that I would just let Zainab go? I blinked. "Assef, forgive me, brother, but why are you only bringing this up now? We've been planning this for days, have we not? And now you're getting cold feet? I do not understand."
My brother gently cupped my face with his hand, looking deep into my eyes. "I know," he said, "I know it seems a bit off that I would question your willingness to go through with this now, given that we've had so many days to plan. It's just.." Assef trailed off. He reached over my bed and picked up the knife, turning it over and over in his hands. "Seeing this weapon, seeing you preparing everything, it... I guess it's truly hitting me what we're about to do. That we are going to take someone's life. Not that I have a problem with it, Sar -" he cut across me before I could question his moral compass - "I don't, God knows the bitch deserves it and I fully support you on this. But, as your brother, I have to look out for you. I have to ensure that you know this is really what you want."
I didn't respond. Assef continued on, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. "Because right now, it's not too late to turn back. I mean that, Liebchen. I won't pass judgement on you, no matter what you decide. If you want to change your mind, then that's fine. We'll chase her down and I will deliver the worst beating that stupid whore has ever suffered in her life. I'll break every bone in her body, and leave her suffering in the dirt. And if you do want her dead, then that's what we'll do. For you, anything. I just want you to be sure about this."
It would be a lie on my part to say that his words didn't give me pause for thought. Did he not think I'd already weighed up the pros-and-cons of my plans? Did he not think I understood just full well what I was going to do, and what it would make me? But I couldn't blame him for his concern. Assef did everything to protect me, even if that meant protecting me from a decision that he worried I may come to regret. Still, I wanted to assuage his fears, to let him know there was nothing amiss.
"Assef," I whispered, squeezing his hands gently in my smaller ones. "I appreciate your words. And I know you're concerned about me, and I love you for that." He nodded, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. His gaze was compassionate as always, listening intently to my words. "But I've given this a lot of thought, and..." Here it came. I took a deep breath. "I want to do this. No, scratch that. I need to do this. I have to kill Zainab. She beat me to a damn pulp and if I don't take extreme action, if I don't take her life in retaliation then... then I feel I'm saying I deserved what happened. And I don't... I don't deserve it... do I?"
My voice quavered on that last question, and I paused, furrowing a brow. I didn't deserve what was done to me, right? I didn't deserve to be beaten and left lying on the ground. I didn't deserve to suffer, to be humiliated and made a fool of. No matter what. No matter if I had so cruelly insulted and hurt my brother's feelings earlier that day. Ah, was I getting cold feet? No, of course not. But now that Assef had questioned my willingness, there was a part of me, my conscience perhaps, that questioned if I should have been punished. Oh, how my emotions were turning on a dime, flicking on and off like a light-switch. Was this how every murderer felt their first time?
Before I could say another word, Assef drew me into an embrace. He pressed a kiss to my head. When he pulled back, he looked me directly in the eyes. "No, Saria," he said, both hands on either side of my face. "You didn't deserve what Zainab did to you, okay? Not at all. I didn't mean to insinuate anything of the sort and if I did then I apologise, most sincerely. I just wanted to be sure this was truly what you wanted, for your sake, not for anyone else's. This decision is one of enormous magnitude and I didn't want you to go through with something so permanent only to regret it later. But looking in your eyes now, I can tell that you're certain, and that's all I need. I'm right here with you, my beloved sister. I'll support you, no matter what." He smiled, diffusing the tension, and playfully tapped my nose. "Now, come on, let's stop waxing poetic and get on with it."
Everything was falling into place now. Now that Assef and I had said what we needed to, now that we knew we'd support each other, I felt infinitely better. With Assef by my side, there was nothing I couldn't accomplish. With one last smile at my brother, I got to my feet with renewed vigour. "Meet me by the front door, Assef. I'll be down in one minute, I promise."
Assef nodded, stood up, and left the room. I heard his retreating footsteps as he walked down the stairs, then the noise of the door unlocking. Once again, I went over the mental checklist of what I had in the bag, ensuring that all I needed was in there. Once I was certain I was fully prepared, I skipped to the closet, put on my shoes and coat, then skipped back pick up the knife.
