In the last chapter, Saria's world was rocked when Tanya informed her that Zainab's body had been found. Her mother seemed to take the news particularly badly, showing a kindness to her daughter that she never had before, which did little to assuage Saria's frayed nerves. Despite being comforted by Assef, Saria still can't help but to fear what the future has in store. Now, we find her about to return to school after the winter holidays, but a chance encounter on the playground may spell the beginning of a tumultuous school year.
I do not own the Kite Runner, or any of its characters, settings, and plots. I also do not condone, support or accept the actions, words and thoughts undertaken by the characters in this story - or by those of a like mind to them. This is a work of fiction and should not be accepted or condoned in real life.
With that said, please enjoy the next chapter! As always, comments and feedback are more than welcome.
Weekends in the Ahmed household pass, as most days do, with a certain degree of tension and awkwardness. The weekend following the discovery of Zainab Niazai's body, and the uncomfortable discussion that Tanya had chosen to have with me regarding that, was one of the most awkward and, dare I admit it, anxiety inducing that I have, up to that point, ever experienced in my short life. The realization that the fruits of my criminal labour were being investigated was almost too much for me to handle, and it was only through the gentle machinations of my darling brother that I had gotten through without entirely breaking down.
Assef held me whilst I wept, carding his fingers through my golden hair and whispering tender comforts into my ear. He rocked me as I lay in his arms, my head pressed against his chest, trying desperately to concentrate on nothing but the sound of his heartbeat, the reassurance that he was here with me, that I was safe, and that nothing was ever going to take him from me. Nothing. Yet even he could not quite stem the torrent of weeping that had resulted - not from any semblance of guilt or remorse for the life my actions had taken, but from the abject terror of the consequences that might befall us if the police investigation were to drudge up any evidence that pointed in our direction. This was our first kill, and there may have been something that we missed, despite how careful we were. Neither Assef nor myself truly knew how capable the police were of finding evidence, and the idea that they may soon come knocking upon our door was one that filled me from the inside out, and made my tears flow all the more freely.
Eventually, however, the tears subsided, though the horrors that had brought them unbidden to the forefront of my mind had yet to cease. Still, with the help of my beloved, I managed to calm myself, and get my breathing under control. That had left me, unfortunately, with a burning ache in my throat, and the need to quench it. Assef had, to his credit, offered to go and get me a glass of water, but I refused him, saying it would perhaps take my mind off of everything to have even a small task with which to distract myself. And so, down to the kitchen I had wandered, pouring myself a nice cool glass of water which I had every intention of returning upstairs with.
I was just getting ready to go back upstairs, when the door had opened and in stepped the last person that I wanted to see. The person who I had seen more than enough of on that turbulent evening. None other than Tanya. She walked through the door, and stopped in her tracks at the sight of me. I knew I must have looked a right state, clutching that glass of water in shaking hands, my cheeks red, my eyes brimming with the well of unshed tears that I could not, and would not, let her see. And in Tanya's eyes, I saw concern, fear, and something else I did not quite recognise.
"I... I was just... a little thirsty," I'd stammered out, placing the glass back on the kitchen counter-top as I laced my hands together and lowered my head in quiet submission. "Forgive me, I don't mean to be in your way. I'll just-"
But before I could say another word, before I could stutter out another apology, or curtsy, or do anything that may persuade her to leave me alone, Tanya stepped forward and extended her arms to me. Were this any other family, I would have gone to her, would have felt comfortable in seeking the reassurance that a mother's love could provide. I would have allowed her, right then and there, to wrap me in her arms and soothe my fears. But that was not the family in which I had been raised, and honestly, it was out of fear of punishments - and no real need for motherly countenance - that I went to her.
Allowing myself to be drawn into her embrace, I fell limply into her arms. Tanya pressed my small frame against her body, carding her fingers through my hair. She swayed from left to right foot, rocking us together as she began to once more hum a soothing German lullaby into my ear. It was one of the most awkward, and downright uncomfortable moments that I'd ever experienced in my entire life. I couldn't stop thinking of my brother, upstairs, waiting for me to return to him. Though I tried to look at the clock to gauge the time, I couldn't quite move my head to do so, given how tightly I was pressed against my mother. If only I could send a telepathic message to my other half, letting him know that I was in need of rescue.
Fortunately for me, however, it wasn't long before Tanya released me from her embrace, though she kept a grip on my arms, making it impossible for me to get away. Holding me at arm's length, she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "I can't imagine how frightened you must be," she said, in a patronisingly sweet voice, "given what happened, and you're so young, far too young to be affected by such a horrible crime..." Too young. Indeed. Notice how she didn't mention a specific age? I almost wanted to crack a sarcastic retort about her forgetting my birthday, but wisely refrained.
Tanya continued, rubbing her thumb along my arm. "But I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. If ever you need someone to talk to, then you come to me, okay? Mommy will always be here for her little girl, remember that."
I didn't quite know how to respond to that. How strange it was, to have the same woman who spent so much of her time beating and belittling me, now offering an understanding ear with which to listen as I unburdened myself of my woes. But, as I muttered a polite, "Thank you, Mommy. I shall keep your kind words in mind, should ever I have need of your countenance. Goodnight," picked up my glass of water and slipped past her before she could say another word, and returned upstairs to my brother, I couldn't help but wonder what she would think if I truly unburdened myself to her.
What would she think, I pondered, as I traipsed up one stair at a time, doing my best to make sure that the water didn't slosh out of the glass. Would she still fret over me, still worry about my well-being, still draw me in for awkward embraces, if she knew that it was I who ended Zainab's life? Would she uphold her position of 'you can tell me anything' if that 'anything' constituted the fact that her youngest child was a murderer, and her eldest was an accessory to that fact? Would I still be her little girl if she truly knew what I was capable of?
Oh, but I think we all know the answer to that, don't we? Even now, days later, as I sat at my vanity, staring into the mirror, I couldn't help but to imagine just how horrified my mother would be, if I relayed the whole sordid details about what had transpired on that fateful day. I could just imagine it. Approaching her, all deference and subservience as usual, and telling her I needed to talk to her. Then, when she agreed, and we sat down to have this discussion, I pictured myself spilling out every sordid detail. Telling her how meticulously the crime had been planned out, how I chased a frightened Zainab across rough terrain, up and down hills, and all the way into that abandoned house.
How the "poor girl" as Tanya had put it had first tried to fight against me, only to switch so easily to pleas for mercy when she saw the knife I had in my hand. How wonderful it felt to pin her down and stab that blade into her skin, the feeling of euphoria that washed over me as I drove it into her flesh, then took it out, then drove it in again. How powerful I was in that moment, me, little four-foot-tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pretty, porcelain doll Saria Ahmed, wielding the weapon that for those brief minutes as the life drained from Zainab Niazai's eyes, made me a God above gods. Yes, imagine it. Imagine the look on Tanya's face when she learned this. The pure horror that she would feel. How quickly she would go from 'motherly concern' to 'abject horror'. Any faux feelings of love that she dished out to me would be thrown out and replaced forever with unadulterated hatred.
But of course, I could not say that. I could never say it. To do so would be to implicate the other half of my soul, and I would never, ever, dare to put my Assef at risk like that. Even if the prospect of a world wherein I could horrify my mother with the graphic details of my crimes was, I'll admit, an oddly humorous one, I knew that in reality, I would have to keep a straight face. Even more so right now, in this very moment, for as I sat here, hands placed demurely in my lap, eyes slightly downcast, back straight in my chair, not only did I see my own face in my vanity mirror, but also that of the very woman I speak of, stood behind me, brushing my hair.
Yes, that's correct. As if it wasn't bad enough that today marked the end of the winter holidays, and a return to the early-mornings, itchy uniform, boring lessons, and a classroom full of girls that were nearly all stupid and annoying (the exception being myself and Adia, of course), my mother had taken it upon herself to steal away from whatever else she might have been doing this morning, to enter my room and ask if she could brush my hair for me.
Or... perhaps I should be more accurate in my phrasing. She demanded that I let her brush my hair. I believe her exact wording was "I will be brushing your hair today, daughter," as she motioned for me to sit down. Of course, there was no way that I could refuse, not unless I wanted to risk her, for lack of a better term, "good mood", and have the day start off with a lecture in respect. Returning to school was bothersome enough, I didn't need my mother to make it worse, and with her attitude fluctuating as often as it did, that was a risk I just wasn't willing to take. And with that in mind, I obediently walked to my vanity, sat down, and handed my mother the brush, with a murmuring of thanks as I did so.
