In the last chapter, Saria was forced to spend some time with her mother. She learned a few new tidbits of information about Tanya's childhood and strained relationship with her sister, Stella. Though it was meant as an attempt at bonding, Saria's disdain for her mother has only grown since then."
Now, a week has passed, and we find Saria about to return home from school. But little does she know of the surprise that her parents have planned for her - or what will await her as night falls.
I do not own anything connected to the Kite Runner. This chapter is based upon on from the novel, with my own extensions and additions put in, too. No profit is being made from this story - which is intended entirely as a work of fiction; and nothing is condoned by the writer.
Thank you to everyone who reads my work! It means a lot to me! I hope that you enjoy and please feel free to review and subscribe!
Without any further ado, let's dive right in!
Assef swung his backpack over his shoulder, unzipping the front pocket and fumbling inside for the house key. The school week had been a tedious one - I'd had to deal with Ahtrai's teasing constantly, and to make matters worse, Adia had been missing. Out sick, perhaps. Or... perhaps something more to do with Masood and his illness. Not that it mattered one bit to me; the selfish brat ought to consider the impact her absence was having on her best friend. I mean, come on! Who did she think she was, leaving me to the mercy of the wolves like that?
Whatever the case, none of that mattered now. It was finally the weekend, and I wouldn't have to contend with Ahtrai and her Posse of Disphits for the next few days. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I looked up at my darling, reaching to take his hand in mine as he retrieved the house key from his bag. Assef looked down at me, his eyes softening as he lifted my tiny hand and bent down to kiss the back of it, causing a tingle to form in my fingertips and run up the base of my spine. "How'd you feel about another Just Because this weekend, Liebchen?" he asked, his breath tickling my neck as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Been a while since we got to cause any real chaos 'round this town."
He was right. The last time that we'd gone on a Just Because was when we'd tormented Ahmad, and while I did enjoy the mental anguish we'd put the boy through, I craved the power that came from exerting true violence on an unsuspecting victim. Yearned to feel my darling's brass knuckles on my tiny hands, his fingers guiding mine as we struck down some pleading wretch the way that we did to Mojdeh all that time ago.
"Suppose we'd best go in there and face the music, Saria," Assef said, giving me a sympathetic look. Ah yes. Or rather- to face our parents. They would both be inside, waiting for their children to return from school. Though I may have wished that we could stay in this moment forever, I knew that if either Mahmood or Tanya were to catch us standing outside the front door, well, we'd never hear the end of it. Best to just get things over and done with, I thought, at least we'll have the weekend together to do as we please.
Assef pushed open the door. Hand in hand, both of us steeled ourselves, and stepped inside. We scarce had the chance to shut the front door when Mahmood's voice called out from the living room. "In here, both of you." Ah yes. He was as brusque and impolite as ever, our father. Not a please nor a thank you to be heard. Not like that mattered to him, now did it? Why did he need to be respectful when addressing his children? What were we to him, only mere subjects to be ordered about on a whim?
I squeezed my brother's hand in mine, offering and seeking comfort, before taking a breath and walked into the living room. There are our parents were, seated together on the couch - yet so far apart that they might not have been in the same room at all. Mahmood's arms were folded across his chest. Tanya had her legs crossed one over the other, looking at us both as if this was a business meeting and we'd shown up late. And yet... there was something different about this day. Her lips were twitching, as if she was about to smile. But for what reason, I have no clue.
Dipping into a curtsy, I lowered my head in that submissive way expected of me. Assef gave no such deference to our father, though he did offer a polite nod in his direction. They exchanged typical words; a small back and forth - Mahmood asking how school was and Assef grunting and muttering that it was fine. Like he'd have said anything to our father if it had not been anyway. Meanwhile, Tanya rose to her feet and began to circle me, while I held position, allowing her to inspect my uniform for any dirt or imperfections.
As she did so, I felt my knees begin to shake nervously beneath my navy uniform-skirt, the pleats appearing to tremble. At lunch today, I'd almost spilled orange juice down myself - an act of clumsiness that I still cursed my idiocy for - and had that happened, I'd have been subjected to an unforgiving punishment the likes of which would have left me unable to sit for the rest of the weekend. It was only through a miracle that I'd avoided such a fate.
"Rise, Saria."
Before I had the chance to obey, Tanya lifted me up from the curtsy, putting her hand on my arm and raised me up. She cupped my face between her hands, rubbing her thumbs along my cheeks and smiling sweetly down at me. Or- what she might have hoped was sweet- but to me rather looked like a shark grinning at its unsuspecting prey. "There's a good girl, Saria jan," she said. It was fortunate that the grip she had on me was so tight that I could not have turned my head to look at my brother - for we would not have been able to contain our laughter at that statement. And just what the hell was with the grinning that the bitch kept doing? What was the reason for it?
Well, I would soon get the answer to that question - though if I knew then what I know now, I'd have preferred to remain ignorant. That was not to be, alas, and it is with great displeasure that I must write what happened next. Tanya shot a coy grin at Mahmood, mouthing something that I could not understand, and in response, he nodded. Just what are the two of you pathetic fools grinning about? I thought, hating being made to wait for an answer.