Can't forget this now, can we? I thought, holding it up. I tucked the knife into the inside pocket of my coat, zipping it up. Picking up the bag, I slung it over my shoulders and began the walk downstairs. I bounced down, two at a time, completely full up with adrenaline. Assef stood waiting, the front door already open and ready for us to go out. He smiled at me, extending his hand. "Come on, Liebchen. Let's go give this bitch what she deserves."
We left the house. Assef locked the door, then slipped the key into his pocket. Hand in hand, we walked down the gravel-laden drive, neither of us speaking a word. I guess both of us had much weighing upon our minds. The straps of my rucksack dug into my shoulder blades. I reached up to adjust them. As I did so, I couldn't help but to feel a little anxious about the items inside. Even though the knife was in my coat, what I had in the bag could still be construed as suspicious. I glanced to the sky and whispered a prayer that the zipper wouldn't break.
The snow crunched loudly under our feet as we crossed over the road. Assef took the lead here, guiding me on where to go, which way to turn. We made our way to a barren patch of land, overlooking a large hill. "Come on, Liebchen," Assef said. "The creek she goes to is just up that hill there." He pointed to it. "If I've done my research right, she should be there by now."
I glanced up at the hill. It looked steep, and I knew that it'd be a bit of an effort to get up there, especially considering my tiny legs. But there was no other way to get around this, it was the only way to get to Zainab, to pull off our efforts without the risk of being seen. Therefore, I would bind my nerves with steel and do what was necessary. I inhaled deeply. "Well, let's not keep her waiting any longer, Assef," I replied, and we made our way up the hill.
By the time we reached the top, I felt a little out of breath, and I could see Assef felt the same. No, we were not unfit by any stretch of the imagination, but damn if that hill wasn't fucking steep. It did give a beautiful view, however, landscape that stretched for miles, ice patches white upon the ground, the little outlines of houses and buildings in the distance. I could have admired the beauty of nature for hours, but now was not the time for that. I had a mission to undertake. And there, kneeling by a small brook, her focus taken by the pebbles she threw into the gently rippling water, was that mission in the flesh.
Zainab sang to herself - a loud warble that sounded to my ears more like a cat being strangled. I rolled my eyes, pointing towards her. "She ought to be killed for that godawful noise alone," I said in German.
He answered back, also in the language of our mother's native tongue. "Agreed, Liebchen. No wonder she's out here alone if this is the kind of shit she does." Assef took my hand and squeezed it once, then twice, a gesture that it was time to do this. "Come on, sis." He pressed a finger to his lips. "Stay quiet now, so she won't hear us."
"I don't think that's gonna be a problem," I quipped, but placed a finger to my lips anyway. Ensuring that we remained as stealthy as possible, Assef and I crept down the hill, quiet as mice. Zainab continued to hum, playfully throwing stones into the water. So naive, so pathetic and gullible. She had no idea what was to befall her. Well, I would put an end to that. Bending down, I lifted up a pebble and hurled it at Zainab's back.
It struck her with pinpoint accuracy, causing her to whirl around. She glanced this way and that, before her gaze finally came to rest on Assef and I. The moment they did, her eyes widened in surprise. "Saria...?" she asked, yet she wasn't looking at me. No, I was, as of yet, no threat to her. Why would I be? The tiny, helpless victim of her bullying ways, what threat could I possibly be to her? No, her fear was directed to Assef, who stood beside me with his arms crossed over his chest.
The minute she saw him, the colour drained from her face. Her lips parted, her eyes almost bugging out of her skull. "What... what are you doing here?" Her voice came out as stutter. She glanced back and forth, from Assef's face to mine. "Saria, what the fuck? What... what is he doing here?" Her tone was accusatory, her eyes narrowing. She was trying to be tough, but the apprehension was more than clear in her every mannerism.
Assef sneered. "Oh, what's wrong? Can't I have a few words with the girl who attacked my little sister? Hmm? You got a problem with that, Zainab? Do you?" He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, fishing out his brass knuckles. Of course he brought them, I thought, watching him snap them onto his hands. And look at Zainab, bitch is about to shit herself with fear. Oh, it's going to get a lot worse, you little cunt. A lot worse!
"I... I..." Zainab spluttered. She raised her trembling arms, desperate to protect herself. Assef took a step forward, fist raised. Within moments, he would be close enough to touch her. I just remained where I was, watching this all unfold. My brother had a plan, this I knew, and I put my full and total trust into him when it came to seeing it play out. Assef made yet another step. The moment he did, Zainab, realising the gravity of his intentions, took action.