As Tanya began the arduous process of running the brush through my hair, while I sat still and quiet like her porcelain doll, I couldn't help but think of just how strange this entire concept was. I know, I know, a little girl's mother brushing her hair on the first day back to school isn't weird. In fact, in a normal family, it might even be considered sweet. But we were the Ahmeds, and normal was not a word that anyone could ever use to describe us. It wasn't that Tanya had never brushed my hair before school. She used to, back when I was younger, when I hand't quite learned how to take care of my own hygiene needs and she didn't want me to go to school with a few strands out of place. Because heaven fucking forbid that five-year-old Saria had lopsided pigtails.
But once I became old enough to style myself in a way that was met her standards, she left me to my own devices. I was a bright, self-sufficient child, and by the time I was six, I was brushing my own hair, tying it up with the pretty ribbons that I still wore to this day. Once I was done - and I always had to be finished in a timely manner - I would find Tanya and present myself to her. I had to stand, head bowed in submission, as she looked me up and down, grabbing and pinching with her claw-like nails, twisting and turning me, ensuring that my uniform was acceptable, and ensuring that not a hair was out of place. If she happened to see one, she would drag me back up the stairs, forcefully shove me into the very chair that I was sitting in right now, and yank the brush roughly through my hair, to the point where I had been left in tears on more than one occasion.
Of course, if I happened to cry in front of Tanya, I would be opening myself up to receive a harsh scolding and be told to stop whinging, lest she summon Mamhood, who would really give me something to cry about. If we happened to be running late, and Mahmood's belting services were unavailable, she'd lay the insults on thick, calling me a 'foolish little girl' and telling me I'd better stop blubbering or else I'd really be in for it when I returned from school. Those were not idle threats, either - I remember many times being punished in the afternoon because of how I'd behaved that morning. My fault, naturally. In Tanya's eyes, at least. If I had just brushed my hair properly, she always said, then she wouldn't have needed to do it for me.
After suffering through several attempts of this indignation, I learned quickly to adhere to her standards, and never to allow myself to break from them. Even if that meant getting up far earlier than should have been necessary in order to get myself organised. But losing precious thirty or more minutes of extra sleep had always been worth it, if it meant I didn't have to deal with Tanya's mood-swings and perfectionism.
The Tanya that stood behind me now, though, well, that was a vastly different woman from the mother I'd known before. Her countenance was gentler, far more tender and sweet than ever she had been on those other mornings. She first ran her fingers through my hair, softly, checking for any knots - though there was none, given that I'd already brushed it thoroughly the night before, as was a ritual of mine. Then, when she finally got around to brushing it, she showed a benevolence that I did not believe her capable of possessing. It was... odd.
I stared at Tanya through the mirror. She was currently finishing up with the brushing part of styling my hair, and was now in the separating it out into pigtails. No conversation had taken place regarding whether or not I wanted my hair to be in pigtails, and I hadn't requested it, but I wasn't about to get into that. Tanya's good moods were like butterflies on windy days; they could be blown away, never to return, in an instant. It would take only one wrong move from me, and the nice, motherly personality that seemed to have infiltrated my mother's body would be gone, and it was with that knowledge in mind that I merely lowered my gaze submissively, and permitted her to go about fixing my hair into whatever style she wanted.
"You must be looking forward to going back to school," Tanya said. It was the first time that she'd spoken to me all morning, and though her tone was even and somewhat light, there was still an undercurrent of superiority to her words. The sentence was not phrased as a question, for one, but rather as a statement of fact. As if she had already made up her mind regarding what my opinion on this matter was.
"Yes, Mama, very much so," I responded, my gaze still downcast. Of course, in reality, I'd much rather have stayed home and spent those precious hours with my darling brother, rather than wasting time boring time in a classroom, but saying that would open up the door to a lecture about how fortunate I was to be getting this education, how there were girls out there who would never have this opportunity, and how I should not let all the money that my parents had spent on providing it for me go to waste. As I said, Tanya's good mood could evaporate in an instant, and once she slipped into negativity, she would take it out on the whole family, my brother included. I certainly would not be the one who risked my Assef being on the receiving end of her sharp and cruel tongue, and so I once more resigned myself to parroting back everything she wanted to hear.
Still, there was one part of the school year that I knew would brighten up even the dreariest of days. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate for me to say, a certain person that would bring me joy. And that, of course, was sweet, lovely Adia. For the first time ever, I would have a friend at school with me. A classmate that actually did care about me, that actually wanted to have me around. I could just picture her, obedient and docile, following me around like an eager little puppy, always doing what I wanted, always ready to serve my every whim. Yes, having Adia around would make my schooldays all that more easy to bear, and I couldn't help but to voice this opinion, or at least, some of it, to Tanya.
Glancing in the mirror, I caught her eye for a moment before lowering my gaze to my lap once again. "If I may say, Mama," I began, interlocking my fingers together as I felt her brush out my left pigtail, "I'm really looking forward to having Adia as a classmate. It'll be so nice to have my best friend there."
Tanya placed a hand on my shoulder, once again causing me to tense up. Don't react, don't react, I internally warned myself. Easier said than done, though. I had some very negative connotations associated with this gesture, as you might well imagine, and as I felt the claw-like grip of her hand, I couldn't help but picture all the times that she had done so while steering me over to Mahmood so that I could face a whipping for another for whatever minor transgression I supposedly had committed. I wanted to move away from her, but I knew that doing so would cause her attitude to turn on a dime. So instead, I just sat there, and tried to ignore every instinct that screamed for me to run.
"I'm glad to hear that you and Adia are getting along so well," Tanya said. She rubbed my shoulder,in one of the most awkward moments of physical contact that I had ever experienced, then went right back to fixing up my pigtails. "Pass me those ribbons, Saria," she then ordered, pointing to them on my vanity table. I did as I was bid, and Tanya began securing my hair, continuing to speak as she did so. "I'm glad you and Adia are getting along so well," she said, and though she tried to hide it, I could hear the levity and... pride?... in her voice. A little strange that, out of all the reasons she might have to be proud of me, that making a friend was one of them. "She's such a lovely girl, isn't she?"
I nodded, and was about to answer verbally, when Tanya spoke again. "And her family, of course, such wonderful people. Your father and I have always thought so very, very highly of the Kalaharis." Very highly of their money and affluence, you mean, I thought. And therein, lay the real reason that Tanya was proud of me for having made friends with Adia. It had nothing to do with the fact that her daughter had finally made a friend in school, no, all she cared about was that her machinations, her attempts to use me as her bait to ensure that her and Mahmood's alliance with the Kalaharis remained smooth sailing.
Yes, I may have taken it upon myself to cultivate this friendship with Adia for my own benefit, but that didn't mean I wasn't acutely aware of the fact that my parents were using me as their little bargaining chip to ensure that they remained in her family's good books. Whether or not Adia and I truly cared for each other, whether or not we might really be considered friends, that was entirely irrelevant to them. All that mattered was that she and I appeared friendly.
No doubt Tanya and Mahmood expected me to be the subservient one in this relationship. For me to be the one acquiescing to Adia's demands, allowing her to take the lead in our relationship. And while that may have been how things looked to the outside world, with me so often portraying myself as the sweet and docile friend that would do anything to make Adia happy, in reality, it was quite the other way around.
As Tanya waxed poetic about how great it was that Adia and I were getting along so well, I couldn't help but to wonder what school mornings were like in the Kalahari household. Did Faraya brush Adia's hair for her, as Tanya was now doing for me? Was Adia sitting in a chair, or perhaps on her bed, with Faraya behind her, helping her to get ready for the day ahead? If so, then I doubted that they were sitting in awkward silence together, and I highly doubted that Adia would have felt the need to keep her gaze downcast. No, she was probably enjoying the comfort of her mother's gentle, tender machinations.
Did they talk about me, I wondered, did Adia and Faraya talk about how nice and good and wonderful my family was, just as Tanya expected me to do for them? Were they waxing poetic about what a lovely family the Ahmeds are, not knowing the true darkness that lurked behind the picture-perfect image we put out to the world? Yet as I thought about this, about how nearly every image we put forth to the Kalaharis was a lie, I couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that they, too, didn't have the idyllic life that they showed to us. Was it not mere weeks ago that I had listened to Faraya and Javid screaming at one another, that I had found out that not only did they have volatile arguments, but also their only son was dying? Was I not the one who had needed to cradle their daughter in my arms, holding her whilst she sobbed and let loose a barrage of emotions, the likes of which I had no idea how to truly handle?
It seemed then that both families were hiding some intrinsic darkness, did it not? Though... perhaps... more for some than others. After all, Adia certainly didn't have to worry about her mother finding out that she'd committed murder, now, did she? Her little mind wasn't full of thoughts on all the horrible consequences she might face if her crimes were found out. She didn't have to worry about the police investigating the stab-wound riddled body that she'd left in her wake. Indeed, the very thought of Adia, timid, skittish, easily rattled, couldn't say boo to a goose Adia, perpetrating any sort of crime, much less killing someone - whether that be for revenge or no - was so strangely humorous to me that I couldn't help but allow a short chuckle to escape from my lips.
"What's so funny?" Tanya asked, and I internally cursed myself for allowing my emotions to show in front of her. Damn it! Damn it! Stupid, Saria! You know better! I instantly snapped my mouth shut, and went back to being the stoic robot that she expected me to be. But, sadly, Tanya was still looking expectantly at me and I knew she would not let the subject go until she received a verbal response.
Shrugging, I went with the best explanation that came to mind. "Oh, it's nothing, Mama. I was just thinking of all the fun that Adia and I are going to have today."
Tanya smiled, then, and I felt like I'd entered an entirely new dimension. Smiling Tanya was like Friendly Tanya or Hugging Tanya. I should have been comforted that she was being warm and kind instead of dismissive and cruel, but instead, I felt like I was about to step into a lake that contained a hidden crocodile. Any moment now and she would swim up from the depths, grab my ankles, and drag me down to the depths. Any minute now and I would regret being open with her, even in the slightest of ways.
She finished up tying the ribbons in my hair, then placed them over my shoulders, one on each side, neat, of equal lengths, making me look once more like some sort of porcelain doll rather than a living, breathing child. As she did so, the smile disappeared from her face. "That's all well and good, Saria, but you aren't attending that school to have fun, or goof around with your friend. You're there to learn, and both your father and I expect you to conduct yourself in the proper manner at all times. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of what will happen should you get into any trouble at school, do I?"
Abso-fucking-lutely not, I thought, remembering with painful clarity the rule that Mahmood and Tanya had drilled into my head from the moment I attended my first day of school. Punished at school meant punished at home as well, and doubly so. It didn't matter the circumstances, if I came home from school with a note saying I'd done something wrong, then I could expect to get a beating from either Mahmood or Tanya. I was never given the chance to truly explain - or if I did, any explanation I gave was never, ever good enough. In the end, it just became easier to submit, apologise (regardless of whether or not I felt any remorse) and take the whipping owed to me.
The threats of such whippings lingered long within my fragile psyche, to the point where I found myself almost instinctively cowed by Tanya's rebuke. I glanced timidly into the mirror and saw her reflected there, her lips pursed into a thin line, eyes narrowed, staring at me expectantly. Well, we were starting our return to normal, at the very least. Gone was Friendly Tanya, and in her place was the ticking-time bomb that I had learned, over time, to properly diffuse. I once again tore my gaze away from the mirror, and back to the floor. When I spoke, I made sure to really dial the submissive tone up to eleven. "Of course, Mama. I know what is expected of me, and I'll be on my best behaviour at all times, you have my word."
"Good girl." I bristled at the patronising 'compliment', but before I could say or do anything else, she spoke again. "Now, Saria, stand and present yourself to me, so that I might see if your uniform is acceptable."
I rose as ordered, stepped around the chair, and stood in front of Tanya, taking the accepted position for an inspection. Arms by my sides, knees slightly bent, and head bowed. Not moving. Not saying a word, not daring to move, until my outfit and appearance were deemed worthy. Of course, the uniform that I was wearing today was the same one worn by all the girls in my school; a navy-blue pinafore with undershirt, tights, and matching shoes. Tanya would bring me to town each year to buy a new one. Not that there was ever any real need - I still wore the same size clothes as an eight-year-old - but she just could not stand the idea of sending me to school in 'old' clothes.
Indeed, as I stood there in silence, trembling with the effort to hold position, but not daring to move an inch lest I be punished for insubordination, I couldn't help but to reflect on how nonsensical this whole inspection was. Let Tanya 'inspect' my everyday dresses to her heart's content - I didn't quite understand why, but at least those clothes were unique to me, and thus, it made some sense (in her weird mind, perhaps) to inspect them. But this uniform? Every girl in my school would be wearing this; so what was the point in checking mine? Just to see if perhaps, I'd managed to get it dirty whilst it had been hanging up in my closet.
After what seemed like an eternity of Tanya walking around me, looking at me from every angle, taking my arm and turning me left and right, without so much as an 'excuse me', she finally deemed me acceptable. Nodding, she motioned with one hand for me to rise. I did so, and in the brief moment while we looked at one another, Tanya's arms twitched. She moved them out from her side, then let them fall back down again. Almost as if she wanted to draw me in for a hug, but then decided against it.
"Thank you most kindly for brushing my hair, Mama," I said, both so that I could distract myself from the sheer awkwardness of the situation, and because I knew she would be expecting a show of gratitude for what she had done, despite it being a typical task that any good mother would do for her daughter. "I am pleased to know that my appearance meets your approval."
Tanya's mouth hardened in a thin line. "Indeed," she said, and began walking towards the door. "You had best be heading downstairs, child," she said, her tones back to being clipped and formal. "You and your brother will need to be leaving soon, that is, if you are still planning to walk to school together?" I nodded, a little irritated that she'd felt the need to even ask that question. Assef had always walked me to school, from the moment our parents deemed us old enough to venture into the streets alone. "Well then." Tanya was almost in the upstairs hall now. "Get a move on, you don't want to be late. And make sure you've got all your books and supplies in your schoolbag."
Those patronising words spoken, Tanya closed my door behind her, and made her way across the hall and down the stairs. I listened to her footsteps as they grew quieter, until I could no longer hear them. Then, I retrieved my schoolbag - a brown satchel - from off my bed, and after a cursory search to ensure that I hadn't left anything behind - because Tanya's words still rung in my head, no matter how much I tried to block them out - I put on my coat; a navy button-up, and was, finally, ready to go.
Slipping quietly out of my room and closing the door behind me, I made my way down the stairs, and into the living room, where Assef and Mahmood sat on opposite ends of the couch, neither saying a word to one another, both looking as if they'd rather be anywhere in the world but there. I wondered how long my other half was forced to sit there, with the father we both detested, and felt a pang of guilt for making him wait.
I wanted to go to him, to enfold myself in his embrace and feel the warmth of his comforting arms wrapped around me, but before I could move, Mahmood tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch, a sign that he wanted my attention. Turning to face him, I noted the stern look perpetually plastered to his face. Well, at least he was consistent, unlike Tanya. The one thing I could count on with my father, I always knew what I had with him.
With a glance in my beloved's direction, in which we both shared a look that spoke volumes of how ridiculously formal both our parents were, I made my obeisance to Mahmood, lowering myself once more into a curtsy, and wondering as I did so if my parents would ever come to the realization that they were not, in fact, the royalty that they seemed to think of themselves as. That it was nonsense to make their own daughter bow and scrape like a pathetic commoner. Oh, how I yearned to knock some sense into them, using whatever violent means possible, but alas, that would not happen.
For the longest time, Mahmood just stared at me, leaning back and observing my show of deference with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. In reality, it was only a few moments, but it felt like eternity. My thighs burned with the strain of keeping them bent, my cheeks burned at this humiliation. Finally, however, Mahmood waved a hand, and said, in an imperious tone, "stand, child." I did so, breathing an internal sigh of relief.
Mahmood clicked his fingers in my beloved's direction, making me bristle at the disrespect being shown. "You two need to get going," he demanded, "you don't want to be late on your first day back to school." Assef got to his feet, rolling his eyes behind our father's back. He straightened his tie, then bent down to grab his own rucksack, which had been placed on the floor near the couch.
Slinging it over his shoulder, he walked to me and extended his hand. "Ready to get going, Liebchen?" he asked, not even bothering to say goodbye to our father. I nodded, and gave him the smile that was always and forever just reserved for him. The world fell away in that instance, as my tiny hand gripped his, and we looked at each other. Indeed, the presence of Mahmood and Tanya - who had entered the room and was now standing in the doorway, did not matter one jot to me anymore.
All the same, in the back of my mind, I recognised that I ought to adhere to proper standards and say goodbye to them, as they might take grave offence if I didn't. I inclined my head in Mahmood's direction, then in Tanya's. "Goodbye, Mama, goodbye, Papa. I'll see you later." Not that I want to.
"Yes, see you later," Assef said, brusquely, and gave my hand a little squeeze. "Come, Saria." We began walking our way out the door, both of us clearly relieved that soon, we would not have to be home for a few hours. But before we could escape, Tanya just had to interrupt. Right before we left the living room, she extended a hand and grabbed my darling's arm. He stopped in his tracks, looking at her with a raised brow. I wanted to throw her unworthy hands away from him, she who had no right to touch my soulmate.
"Assef, a word," Tanya demanded, pointing him out into the hall. My brother and I once more shared a glance, our eyes speaking the words that our mouth's could not, before he focused his attention on the blonde bitch. "Of course, Mother," he said, in a sickeningly sweet voice. Then, he looked down at me and placed a hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair, before gesturing to the door. "Please go and wait for me outside, Saria. I won't be long."