Whirling around, she began to run. She dashed across the creek, over the rocks, up a small barren patch of land. Assef looked at me. His eyes glinted, the same mischievous look that he always got during at Just Because. I didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. This was it. Here, the fun could truly, truly begin. We said not a word to each other, merely taking off after Zainab at the speed of light. The hunt had begun.
That was not to say that it was an easy chase, though. Zainab must have sensed that we had ill intent towards her, for she ran like the hounds of hell were behind her. Darting up yet another hill - though not quite as steep as the previous one - she looked left and right, trembling, as if hoping to gauge which way she ought to turn. I watched with baited breath, to see what she would do. Assef and I continued to run after her, gaining with every step, yet never being close enough to seize our victim.
"Left," Assef said, pointing ahead. "She's going left, Liebchen. She's headed for the barracks. Come on. If we hurry, we can cut her off before she reaches them." He caught my hand and half-dragged me towards the top of the hill. Not unlike how he had dragged me along some weeks ago. This time, I was not complaining, of course not. I did my level best to keep up with him, not wanting to stop for even a minute. There was no second to waste, lest we allow Zainab to get away. There could be no chance on this earth that I would ever dare to let this happen. And I knew that my Assef wouldn't permit me to feel even the slightest disappointment today.
We turned a sharp left, noticing Zainab as she continued to run. The barracks were coming into view now. Only a few more meters to go. There was a thick patch of briars that ran around the barracks, an entrance that would lead us to her without the bitch even knowing we were coming. Was that not the best plan? To cut her off, make her think that she had gotten away, that she was in the clear, and then jump out to "surprise" her. But ere I take another step, I was cut off, by Assef's loud, disbelieving exclamation.
He gesticulated in wild frustration. "What is she doing?" he asked. "What... what is she doing? Where the fuck is she going? She wasn't meant to fucking go that way, stupid cunt!"
It was a little unsettling to hear how angered he was becoming. He'd stopped running and I did too, looking up at him, my confusion notably expressed upon my face. Clearly, whatever was happening now was throwing a bit of a wrench in our plans, though I had yet no idea what that was. I was soon to find out, however. Assef pointed to where Zainab was running.
Instead of heading near the barracks as she was meant to do, so that we could easily cut her off, my victim had rushed towards a plot of land so far unforeseen. This was a place that neither Assef nor myself had ever gone before. Indeed, up until that moment, neither of us had any idea that such a place even existed. Zainab turned a corner once again, disappearing behind some thicket. She was now completely out of view, as if she had vanished into thin air. I let out a moan of frustration, jumping up and down, pounding my fists into my dress.
"Damn it!" I screamed, my hair-trigger temper getting the best of me once more. "What the fuck? What the FUCK is this? She wasn't meant to go that way. What is she doing? Where did she go?! Son of a motherfucking bitch, what do we do now? WHAT DO WE DO?!" Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. I jumped from one foot to the other. This was such a fucking complication! If she didn't go to the barracks, then where would she go? Where could she go?
My frustration continued to boil over. Were it not for Assef, I doubt I would have found the strength to continue in this mission. Maybe I would even have thrown in the towel. Yet my brother, the guider of my soul, the one who deigned to support me even when hope appeared lost, stepped in to rescue me from myself. He caught my arms, holding them at my sides to prevent me from lashing out in further rage.
With a tense yet understanding countenance, he pointed to where Zainab had run off to. "She may not have gone where we expected her to, but she can't just vanish, now can she? We follow her like we planned, and we find her. We find her and we fucking end her, just like we planned. Okay?" Assef pulled me towards him, wrapping me in an embrace, pressing his lips to the top of my head. "Now calm down, please. This isn't the end of the world. You see? There she is."
Indeed, there Zainab was, half-crawling through some terse bramble, dirt and leaves clinging to her shirt. Now that she was back in sight, all of my fervour returned tenfold. No, a little setback would not get the best of me. My face set in determination, I chased after her again, with Assef at my side. Zainab turned left, then right. I could almost taste her emotions, palpable as they were. How ironic that she was now the one being hunted. She was now the frightened victim. I could almost laugh at that.