His tone was that which one uses when speaking to a much younger child, and while it did irk me to be addressed in such a manner, I understood that he was doing it for Tanya's benefit more than mine, and I could hardly place fault on him for that. Nodding in obedience, I let go of my brother's hand and walked towards the front door. Reaching up on tiptoe - and straining still even as I did that - I got the latch undone, and slipped outside, giving one final look into the hall, where Tanya was now whispering something to Assef that I couldn't quite hear.
I leaned against the outer walls, my right leg tucked under myself, and absently drummed my fingers against my satchel. As I did so, I just couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, Tanya wanted to speak to Assef about, and just why I wasn't allowed to be privy to that conversation. What was so important that she needed to say it to him right as we were about to leave, and why, just why, was I not deemed worthy to hear it? I almost wanted to turn and look through the letterbox in the hopes that I might be able to gauge a better experience of what was going on, but I refrained from doing so. It seemed, then, that all I could do was wait.
But not for long, as the door soon opened, and out stepped my brother, a tense expression on his face. His jaw was set, his mouth pursed in a thin line, his blue eyes conveying much yet being evermore unreadable at the same time. He noticed me waiting for him, and beckoned me over, to which I came with not a moment's hesitation. The moment that we were close enough that we could speak to one another, I immediately asked just what had gone on in there. What, exactly, our mother had wanted with him.
Assef looked down at me, still with that unreadable expression. "It's nothing, Saria, nothing," he said, trying to skirt around the issue. But I could tell that something was a little off with him, and being the devoted sister that I am, I would not let the issue go without first ensuring that my beloved had gotten all his troubles off of his chest. He must have seen that determination written on my face, for he reached out to cup the side of my face, running his thumb along my cheek. "Tanya was just being her usual patronising self, that's all. Telling me to be careful and look after you when I'm taking you to school, as if I need to be told that."
Well, if that didn't set my blood to a boil, then I know not what could. That was what the bitch wanted to talk to him about? That was what she had wasted his precious time for? To remind him to take care of me? As if he hadn't been doing that, far better than she and her pathetic husband ever could, from the moment I came into the world? I turned back towards the house, and glared, as if I might be able to impart my loathing for her through the walls.
"Fucking bitch," I seethed, rolling my eyes. And just like that, any sentimental feeling that Tanya might have hoped to impart within me via our time together this morning vanished into the ether. She had disrespected my other half, and in doing so, she had disrespected me, just as surely as if she had spat right in my face. I took Assef's hand in mine and interlocked our fingers together, squeezing gently so as to both comfort him and myself.
It worked, fortunately, for my brother's expression softened instantly, and he smiled down at me. "An apt statement, if ever there was one, little sister," he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "But come now, I suppose we'd better get going, we don't want to be late for school." Together, we rolled our eyes at one another, both knowing we would like nothing more than to skip our lessons and spend the day together, and began the walk down the driveway, out the front gates, and into the street.
The walk to school would take us about twenty-five minutes. More time than if we had opted to take a ride from Mahmood, which would have cut the journey in half, at the very least, but my love and I would make the extra effort if it meant that we could spent those precious moments with one another before we would need to be parted for the long, arduous hours of classes that awaited us.
For a while, we just strolled along together, engaged in passionate conversation about everything and anything that interested us. I hung on my brother's every word, regardless of the topic. I loved the sound of my Assef's voice, and would happily listen to him all day. Yet as we made our way into the market place, which we would need to cross in order to get to school, I couldn't help but to take note of just how much more cautious and on-edge everyone seemed to be. There was a definite air of tension that permeated the hustle and bustle of the morning, and it was in hushed German tones that I brought this up to my brother as we walked.
"Everyone just seems so tense," I mused, drawing closer to him. "So... sad, weirdly enough. Is it... I mean... do you think it's because of... well, you know..." I trailed off, not wanting to say Zainab's name out loud, lest we be overheard by someone who, while they may not have understood our conversation in full, might have been suspicious as to why the dead girl's name fell from my lips.
"Maybe so, Liebchen," Assef said, as finally we moved out of the busy market and gained some modicum of privacy. "I mean, I personally, think we've done the world a huge favour in taking out the trash, but I guess other's don't really see it that way." He laughed, then, and I did too, thriving in the joy that came from having someone whose thoughts were so often my own. Indeed, who else would joke with me so cruelly about a person who's life we had taken?
Then, Assef became more pensive, as something else crossed his mind. "You know, Saria, now that I think about it, the current... situation... is probably what's causing our mother to act so, well... so tense lately."
That's an understatement, I thought, recalling just how much Tanya seemed to be hovering around me these past few days. "Make sense, I guess. She's been acting weird ever since we got the news. Always wanting to be near me, wanting to talk. Hell, she even brushed my hair this morning, and she was nice about it. Uh, nice for Tanya, I mean. It's... it's sort of... unsettling, really."
Assef looked at me sympathetically. He placed his free hand, the one not holding my own, on my back, tenderly rubbing my shoulders for a moment. "I feel the same way, though she's not nearly as bad with me as I know she is with you." At this, I found myself wondering just what our mother had done or said to him these past few days, how her new personality had come out around Assef as opposed to when she was with me. "But I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's probably just the shock of what happened. And, well-" He looked around, glancing back and forth to make sure we could still be granted some privacy. "I mean, you and Zainab were the same age. Or, similar enough in age that hearing about what happened to her might worry Tanya. She probably just doesn't know how to deal with this, and it's making her act odd. That's all. She'll stop once the shock has worn off, you'll see."
I wasn't entirely sure about that. Deep down, part of me feared that the new and improved, more attentive Tanya Ahmed was here to stay, and I didn't want that. Maybe when I was younger, I might have yearned for her to be a mother figure to me, but that ship had long since sailed, and now just the thought that she might become more of a prominent fixture in my life was one that made my stomach churn. "I really hope you're right, Assef," I told my brother, in tones that conveyed nothing less of the sheer hell that would befall us should his words fail to come true.
With a tenderness that none other could have shown me, my dearest pulled me to him, for a one-armed hug, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "I'm right, sister, trust me on this. You won't need to endure Tanya's constant presence for much longer. She'll find something else with which to occupy her time, and she'll go right back to ignoring us. Well, unless she needs someone to berate, that is."
"That's at least something familiar to contend with," I mused, looking wistfully ahead. In the distance, mere feet away, I could see the wrought iron gates that lead into my school building. Almost there. Well, I was, at least. Assef's school was near to mine, yes, but a few minutes of a walk past it, so he would need to drop me off first. The mere idea of parting from my dearest brother was enough to tighten the knots in my stomach once again. Every step felt like time was speeding up and slowing down all at once. Had it really been twenty-five minutes since we'd left home?
It must have been, as soon we were stopping outside the school gates, which were open so as to allow students entry. Up ahead, stood the large, imposing, grey building that would become my prison for the next few hours. I felt another sense of foreboding run through me as I stared at it. Tearing my gaze away for a moment, I steeled myself to say farewell to my beloved.
Tapping my foot against the ground, I let out a deep sigh. "I wish I didn't have to leave you," I whispered, sidling ever closer to my brother, wanting nothing more than to plead for him to stay.
Assef drew me into his arms, pulling me into an embrace, as he clutched my little frame to his chest. For what seemed like the most blissful eternity, we just stood there, holding one another, and I basked in the tender warmth of his gentle touch. "It won't be for too long, Sar," Assef reassured me, pressing a kiss to the side of my head and tilting my chin up so that we were looking in one another's eyes. "I'll be thinking of you, and waiting for the moment that I can come get you again. You'll just need to be patient, and once school is done, we'll have the rest of the day to ourselves."
At least that was something. That the time in which I had to be away from the twin half of my soul, grating as it may be, would be short. I could handle a few short hours in this hellhole if it meant that Assef and I would have the afternoon to ourselves. Perhaps I could even dream up some clever ways for us to hurt more hapless victims. It had been so long since last we went on a Just-Because, after all.
I relayed this information to Assef, with a budding grin on my face. He smiled back, and bending so that we were on an equal level, lifted my tiny hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it, making me flush crimson. As he did so, I happened to notice something out of the corner of my eye.
A girl, about twelve or so - though naturally a damn foot taller than me - was passing by us on her way through the gates. Just before she did so, she stopped and looked at us. Just... stared, and rather rudely, too. I glanced at her, and our eyes met. She had shoulder-length brown hair, with a fringe held back from her eyes with a butterfly clip, and a pointed chin. She didn't look at all familiar to me, and thus, I realised, she must be new here.
What, exactly, is the issue with me saying goodbye to my brother? I wondered, rolling my eyes to heaven. The girl disappeared behind the gates, and I told myself to purge all thoughts of her from my mind. No doubt just some idiotic little brat with nothing better to do than just stick her nose into other people's business. That was all. What point was there in getting upset about such things?
"I... I should get going now." I focused my attention back on my darling, sadly pulling away from him. "I'll see you later, Assef jan. I love you."
"I love you, too, Liebchen. I'll be waiting right here for you when school ends. Have a good day."
Assef pulled away from me, and began walking in the opposite direction. I watched him leave, steeling myself to remain where I was and not go chasing off after him. But then I figured that I would need to start making my way into the schoolyard. Didn't want to be late and get into trouble, after all. I adjusted my satchel, and began walking across the tarmac.
I scanned the playground as I did so, looking from left to right, surveying the gaggle of young girls still outside, catching amongst themselves, wondering if perhaps I might catch sight of Adia. Maybe she would be sitting at one of the benches, or playing a game of hopscotch before she had to go inside. Or was I simply hoping that she would be waiting for me? Hoping that my best friend would have taken it upon herself to wait so that we might go into school together. It wouldn't be too much to ask, now would it? But try as I might, I couldn't see hide nor hair of Adia.
She must have already gone inside, I thought, rolling my eyes, as I continued my trek across the playground. Then hopefully it wouldn't take me too long to find Adia when I did get inside. The morning would be made ever more sweeter if I could bask in her praise, share a friendly word or two with her before lessons would begin. As I've said, no matter what new and uncomfortable things this school year may bring, I knew that I could get through them, if I had my devoted acolyte by my side.
And speaking of "new", remember that girl I mentioned earlier? The one who staring at my brother and I? Well, it turned out that we would be getting more acquainted soon; and not in any manner that I would have liked. So engrossed was I in my thoughts about what this new school term might bring, that I didn't even notice that I was walking right into someone's path. I tried to move out of the way, but it was too late, and with an awkward 'crash' we both collided with one another.
The girl staggered, obviously not expecting to have been bumped into. We both wobbled, and I fell forward, the girl tumbling to the ground and me very nearly landing on top of her. But I managed to remain on my feet, though I swayed for a moment, a little disoriented by our collision. The girl lay on her back, clearly dazed by the shock of what just happened. Not that I could blame her. It's not every day that you expect to be bumped into, one what must have been her first day of school. What a first impression, am I right?
Normally, I would have just ignored or stepped around her, far be it from me to give two shits about someone I barely even knew - but in this moment, I figured that it would be better to not start this year off on the wrong foot with anyone, and so, I swallowed my pride and extended a hand, putting on an expression of sorrow and remorse. "I'm so sorry, are you okay?" I exclaimed, as she took hold of my outstretched hand, using it to pull herself to her feet. "I really didn't mean- I just wasn't watching where I was going, too much in thought, I guess. I'm sorry. Truly." I gave her a cordial smile, but what happened next was something that I had not been expecting in the least.
After using me as leverage to get back on her feet, the girl violently threw my hand away from her. "Why don't you watch where you're going next time, you idiot?!" she snarled, jabbing a finger right in my face. I was stunned, blinking rapidly as I tried and failed to bite back with a retort of my own. Then, she pushed me backwards, causing me to almost lose balance, before turning on her heel, swinging her rucksack on her shoulder with enough force to almost hit me right in the face. I flinched, taking a step back so as to avoid that, and by the time I managed to comprehend what had just happened, she was gone.
"What a bitch, what an absolute fucking cow!" I swore in German, digging my tiny hands into fists that I wished I could just swing full force at that girl's face. "Who the fuck does she think she is?" More obscenities fell from my lips, one after another, as I made my way inside. So much for a quiet and peaceful year, am I right? As I walked inside, I breathed deeply, trying to get my temper under control, reminding myself that it would be my head on the chopping block if I got into trouble.
I reached the classroom door, and looked around, seeing my classmates in their little groups, talking and laughing amongst one another as they waited for our Imam to arrive. I noticed Adia, standing on her own, a bit apart from the other girls. She looked a tad forlorn, the poor dear, and, not wanting to burden her with my own issues, I plastered a smile to my face and approached her. "Hello, Adia jan," I greeted her sweetly.
Adia looked towards me, her lips twitching in some attempt at a half-smile. "Hello, Saria jan," she replied, in a quiet tone. There were bags under her eyes, and her countenance seemed not nearly as bright nor as happy as she used to be. It reminded me of how worn down Faraya had appeared the last time I'd seen her, though in my mind, her daughter was of infinitely more worth than Faraya could ever be. And I would take it upon myself to return the light to Adia's eyes. Though I had not the power to take away the trouble from her life, or to save her brother from his impending doom. I might be able to take lives with ease, but saving them would be a lot harder.
I took Adia's hand in mine, and rubbed my thumb along the back of it. "It's nice to see you again," I told her, "are you looking forward to our lessons today?" A pathetic question, yes, but Adia was the type of girl who enjoyed school, and thus, I figured this was a good place to start a conversation. Adia nodded, and I patted her on the shoulder. "Me too. Well... I'm looking forward to break-time most of all." At this quip, we both smiled, and I was happy to see a tiny bit of light return to my friend's eyes.
Before our conversation could go on, however, Adia tensed up, looking to something, or rather, someone, behind me. She tugged on my hand. "Um... Saria... that girl behind you... she's been staring at you ever since you walked in. Do... do you know her?"
Who was it she spoke of, I hear you ask? Well, need I even mention that? I turned, and saw none other than the little cunt who had so rudely brushed aside my words of contrition earlier. Her eyes were narrowed, her face contorted into a mask of rage. How long had she been standing there, I wondered. How long had she been staring at the back of my head, as if wishing to burn a hole through my skull. Was she honestly still offended from earlier? Get over it already! It wasn't as if I'd crashed into her on purpose, was it?
Adia took a step back, pulling me with her, as though afraid the girl might pounce. "I haven't seen her around," she whispered, keeping a watchful gaze on my new enemy. "I mean... not just in school, but like... in Wazir-Akbhar-Khan as a whole. She must have just moved here. Why... why is she looking at us like that?" Us, indeed. For now the bitch had stepped it up a notch from just glaring at me, and had made a rather unpleasant face at poor, innocent Adia, too.
"I don't know her," I replied, in a tone barely above a whisper. "She must be new, yeah. We... uh... we got into an argument outside. I bumped into her and when I tried to apologise, she just, well, she just flipped out on me and now I guess she's still bothered by it. Whatever. Let her stare." With this, I took it upon myself to face the girl, raised my hand, and waved at her, as though daring her to come over and finish what she started.
Before she could do that, however, at was in this moment that our imam arrived. Mermon (Mrs) Yashfa, a middle-aged woman with beady little eyes and a thin mouth that seemed perpetually set into a thin line, as though she'd eaten a lemon and had consequently forgotten to spit it back out. She wore the usual grey blouse and skirt that had been her own personal 'uniform' for as long as I can remember, and her hair was swept up into a bun that rested on the top of her head, reminding me very much of a strict librarian.
The instant that she appeared, all fun and levity drained from us girls. We broke out of our groups, as our talking ceased immediately. Then, we formed a line, one behind the other, turning our collective focus to the ground as the thirty or so girls in my class myself included, all lowered our gaze in deference. I listened to the familiar sound of Mermon Yashfa's shoes making their way across the floor, as she approached the classroom door. She gave us all a look, as she passed, and I felt myself tense up a little as she did so. Her trademark strictness, it reminded me so much of Tanya; and it was for this reason that my feelings towards her were not at all pleasant, nor would they ever be.
She opened the door to the classroom, and beckoned for us to enter. One by one, we filed into the classroom, and began looking around for places to sit. Adia stood beside me, near enough so that I might once more take her little hand in mine should I feel the need. I watched my classmates find their seats and take out their books. "Let's sit together, shall we?" I whispered into her ear, feeling a sense of delight as she nodded obediently, and pointed at two desks a few rows back from the front.
Adia and I both made our way to these desks, and sat down. She took out her books, and I did the same, before lining up my pens and pencils neatly at the top of my desk. As I did so, I happened to glance around the classroom, and noticed that the disrespectful cow - who's name I was soon to learn - had not sat down yet. Instead, she stood by the imam's desk, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. Mermon Yashfa was in discussion with the girl, and though I wanted to know what being said between them, I simply could not.
My curiosity would be sated, however, as the new girl moved to stand at the top of the classroom, with Mermon Yashfa standing beside her. The imam began to speak, and as she did so, our attention was immediately focused on her. "Hello, girls," she said. A few echoed her greeting in turn, with myself being one of them. Satisfied with this, she continued on. "I hope that you're all feeling relaxed after the winter holidays, and are ready to put your heads down and get settled in for another year of work." Again, we responded in the affirmative, like the robots that we all became since entering the classroom.