Zainab rushed towards a long, rickety bridge. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere for her to go but forward. And that was exactly what she did, tripping and staggering the whole way. "Oh, you're running out of options, Zainab, we're coming for you!" I mocked, speeding up. Assef and I crossed the bridge. My legs were cramping, my heart was pounding so hard I feared it may burst forth out of my chest, but that didn't stop me. Nothing, I repeat, nothing could stop me! I ran across the bridge - jumping from the steps at its end. Having not gauged the distance of my fall, I landed on my knees with a thud.
"Fuck!" That was all the attention I would give my pain. Bounding to my feet, I gave not a second thought to the contusion that may soon form upon my knees. I grabbed Assef's hand, gesturing at Zainab. "Let's go! Let's go!"
How long had we been running? How long had Zainab attempted to escape our clutches? It felt as though the entire day had passed just by these moments alone. Only by adrenaline alone was I surviving now. My goal was in sight, just out of reach, and I would fight through any bit of pain and exertion to get to it. Zainab's life was mine. She could run all she wanted, but there was no hope in this world or the next, for her to survive this day.
There was a large, barren patch of land, mud and snow, that led up to a huge, derelict, abandoned house. I could barely see it in the distance, but judging by the weeds and graffiti covered walls (not that I could yet read what said graffiti was) nobody had lived there for quite some time. Ah, did I need to be a mind-reader to know what Zainab's thoughts were, the moment that house came into view? Was this her chance? Had she found a place to be safe? As if!
She ran towards the house, Assef and I hot on her tail. "This is it, Sar," Assef said, running alongside me. "We'll corner her now, there's nowhere she can hide." The laughter was evident in his voice, and I found myself smiling along with him. Zainab vaulted over the small, rickety fence, with us behind her. She ran towards the house. Now we were close enough to one another that I could hear her. She whispered a prayer as she lunged for the door of the house.
"Be open," she muttered, her voice pitching with tears, "Be open, please God, please God, give me shelter! Protect... Protect me!" Fortunately for her (well, for now) the door creaked open and she made her way inside. She hightailed it up the stairs, taking two at a time. I was soon after her, not even bothering to grab the handrail. The house looked as though it had seen better days, obviously nobody had lived here for decades. But that was of no matter.
At the top of the stairs, my brother and I finally had Zainab cornered. She froze, looking between us. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, focused solely on the brass knuckles that rested still upon Assef's hand. Oh, but she was soon to learn that he was not the true threat of this hour. "Go away!" she whispered, backing up, her hands out. "Go away, leave me alone! What's wrong with you two?"
She looked around, desperately, trying to find some way to escape. Assef arched a brow. "There's no way out, Zainab," he said, "nowhere to run, not anymore. So you may as well face us."
Not wanting to do that, at least, not yet, Zainab stepped back again. She reached out, blindly fumbling with the doorknob of one of the upstairs rooms. It was one of those doorknobs that opened when you twisted it, and now it did so with minimal effort on her part. Zainab wobbled into the room, toppling backwards through the creaking open doorway and landing with a thud on her ass.
We entered the room swiftly after her, Assef kicking the door shut behind him. It looked to have once been a child's bedroom - a small cot lay half dismantled in the corner, children's books strewn around. I removed the bag from my shoulders and tossed it aside, the knife remaining secreted within my coat pocket. Zainab was lying, dazed upon the floor, her eyes wide. She grabbed the bars of the cot, wobbling onto her unsteady legs. She was out of breath, doubled over. "What do you want...?" she asked. "Why are you doing this? Why are you chasing me? What do you want from me?"
Assef walked towards her. "What do we want?" he began, "well, Zainab. You attacked my sister. You beat her within an inch of her life. You left her bleeding in the dirt. Did you honestly think that this would be the end of it? Did you think that I - that we - would not desire retribution for that?" He reached out, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her closer to him. She shrieked, and he cracked her in the mouth, causing her to blubber like the recreant she was. "Your actions have consequences, you cunt, and you're going to answer for them today. But first, you owe Saria an apology, and you WILL give it to her."
Zainab looked at me. Her mouth parted. I wondered, in the back of my mind, if she would apologise. If she would express regret for what she had done. Not that it would have made a blind bit of difference to me, and Assef knew that too. I deserved an apology, but Zainab also deserved to face the consequences for what she had done. But right before an those words of remorse could be formed, courage swelled through the depths of Zainab's soul.
She must have been shamed to behave as a coward before, and now was trying to make up for it. The girl continued to struggle violently against my brother, hitting out at his iron-grip. Her face contorted in rage, and she screamed - literally screamed - against me. "NO!" she growled. "No, I'm not going to apologise. I won't! You chase me all this way just to get some sick revenge? What are you gonna do, Saria? Gonna have your big brother beat me up? I'm not sc-scared of that-" Didn't sound like it, judging by her stutter. But she continued unabated. "Fuck you, you sick little bitch! You deserved everything I gave you!"
I'll admit, I was a little confused by her outburst. Was this not the same girl who had just run from us? Now she was cornered and her instinct was to lash out when she ought to be grovelling for mercy? Alas, maybe this was that oft-touted "fight or fight" mechanism that one deals with when in impending doom. She'd already exhausted all of her flight, and now, trapped like a caged animal, there was nothing for it but to fight back.
Alas, what she didn't count on, was the fierceness with which my brother would defend me, even if only from harsh words. He punched Zainab in the stomach, hard enough to buckle her legs. She dropped to her knees, moaning in agony. If I'm not mistaken, I think I even heard a rib crack. Assef reached out and, with his free hand, seized her hair, forcing her into an upright-yet-still-kneeling position. He narrowed his eyes at her, then looked back at me. "You're not making this any easier on yourself, Zainab. Do as you're told. Apologise. NOW."
Yet again, she refused, this time going so far as to spit upon the ground as she told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should "go fuck myself". Assef looked at her in disgust, then back to me. "Looks like this bitch is too tough or too stupid to give you the apology you deserve, sister," he admitted, tightening his grip around her neck. "I think she might need a bit more incentive, to be honest. Care to give her some?"
I knew exactly what he meant. This was it. This was my time to shine! Assef stood back, removing his brass knuckles and placing them back into his jean's pocket. They would not be necessary, not today. With methodical movements, I unzipped the lining of my coat. I took a step forward, keeping my gaze focused on Zainab the entire time. Oh, if only she knew what she was in for, then she would not dare to be so brazen. I stared her right in the eye, pulling the knife from the lining of my pockets.
The moment she saw the blade in my hand, that I held aloft, poised to strike, Zainab let out a high-pitch, terrified cry. Gone was the tough, bratty and arrogant girl who sought to defend herself through any means possible, and in her place was a snivelling piece of human misery. How funny it was that this knife, a mere tool, could create such a reaction in her. Assef moved away from her, leaning against a wall, not even needing to hold her upright. She fell onto her hands, beginning to sob. "N... Nooo..." she wailed. "No, no, Saria, no, why...? What are you doing? What do you have that... kni..." She couldn't even say the word, "what do you have that for? What are you going to do? Please don't... please... I'm sorry, Saria... I am! I'm sorry... Please... please... NOOO!"
Her apology was cut short as I lunged forward. With a rage-filled cry, I hurled my entire body onto Zainab, my sixty-seven pounds of body weight knocking her backwards and onto the floor. "It's too little, too late, Zainab." I pinned her down, resting my elbow against her throat, while she kicked and screamed, calling out to anyone who would help her. Yet there was only one person who could hear her aside from myself and there was no way Assef would ever come to her aid. I raised the knife above my head, never breaking eye contact with her for even one nanosecond.
Zainab screamed as I brought the knife down, plunging it into her throat. She gargled, choking on her own blood, which was now spilling out from her. Tears ran down her face. She made to lift her hands, as if to wipe the torrents of blood away, but was unable to find the strength to do so. I brought the knife down again, this time in her stomach. I stabbed every bit of her that I could find - her chest, her stomach. The girl continued to flail around, partly trying to defend herself, partly out of some involuntary reaction. At one point, her right arm flew up, managing to loosely catch my hand. I slashed the knife across her palm, so deep into the skin that I could see bone.
"Die!" I snarled viciously, continuing to plunge the blade in and out of her flesh. All I could think of was ending her, making sure that she suffered. All of my humanity, my compassion, any bit of conscience that I may have had, it all went out the window in those moments. I barely even remembered that Assef was in the room with me. No, the only person who had my attention now was the bleeding, agonised young girl facing death at my hand. Just a little more now, she couldn't hold out for much long. The light was beginning to disappear from her eyes. Her colour became pale. The ability to struggle was leaving her.