Then, Mermon Yashfa took it upon herself to introduce the girl who stood beside her. "Now, girls, we have a new student joining us this year. This is Ahtrai, and she has moved here all the way from the Karteh-Char district." Ahtrai then smiled, and waved, though she looked a tad unsure as to why she was being put on the spot like this. Perhaps I might have felt sorry for her if she hadn't been so glaringly rude to me. "I trust that you will all do your best to make her feel welcome here." Mermon Yashfa's words were friendly, but her tone indicated that this was an order, not a request. Ahtrai looked around, trying to find somewhere that she might be able to sit, though, being new, she of course had not yet made friends with whom she could do so.
Fortunately for her - though not at all for yours truly - Mermon Yashfa took notice of this and motioned to a place where she could sit down. Two guesses where that was. Yes, that's right, next to me. There was a spare desk beside mine, and it was here that the imam gestured for Ahtrai to sit. "Please, Ahtrai, go and sit next to Saria."
Ahtrai looked to where the imam was pointing, seeing who would be her new desk-mate. The moment that her eyes locked on mine, her face fell, and she murmured something under her breath. Mermon Yashfa didn't notice, and I couldn't read Ahtrai's lips, though I knew it wasn't complimentary. But there was nothing that either of us could do about our situation, and thus, Ahtrai made her way to her desk, sat down, and got her books out.
It was then that Mermon Yashfa addressed the class once more, this time to speak of the topic that I would much rather we didn't discuss. "Before we begin our studies," she said, in a somber tone, "I must take this moment to express to you all my deepest condolences on the tragic loss of young Zainab Niazai. She was a ray of light in this school, and I for one am gravely saddened to know that I will never have again have the pleasure to teach her. I ask that we all take a moment to remember Zainab, and honour her memory."
Those are eloquent words for the cunt who kicked seven shades of shit out of me, I thought, folding my hands upon my desk and staring down at my lap. All around me, a somber silence fell over the class, as we spent a minute honouring the memory of Zainab. Yet, I was not the only one that did not care for the respect due to the dead. Ahtrai, too, had more important things on her mind. For even in this moment of silence, she glared at me, and as Mermon Yashfa began our lessons, Ahtrai made her distaste known.
She leaned towards me, tapping her fingers impatiently as she tried to get my attention. "You're the little bitch who walked into me earlier, aren't you?" she hissed. Yeah, and I had apologised for that, didn't I? I wanted to remind Ahtrai of this fact, but I knew that if Mermon Yashfa caught me talking during a lesson, then I would really be in for it. The woman had absolutely no tolerance for that kind of behaviour. So I just focused my attention to the top of the classroom, where Mermon Yashfa, now seated at her desk, had begun the morning's lesson.
I'll admit, I wasn't paying all that much attention to it. And neither, it seemed, was Ahtrai. There was but one person in that room who she cared about it, and she was doing everything in her power to make them notice her. "Hey! Hey, you!" A pause. "Saria, was it? I'm talking to you. Stop ignoring me, you fucking-" But whatever disrespectful slight may have fallen out of her lips was one that I never got the chance to hear, for it was in this moment that Mermon Yashfa's head snapped in our direction, and she noticed what was going on.
She rose from her desk, and made her way over to us, stopping in front of Ahtrai, and looking down at her with an imposing manner. "Ahtrai," she chastised, though not quite as stern as she could have been. Obviously, she was trying to understanding since Ahtrai was new here. "While I'm happy that you're trying to make friends-" Oh, that's one way of putting it, I thought, rolling my eyes. "- I do not tolerate any idle chit-chat in my classroom. There will be plenty of time for you and Saria to get to know each other during recess, so I ask that you do not interrupt or bother her while she's trying to learn. Please focus on your studies."
Ahtrai moved away from me, suitably chastened, and muttered an apology. She was, I could tell, absolutely bristling at the lecture, though I knew that was not nearly as much trouble as she could have gotten into. Mermon Yashfa looked at her for another moment, then walked back to her desk. As she did so, her gaze focused on me, and her thin-line mouth twitched into what one might refer to as a smile.
Indeed, over time, I had managed to hone my fine skills of charm and poise in order to worm my way into Mermon Yashfa's good books. Remember how I mentioned that she reminded me of Tanya? Well, the one good thing about this was that, over the years of bowing and scraping to my mother, I had learned the expert ways to ingratiate myself to those like her. Because of this, I had managed to become one of Mermon Yashfa's favourite students. She was still strict with me, of course, though perhaps not nearly as much as she was with the students that she did not like. I may not have been at all popular with the girls in my class, but when it came to getting out of trouble, was it not more beneficial to be a 'teacher's pet'? Or... to have the teacher wrapped expertly around your little finger?
The morning lesson continued unabated, with no further interruptions. Ahtrai must, no doubt, have been utterly humiliated to be scolded thusly on her first day in a new school. Under her breath, she murmured a curse word, glowering like a petulant child at Mermon Yashfa as the woman continued on with just whatever it was that she found it necessary to teach us in that moment. I believe, though I cannot hope to be quoted on this, that we were learning a new aspect of algebra that morning. Usually, I would have paid more attention, would have tried to let the imam's words sink in, so that I may more quickly be able to concentrate on the homework that I knew would be appointed to us for this evening, but try as I might... I just couldn't.
My mind was running amok, more thoughts filling me, burning me from the inside out. Thoughts of Zainab, of what progress might have been made into the investigation regarding her murder. As my pen scraped against my notepad, writing the information that I would need for late-night study, I found myself imagining the cops in the police-station, bent over their desks, reading any and all information that they may have gleaned since my victim was found. As the clock ticked, on and on, I could not stop myelf from imagining the very worst, as I had done for so long; that their investigation would lead right back to me.
What would they do, then, should they learn of who the 'monster' that they sought truly was? Surely they would come for me, of that there was no doubt, but when? Would they come to arrest me here, within the very classroom in which I now sat? I could picture it; the doors swinging open and two policemen — faceless yet terrifying all the same — wrestling me from out of my seat. I heard their words, ringing in my ears, filling me up from the inside out. "Saria Ahmed," I audibly imagined them saying, "you are under arrest for the murder of Zainab Niazai. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law." And on, and on. Then, they would drag me out of the school, paying no heed to my desperate screams, throw me into the back of a police car, and drive me away.
Such thoughts were enough to drive me into a near panic. I wanted to bolt, to feign some illness and be given leave to go home, but I knew that doing so would only cause more suspicion. It won't happen, Saria, I told myself, placing the heel of my hand against my temples, and rubbing it, desperate to get these awful thoughts from out of my mind. You remember your Assef's reassurances, do you not? You are a well-off young lady from an affluent neighborhood. The world knows you as a demure, gentle and perfect little girl. What reason would there be to arrest you? Purge such awful thoughts from your mind, for it is but your psyche being unnecessarily cruel.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ahtrai staring at me. She appeared to have been doing this every chance she got, every moment wherein the imam was not looking in our direction. I glanced to her, and saw her eyes narrowed into two, cat-like slits. A mind-reader I may not be, but did I need to be in order to know what Ahtrai was thinking? To know of the hatred that she bore me? And yet... for reasons that I did not, could not, understand. Was it not by a mere accident that I had walked into her? Had I not already offered my contrition, false though it was? Whatever the reason, I felt rage burning within me at the mere idea of being disrespected thus.
How it was that my emotions and my fantasies now turned on a dime. No longer did I think in panic of being arrested for Zainab's murder. Now, as I gripped tightly the pen in my right hand, I envisioned myself ramming it into Ahtrai's throat. Hearing the unmistakeable sound of it ripping through her skin. How she would claw desperately at the weapon, trying to scream for help but no sound coming out. How her eyes would drain of life as she collapsed to the floor, never to bother me again. If only. If only. My life would be so much easier if I could have disposed of her now, nip this problem right in the bud.
Alas, this was not the perfect world I lived in, and soon I was to find out just what a thorn in my side Ahtrai would become. The hours whiled away, one into the other, and soon it was time for recess. We were informed of this via the bell that would grant us our freedom, if but only for thirty minutes. The instant that it did, we all stared expectantly at Mermon Yashfa, for it was by her leave that we would be dismissed, and indeed, she could be rather finicky about that. But today, she seemed to be in a good mood, for she beckoned us all to rise, and told us all to go and have our lunch.
"Be back here by the time the second bell rings, girls," she commanded, with an air that foretold just what would happen if we were in any way delayed. I nodded obediently, along with the other girls, then reached down to my satchel, and took out the plastic box that contained my lunch. Beside me stood Adia, a patient expression on her face. She was ready to go before I was, but it was with levity in my heart that I took note of how she waited for me. Such a good, devoted friend. I took her hand and beamed sweetly at her.
Together, we set off out into the playground. Once we got outside, I looked around to see if there might be anywhere that we could sit. Many of the benches were already occupied, with four of five girls to a bench, chatting to one another regarding some topic or another. Nowhere that Adia and I could sit, and I most certainly did not want to be anywhere near Ahtrai — who had managed to integrate herself into a group of dipshits who were hanging on her every word, as though the mere concept of a new student was entirely foreign to them.
I rolled my eyes. Adia tugged on my arm. "Saria, why don't we go sit over there?" she asked, and I turned my head where she was gesturing. There, a little way off from the rest of the playground, sat a bench that had not yet been claimed. It was just the perfect place for us to sit, and I gently commended Adia for having found it. With that, we made our way over to the bench, and sat down.
Adia took out her own lunch and began to dig in. We began chatting, light-hearted words shared between friends. Her spirit appeared to have returned to its usual delightful self, far different from the quiet manner in which she had behaved earlier. Was it because of me? Was it my presence that had brought about such joy? Me who had restored a sense of childlike wonder to the dear girl? I could only hope that this was the case.
"Guess what?" Adia said, bouncing on her seat. She had taken a bite of her sandwich as she did so, and her words came out garbled and twisted around the food in her cheeks. I turned away for a moment, trying not to show the disgust I felt. Ew. Must you talk with your mouth full, Adia? I silently berated her, though I figured it best not to chastise my friend to her face. All in due time. I would be patient when it came to Adia. None of her flaws were so terrible that I could not take it upon myself to stamp them out of her, in one way or another. But again, all in due time. I fixed a smile upon my lips and gestured for Adia to continue speaking, wondering just what my dear friend could possibly have on her mind.
She scratched her nose with one finger, then grinned impishly. "No, no, I'm not just gonna tell you, Saria," she laughed. "Uh-uh. You have to guess."
Well, I supposed I could oblige her wishes. I pretend to be deep in thought, tapping my lip with the index finger of one hand, my other hand drumming against my elbow. "Guess, you say?" I drew the words out, teasingly, looking pointedly at Adia. "Well, it must be something really good to make you smile like this, is that not so?" I wracked my brains, trying to come up with some reason that could cause such levity in Adia. I wondered if she might say a saccharine phrase about how overjoyed she was to be here with me. It would be much like her to do so. I hummed, drawing out the answer, all the while my sweet friend clasped her hands under her chin, her eyes glistening with excited apprehension. "Let me think... Let me think..."
But before I could come up with any such ideas, Adia's patience wore thin. "My daddy bought me a new jigsaw puzzle!" she burst out. Then her eyes widened, as she realized that she had just told me the news I was supposed to have been guessing. "Oh! Oops!" she giggled, covering her mouth with her hands. "Sorry, Saria! But I just couldn't go another minute without telling you. So... That's what I wanted you to guess. My daddy bought me a new puzzle. It's of a fairytale kingdom with fairies and unicorns and a magical princess in a tower. And—" Here, she leaned forward, as if about to divulge a huge secret, "— it's one thousand pieces!"
Not really the most exciting piece of news that one could give, but Adia seemed enthralled by the simple present that Javid had bought for her, and wasn't her innocent joy so infectious? I had long since lost the childlike wonder that came from receiving a special gift from a parent, if indeed I ever had it to begin with. But that didn't mean I couldn't share in Adia's delight, now, did it? That I couldn't listen to her description of the, admittedly, rather infantile puzzle, and imagine what it might feel like to have a father who bought me gifts and called me his 'princess' - for that, indeed, was what Javid supposedly called Adia, and treated me with respect, care and... Love
"You must come round and help me with it!" Adia exclaimed. Indeed, I had been waiting for that invite, remembering how delighted she had been the last time we completed such a puzzle together. Was she hoping it would become a bonding excerise of ours, as going on a Just Because was my way of doing so with my other half? That must have been the case, yet as I thought about whiling away a few hours at the Kalahari's, I couldn't help but to think about the argument I had borne witness to during my last visit. Of the fight between Javid and Faraya. Of Masood. Sickly, dying Masood. And it was this memory that brought about the realisation of the truth behind Javid's gift. The truth that Adia would never, ever see.
Oh, poor girl. Poor, dear girl, I thought, it's out of guilt that your father bought this for you. Out of shame that he cannot save your brother from his untimely death. That's all. That's why he spent this money on you. I know full well what a guilty conscience can drive a parent to do, can drive them to purchase. Sweet, innocent Adia jan. You know nothing of the real world, do you? No matter what you may think, no matter how much you may believe you know, dear one, you are truly naive.
But I couldn't say that to Adia. Couldn't take away her innocence. Couldn't snatch the rug out from under her feet. In no good conscience would I be able to hurt Adia like that. I had caused her enough harm, had I not? And so, I merely nodded and smiled at her. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Adia jan," I said, and, to be honest, part of me was looking forward to spending more time with her. More time that I could build her up, more time in which to make her the person I wanted her to be.
Adia grinned. "Maybe—" but whatever she was about to say died on her lips, as her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, and she mouthed a single word. One that made my stomach sink, and rage fill my every pore.
Ahtrai.
She had left her newly acquired Posse of Dipshits, and stalked her way over to us. For what reason, I do not know. Perhaps she was just the type of person who liked to cause trouble. For whatever reason, here she was, now, standing mere feet away from Adia and I. Great. Just great. This was not how I wanted to spend my break. I rolled my eyes, and mouthed a German swear word under my breath. Ahtrai stamped her foot upon the ground.
"Well, well, well..." she drew the word out. "What do we have here, hmm?" Adia opened her mouth to answer, to say something, anything, in the hopes I knew that she might make Ahtrai go away, but the brat had eyes for only one person. I could feel her gaze boring into mine, as if silently ordering me to turn around. Well, she would be waiting for some time then; I had no intention of engaging with this little bitch.
I turned and, pointedly ignoring her, picked up my sandwich and nibbled at the sides. As I did so, I smiled gently at Adia, reassuring her that all would indeed be well. She had gone pale at the sight of Ahtrai, such a timid little thing, and was attempting to inch away from the table, as if trying to make herself invisible. Poor girl. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, to let her know that nobody would dare lay hands upon her while I was around. But before I could make even another move, Ahtrai's patience ran out.
She reached forward, grabbed the sandwich from out of my hand, and hurled it to the ground. "HEY!" she raised her voice, making poor Adia jolt. "Hey, bitch, turn the fuck around and look at me!"
Rolling my eyes as I did so, wanting to let Ahtrai know just what I thought of her, I slowly — very slowly — turned to face this new enemy of mine. Sitting up tall (and what an irony that was!) I fixed Ahtrai with the most demure and polite smile I could muster. "Oh, Ahtrai, I did not notice you there," I said sarcastically, in a tone that made it abundantly clear that this was not, in fact, the case. "Tell me, can I help you with something?"
Ahtrai repeated my words in a high-pitched mockery of my voice. Then, she looked Adia and I up and down, turning her nose up at both of us as though we were little more than the dirt under her shoe. "Well, how about you tell me why you two friendless freaks are sitting here on your own? So far away from everyone else?" She gestured to the rest of the playground, where the other girls had congregated. It was clear as day that myself and Adia were in no way popular here, a fact that Ahtrai obviously found rather pitiable.
I arched a brow. "Friendless freaks?" I repeated. "That's a bold statement to make for someone who just arrived here, isn't it?"
We stared at each other for a long moment, sizing the other up. I was determined to let this bitch know that I would not be intimidated. If she had come to this school in the hopes of finding an easy target to bully, then she would be hard pressed to find it in either Saria Ahmed or Adia Kalahari. I had suffered through enough cruelty on this playground, I would not permit it ever to happen again.
Then Ahtrai laughed. It was an unpleasant sound, much like that made by nails scraping across a chalkboard. Not unlike her whiny voice. "I've already made friends!" she gloated, pointing to the aforementioned Posse of Dipshits. "See? People actually want to be around me. I can't say the same for you, Saria." The way she said my name was much in the same vein as one says the words "dog shit". "But then again, I'm not an idiotic little klutz who walks into people, now am I?"
By now, our fight, if one could call it that, had attracted the attention of the girls who had earlier clung on Ahtrai's every word, and soon they were all crowding around, looking from Ahtrai to me, as if wondering what would happen next. Perhaps hoping for something dramatic to break up the monotony of their day. But if that was what they were after, then I'm sorry, but they would not receive it from me. Much as I wanted to tear Ahtrai's hair out and bash her skull against the ground, there was too much at stake for me to risk getting into trouble here.
I gave Ahtrai another polite smile. "I apologised for that," I reminded her, loud enough so that the other girls could hear. "You and I both know that it was a mere accident." Looking her up and down, I pursed my lips and folded my arms across my chest. "Now, if you're looking to start a fight, then I'm sorry again, but you and your... Friends... Will be sorely disappointed."
Motioning with one hand, I gestured imperiously for the girls to leave. "Nothing to see here," I told them. "No more than useless complaints from someone who clearly has more time on her hands than the brains to use it wisely." Ah, yes. If I couldn't become physically violent with Ahtrai, then at least I could berate her with my words. And indeed, several of the idiots around us began to giggle immaturely at my statement.