She emitted a gargled death-rattle, her hand falling limp to the side, hitting the floor with a sweet totality. Her eyes rolled into her head, exposing the whites. I stared down at her, blinking. "Is she dead?" I asked myself, stepping back from the corpse I'd just created. Zainab looked inhuman. Blood coated her throat, her clothes, her face. She was hacked and slashed to bits. Almost unrecognisable as a person. Her face was contorted in terror.
Assef walked towards me, muttering under his breath. He stood there for a moment, squinting, looking down at the body. "Damn..." he whispered, awed. "Damn it, Sar, it... I didn't expect that. Wow... you really gave her what-for, didn't you...?" He nudged her with his shoe, lip curling at the gross sight before him. I just blinked at her as though in a daze. I couldn't believe what I had done.
Could such a gruesome act of fearsome violence truly come from the hands of an eleven-year-old? Could a tiny, four-foot-tall little girl with cute plaits and an adorable pinafore really have just committed such an act? Assef turned to me, his blue eyes glinting. "I'm so proud of you," he said passionately. "I know... I know I tell you that often, Liebchen, but I mean it. None more so than today. Look at her, look at what you've caused. You are incredible, darling sister."
Those words, his kindness, the joy that came from knowing my brother was proud of me. I grinned, clasping my hands under my skin. "Thank you, my Assef," I whispered, looking at him with a grateful stare. "I can hardly believe I've done this. But fuck if it doesn't feel good, seeing that creature there, dead by my hand." I looked down at Zainab, sticking my tongue out at her. "Who's the pathetic little victim now, you dumb bitch?" I asked, then laughed when of course I received no response. "This is what happens when you fuck around with the Ahmed siblings."
"Indeed, Liebchen," Assef replied, laughing. Oh, how I would have stayed in that moment with him forever, drunk on the revelry of my actions. Yet work still remained to be done, and it was Assef who set me upon the right path once more. Clearing his throat, he took a step back from the crimson cadaver and turned to face me. "Saria, must as I'd like to stand and admire your handiwork, we do need to, ahem, get rid of her. You have the bags, don't you?"
"Over there." I pointed to the rucksack. Assef walked over and picked it up. He brought it over, unzipped it and started to root around for the necessary items. It took nought but a second before he found them, procuring the bin liner and making his way to Zainab. I watched him open them and start manhandling her corpse inside, not caring to be even the tiniest bit gentle. He managed to stuff her head, arms and about three-quarters of her torso in, but her legs were still out. Assef turned to me. "Saria, come here and help me, would you?"
I nodded, returning to him and kneeling down. Assef pointed to one of the bags. "Pick that up," he said, "wrap her legs in it. Make sure she's completely hidden, okay? Once you've done that, I'll tie the bags up and we can move on to phase two of disposing the body."
"Okay." It was all I could say. I was still reeling from the high of my actions, unsure if I would ever truly come back down to Earth once more. My hands trembled as I held open the bin liner with one hand and lifted Zainab's legs with the other. They were a dead weight - no pun intended - and I struggled to manoeuvre them in the way I needed. I grit my teeth, swearing under my breath as I forced her into the bags, pulling them up over her legs, forceful, though not so much as to tear the liner. Eventually, her entire body was inside. "She's all yours, Assef."
Assef tied the bags up, with expert accuracy, making sure that every part of Zainab was securely inside. Once that was done, he bent down and dragged her to the side, placing her by a slanted bookshelf. As if she were an afterthought. He then looked at me, taking in my appearance for the first time. "You need to get changed, Sar," he said. "I mean, no offence, but you're a bit of a mess right now. I'm sure there are other rooms in this place, so you go in there and clean yourself up. Then we can get going. Go on now."
Glancing down at myself, I noted that Assef was entirely correct in his assumptions. The front of my dress was covered in blood. It speckled my arms, dripped all over my tights. There was no way I'd be able to walk through the streets looking like this. If anyone were to catch sight of me, heavens knows what they'd think. What they would do.
I picked up my rucksack and walked out into the hall. Looking up and down, I tried to find another place in which to change. There were several closed doors lining the halls - no doubt the bedrooms of this home's previous tenants. I pushed open the door to one of the rooms and stepped inside. Just as I suspected, another bedroom. This time it looked to be the master bedroom, no doubt where a husband and wife slept. Much like the room in which I had murdered Zainab, this one must have seen better days. On some subconscious level, I found myself wondering who had lived in this house before, and what had happened to make them leave.