Ahtrai's face burned hot with embarrassment. "You... you... you..." she spluttered, trying to formulate a coherent response.
I waited patiently. "Yes, Ahtrai? Something else you would like to say?" When she didn't speak again, I concluded that it was time to let this argument die. It had gone on longer than enough, and I wanted to get back to my conversation with Adia. "In that case, if you don't mind, I'd like to enjoy the rest of my break without further interruption."
Then, I looked pointedly at Ahtrai, daring her to speak again, to make a fool of herself once more, before making a big show of turning in my seat, and returning my attention back to Adia. "A silly interruption," I reassured her, for she looked petrified and was shrank back as if trying to make herself invisible. "Now, let's get back to happier things, shall we?" Reaching across the table, I tapped her hand gently. "What was it that you wanted to say?"
But again, Adia never got the chance to say what was on her mind. No sooner had I finished speaking, than I felt a hand grip the back of my pinafore, nails gripping the back of it. Before I could say or do anything, before I could even think to defend myself, I was being dragged backwards from off the seat and thrown unceremoniously to the ground.
I shrieked - and Adia let out an exclamation of "Saria!" - as I found myself tumbling down to my knees, my hands thrown out in front of me in the hopes of offering some tiny modicum, useless though it was, of protection. Tiny pinpricks of gravel dug into my skin, and I felt hot, warm blood run down my right leg. Ahtrai cackled, menacingly. One need not be a genius to know that it was she who had done this to me. Before I could move to rise, she drew her leg back and kicked me, hard, in the stomach.
A gasp of pain escaped my lips, and I curled into a ball, wrapping my arms around myself, as if to deter any other blows. Ahtrai kicked me again, digging the toe of her shoe into me until I was now lying helpless before her. Then, she lifted her foot and placed it upon my back, pinning me underneath her. Try as I might, I just could not gather the strength to push her off of me. Tears of humiliation burned in my eyes, as I heard the jeers and taunts of the girls surrounding us.
Adia leapt to her feet and tried to come to my defense, like the obedient and devoted friend she was. But she couldn't get even two feet in my direction, as about three or four girls stepped in front of her, blocking her from my path. She tried to push past them, but her efforts were in vain. "L-Leave her a-alone!" she demanded of Ahtrai, trying to sound intimidating, but failing miserably. Ahtrai merely laughed in response, and dug her heel once more into my back.
"She needs to learn some manners," she said loudly, gesturing to me. Then she pointed a menacing finger to Adia, who let out a gasp of terror. "As do you, and don't you worry, when I'm done with your friend here, I'll make sure you learn your proper place too."
It was with those words that I knew both myself and Adia were in for it. I could feel the burning rage coming off of Ahtrai in waves, knew that she wanted nothing more than to beat the living shit out of me, and to do the same to Adia when she was done. How helpless I felt, so weak and useless, truly pathetic. And oh, how I wished that someone might come to my aid, that there would be at least one person in that crowd who would stand against Ahtrai for my benefit.
Nobody made a move to help, however, and though Adia tried to fight her way through the girls holding her at bay, she could not get past them. Ahtrai drew her fist back, and I braced myself for the stinging blow that would soon be laid upon my flesh.
It never came.
I was surprised to see Ahtrai kneel beside me and offer her hand to help me up. What was this? Did she have a change of heart? A split personality that caused her to act in such a weird manner? She had been so ready to kick the shit out of me, for what reason now did she seek to render assistance? Yet I need not have wondered long about this, for soon a familiar voice sounded from across the playground, and it all became clear.
"Girls, the first bell just rang. Why have you not lined up to return to class?" Mermon Yashfa, that perpetual scowl on her face, was striding across the playground towards us. Had the bell rang? If so, then nobody here had paid it any mind, too engrossed were they in my impending beating. Alas, it seemed not that they would not receive the bloodshed they so yearned for.
They parted, then, heads lowered as they allowed Mermon Yashfa to see just what had gathered their attention. Ahtrai, kneeling with her hand outstretched and me, lying on the ground, dazed. "Saria fell," Ahtrai informed her, all sweetness and light and feigned concern. "We were all playing tag together and she just... Tripped." Her lips twitched then, unnoticeable to Mermon Yashfa, but indeed noticed by me. How funny it must have been for her to concoct this story that made me look like a ditz who tripped over her own two feet.
Ahtrai placed a hand on my shoulder, really selling this fake sympathy. "Here, Saria jan, let me help you up." Reluctantly, I took her hand, and she pulled me to my feet. Now I had a better view of just what damage had been done. My tights ripped at the knee, blood trickling down my leg, gravel embedded into the skin. Tears blurred and stung the corners of my eyes, both from pain and humiliation.
"Is this true, Saria?" Mermon Yashfa asked, "is that what happened?"
I nodded. Sniffed. Then spoke. "Yes, Mermon Yashfa, that's what happened. Ahtrai and I, we were playing tag and I was it. I was chasing her when I... when I stumbled over a piece of loose gravel and fell. It was an accident."
"Hm." Mermon Yashfa clicked her tongue. She placed a hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with a mixture of concern and frustration. "You need to watch where you're running, Saria, and that goes for all of you girls," she said, wasting no time to turn this into a lecture. We all nodded, I doing my best to appear shamefaced and contrite. Mermon Yashfa then turned her attention back to me, and her stern expression softened. "You will need to go to the nurse's office and get that knee looked at, Saria. You know where to go, I'm sure?"
I informed her that I did, and she moved away from me, focusing her attention on Ahtrai now. "Thank you for helping Saria," she commended her, "that was kind of you." Ahtrai seemed to bask in the praise, as she murmured words of thanks in response to the compliments. If only Mermon Yashfa knew what really happened. That 'kind' Ahtrai had been the one to cause me this pain.
Breaking free of the crowd, Adia hurried to my side. "May I go with Saria to the nurse?" she asked. "I mean... Just in case she needs my help. Please." She wrung her hands, clearly guilty for not being able to help me earlier. Mermon Yashfa agreed, telling Adia to return to class once she had delivered me safely to the nurse. With that, she turned on her heel, and bid the other girls to follow her back to class, which they did, for there was no more entertainment to be found here.
One girl did not follow immediately, though. Ahtrai caught hold of my wrist, before I could leave, and pulled me towards her, so that we were now nose-to-nose. "Good girl," she whispered, "you're clever to go along with my lie. Now, you both just make sure that we stick to the story, and we won't have any issues, will we?" Adia nodded in timid obedience, and, satisfied with this, Ahtrai turned her focus back to me. "You don't want to know what I'm capable of when people don't do as I tell them, Saria. You really don't. So, I'll ask you again, will we have any issues from today?"
"Believe me, Ahtrai, I have no intentions of letting anyone else know of what really happened here," I told her. Then, Adia wrapped her arm around my waist, and I leaned on her as together we made our way up to the school. There would be no more words spoken between Ahtrai and myself today.
With Adia's help, I managed to limp my way into the nurse's office, whereupon we once again had to relay the false story of how I had gained these injuries. The nurse, a plump and homely woman who's name I did not remember, clucked her tongue and bade me gently to sit upon a stretcher, as she began the process of cleaning and attending to my knee. Of wiping the gravel from off my hands and bandaging the offending injuries.
"You can go back to class, dear," she told Adia, patting her on the shoulder. "Your friend is in good hands, here, rest assured. Here." She handed her a note. "Give this to Mermon Yashfa, tell her that Saria jan will be a few minutes late." Adia took the note, and looked at me. I nodded, mouthing that it was okay for her to leave.
As she did so, the note gripped tightly in her hand, the nurse helped me to lay upon the stretcher. "You must have gotten a fright, poor dear," she soothed, as though talking to a much younger child, "so you just rest here for a moment. It's alright." She patted my arm. "It's alright."
I did as I was told, laying on my back, my eyes staring towards the ceiling. The nurse continued to bustle around me, but I paid her no heed. There was but one thing, one person, on my mind. I knew not why Ahtrai had chosen to take such great offence to my very person, nor just what reputation she had back in her old district. Whatever the case, she had made a grave mistake in targeting me, and I was determined to see justice meted out upon her, in one way or another.
Little did I know, however, as I calmed my boiling rage with thoughts of the gruesome vengeance that my brother and I could enact upon her, just how formidable an enemy Ahtrai would become.
Thank you so much for reading!! In the next chapter, Saria's enmity with Ahtrai becomes ever stronger, leading her to seek retribution against those who have dared to humiliate her, in the form of more bloodshed. Look for that, coming soon!! And please, feel free to drop by with any reviews that you may have, I would truly appreciate hearing from my readers, it means the world when people like my writing.
Sending you all lots of love and good vibes!!Thank you again!!