No time to wax poetic on the history of some unknown family, though. I had to get on with it. There was a large mirror in the corner, and I stood in front of it, looking at myself. If I'd thought I was a mess before, now I could see just how unhinged I looked. The blood coated my face, the ends of my hair. Gonna need to take a long bath when I get home, I told myself, wiping clean the strands on my hair. Right. This is the less fun part of the game, Saria, but still it needs to be played. Get to it, chop-chop.
Peeling the gloves from my hands, I balled them up and tossed them to one side. They landed on the floor, and I made the mental note that I would have to pick them up later. Couldn't forget them, that would not be a good idea. I reached back, undoing the ribbon on my dress and pulling it loose - opening it up and letting it fall to my feet. It was odd, really, being here, standing completely naked in a stranger's home. Almost made me feel sort of 'naughty'. I know, I know, a bit weird of me to think this way given I'd just murdered someone.
I wiped the blood from off my arms and legs, using my old dress as a cloth. Had to ensure that I was completely clean, had to make the effort. Once the blood was gone, I retrieved my change of clothing from the bag. How lucky I was to have brought it. Humming under my breath, I pulled the dress over my head, then set about changing my tights and shoes.
With that done, I bent down to pick up my old dress, clothes and shoes. I was just about to put them back into the rucksack when there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Fuck!" I swore, almost jolting out of my skin. "Assef, is that you?"
His laughter was clear in his response; I could almost envision him rolling his eyes behind the closed door. "Well, it's hardly going to be Zainab, Saria," he retorted. "Are you dressed, Liebchen? May I come in?"
I walked to the door and pulled it open. "I'm dressed," I said, "everything okay, brother? What do you need from me? Is there a rush?"
Assef shook his head. He extended his hand to me, pointing to the dress balled up in my hand. "No rush, Liebchen. It's just there's quite a bit of blood on the floor where the body was, and, uh, I think we ought to clean it up before we dispose of the body. And, well, since we didn't bring any cloth..." He arched a brow. I could tell what he was getting at. Guess all hope of ever wearing that dress now went out the window. Ah, well. That didn't matter. But I did have one question for my brother. I voiced it to him as we walked back to the room where Zainab was.
"Assef, you talk of disposing the body..." I glanced down at the bag-wrapped cadaver, "may I ask why? I mean... can we not just leave her here? It's not like there's anyone else going to come to this place, is there?"
He placed a hand on the back of my hair, leaning down to kiss my temple. "Liebchen, look at what we've found in this place. This place could be a godsend for us in the future. But if we leave Zainab here, well... there's the chance that she may be found. You know her parents are going to contact the police when she doesn't come home tonight. I'm not going to say they'll find her here, but there may be a chance that they will. So we need to get her out of here. We need to take her somewhere away from here where there won't be any suspicion."
Ah, of course! That made sense. We'd struck gold by finding this place, this hidden gem that nobody but us knew about. We could use it. It could be ours. Yet the only way to ensure that it remained our little secret was to get rid of any evidence that any untoward crimes took place here. It was with this thought in mind that I dropped to my knees, scrubbing up the blood from off of the floor.
I brought up my thoughts to Assef as I did so, keeping my back turned to him so that I could remain focused upon the task at hand. "It's so weird, isn't it?" I said, wiping the last remnants of blood from the floor. "That all of this blood, all of it, it all came from one person. I mean... all it took was a small kitchen knife and I made this big mess. It feels... odd, in a way."
Assef extended a hand to me, gently raising me back to my feet. "I think today's been a surprise for both of us," he said, almost a little bluntly. He walked over to Zainab's body, grabbing the bags around where her waist may have been. "Now come on. Let's go get rid of this bitch. We don't want her stinking up our new hideout, now do we?"
There was an underlying sense of urgency in his voice. As if he wanted to get this over and done with. I supposed I couldn't blame him - we should be getting home soon anyway. Assef bent down, grabbing hold of Zainab and starting to drag her from the room. I followed along, keeping a safe distance to ensure I didn't get in his way. We reached the top of the stairs and Assef froze, hands on his hips. "So, uh, how do we do this?" he asked, "hmm. I mean, I'd just throw her down, but I don't want to tear the bags."
He looked at me, for a brief moment, as if he wanted to suggest something but thought better of it. "Suppose I'll just have to carry her," he said, "you come down after me, Liebchen. Okay?" I nodded, and he picked Zainab up, easily, slinging her over his shoulder as we began our descent. Assef occasionally aimed the bags so that Zainab hit the walls, slamming into them with a loud, reverberating thud. Not out of any sadism, of course, the girl was dead and could feel nothing - but the uncaring way he treated her corpse did make me laugh.
We reached the bottom of the steps, and Assef turned to me. "Mind getting the door, Liebchen?" he asked, gesturing to it.
I nodded, doing exactly that. "Are you sure you're okay to carry her, Assef jan?" I asked, giving my brother a sympathetic glance. "It won't be too difficult for you? Perhaps we ought to find a wheelbarrow or something in which to dump her so you don't have to overexert yourself..."
Assef smiled gratefully, his tone soft in response. "You're sweet to care so much for me, mein liebchen. But don't worry about me, it's fine. I don't know if we're going to find a wheelbarrow or anything about this place. And we need to get going, don't we?" He tightened his grip around Zainab's corpse, ushering me out the door. "She's not that heavy, really. If she does, then we can just drag her along."
And there, my worries were assuaged. I didn't want to cause my Assef any untold suffering. But knowing that he was okay with carrying Zainab's body, was he not the most generous soul that ever walked this earth? I wanted to express just what his help on this whole day meant to me, but I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. For now, we had places to be. Things to do. And it was better if we could just get on with it.
We left the house. I made sure to close the door behind me. Then, just as before, Assef and I went back the way that we'd come. Although this time, the journey felt somewhat... calmer, I guess you could say. Assef seemed to be having no trouble in carrying Zainab - and I wondered if on some level the adrenaline that I'd gained from killing her had passed on to him. A funny thought, I know. But I can't help but to feel that way. My brother and I were so connected in all things, it definitely felt that way.
Eventually, we made it far enough away from the house so as to properly dump Zainab's remains. Assef dropped the body, kicking it to one side. The moment he did this, I removed my bag from off of my shoulders, pulling the shovel out. "Let me dig her grave, big brother. You've done so much work in helping me, please... let me take this burden to dispose of her."
Assef nodded. "As you wish, Liebchen. But if you need any help, you need only ask. The ground looks soft enough that digging this grave shouldn't be too hard. Make sure it's deep enough, alright? Make sure that she fits in there."
"Of course, brother." Those were the last words spoken between us in that moment, as I set to work. Burying a corpse was nowhere near as fun a task as committing the murder in itself, but it was still something that needed to be done. I dug, and dug, a sheen of sweat covering my forehead. Damn, I thought, rolling my eyes, wish I'd brought a bigger fucking shovel.
Noticing that I was struggling, Assef walked over to help. He knelt beside me and began to scrape away more dirt. In tandem, we worked, finally creating a grave big enough to dump our victim into. Together, we hauled Zainab toward the open, shallow grave. Assef picked her up, for one final time, and tossed her in. She landed with a dull thump, a twisted finality. We covered her in dirt - kicking dust onto her corpse, leaving her to rot like the nothing she was.
I stepped back from the grave, wrapping my arms around my brother's waist. No more words were spoken, for there was nothing else that needed to be said. The gratitude that I felt towards him, for all of the effort he'd put into helping me. Assef had just become an accessory to murder for me. Was there no other proof of his devotion to me, and mine to him, than this?
My brother's love invigorated me, it always did. And now, standing on the marks of my gruesome handiwork, I felt another surge of energy, burning through my veins, jolting the fibres of my being like an electric shock. It was the thrill of death, the thrill of knowing just what I was capable of. It made me feel as though I could do anything, as though I could take on the world.
It made me feel, if you will, like a god.
Thank you for reading! Please comment, subscribe and follow if this story interests you and you would like to read further. I appreciate every single one of my readers - truly, it means a lot to me.
In the next chapter, we explore yet another scene from the original novel, as a tumultuous event in Afghanistan's history rocks Saria's world. And how will she react when a chance encounter with Amir causes more tension between her new obsession and her big brother?
Wishing you all a pleasant day. Look for the next chapter coming up soon. I try to get them down at least every two weeks to a month, so that this story may continue on in a timely fashion.