"We have a surprise for you, sweetheart," Tanya said, in that voice that parents use when they're about to present their child with the puppy or kitten that they've been begging for. Not that I had any suspicion that a new pet of any kind would be the surprise for me - accidents in childhood had well put paid to that notion. Tanya took my hand in her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb. "We've just gotten off the phone with Ahtrai's parents - you know Ahtrai, that new girl in your class? Charming girl, she-"
My mother cut herself off then, switching the topic before any discussion about the Garden Party could be had. Yet she might well have been speaking in tongues for all I cared. My head was spinning, my ears ringing. They were fucking phoning up Ahtrai's parents now, were they? Having cosy little chats, was that it? And just what was the reason behind such a call? Why were they trying to make fast friends with the girl that was making my life a living hell?
"Ahtrai and her family are planning a trip to Jalabad tonight," Mahmood chimed in. Well that's great, I thought, though that has no real bearing on me, now does it? What does it matter where Ahtrai and her parents want to go? God, I hope the bitch's car fucking crashes and sends them all careening down a goddamn ravine where she and her parents all lie in agony, waiting for help that would never come, while the birds pecked out their eyes. "Them and some other family and friends. And Ahtrai's mother, delightful lady that she is, has been kind enough to invite you to come along with them."
I froze, my head pounding with the onslaught of the migraine that threatened to break through. My eyes darted towards Assef, whose mouth was pursed into a thin line, that expression of 'I have a lot to say but I can't say it' clear as day on on his face. This was turning into a nightmare, one that I was yet to wake from. But wake I would, of that I was certain, and then my darling and I could laugh about this as we made our way to the Just Because that we'd planned.
When waking did not occur, and I realised that I was, in fact, not dreaming, I figured the next best thing would be to politely refuse. This would be hard - I'd need to word it in such a way that didn't make me sound ungrateful. Did not raise any sort of suspicion. Wracking my brain, I figured that the best way to go about this was to pretend to be some innocent, sad little waif. I'd play up the idea that I was nervous to sleep away from home - maybe even throw the Kalahari's under the bus and bring up the point of that sleepover. It would be embarrassing - but if I needed to, I had no qualms about turning on the waterworks and making myself look even more pathetic.
"I-"
Before I had the chance to get a word out, Tanya jumped in again. "It's all been arranged. They'll be here to collect you within the hour, and you'll be travelling up with them. You'll spend the night in Jalabad and return the next afternoon." She was beaming, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that pathetic smirk off of her face. "There's going to be a few people there, so we've heard, a few kids your own age too- it'll be like a little party, doesn't that sound nice?"
It sounded like a fucking hole in the head, but I couldn't say that, now could I? So that was it, all arranged, without any consideration as to whether I wanted it or not. There was no way that I could refuse now, was there? I mean, sure I could play the 'scared' card but imagine the mockery, the cold stares, the reminders throughout the night that I'd failed to be the dutiful daughter they expected me to be. Not to mention the arguments and worse that might arise if my soulmate were to involve himself in any attempts to defend my honour.
No, it was best to just acqueise, submit to this crap, and hope that things wouldn't be as terrible as I envisioned. Biting back a cruel retort, I nodded once. "Thank you, Mother. Father. It was kind of you to organise this for me. I have no doubt that it'll be a most wonderful time." My eyes darted to the clock - something which Tanya was quick to take note of. "You'd better head upstairs and get ready, Saria," she ordered. "Get yourself changed and pack your overnight bag, alright? And be quick about it, we don't want you being late."
She pointed towards the stairs - as if I'd suffered a concussion and forgotten where my bedroom was. And what was this crap about getting ready now? Did I not have an hour before Ahtrai and her parents arrived to whisk me to hell? But then, there was nothing I wanted more than to get away from my parents before I ripped them both to shreds for doing this to me - so maybe being sent upstairs to pack was for the best. Offering another quick curtsy, I slipped out of the room, and up the stairs.
Assef knew well enough that I would need his comfort in this moment; brilliant soulmate that he was - and as I all but stormed into my bedroom, throwing myself down on the bed and covering my face with my hands, he was soon at my side. "Liebchen," he whispered, seating himself beside me and guiding me to sit in his lap. I all but flung my arms around his neck, wetting it with the tears of rage that spilled from my eyes and down my cheeks.
"It's not fair!" I cried out, my voice barely above a serpent's hiss so as to keep our parents from overhearing. "I already have to deal with Ahtrai in school, and that's fucking bad enough! She's been at me all day today, pinching and trying to get me in trouble in class, making her snide remarks on the playground... it's taking me every bit of patience to not lose my temper and not smash her fucking head in on the goddamn asphalt!"
My brother kept his arms wrapped tight around me. His hands rubbed soft, tender circles into my back, his lips soft as they pressed against my forehead. "I know, my love," he whispered, rocking me back and forth. "I know. It's not fair, not one bit. Fucking assholes shouldn't be making decisions behind your back without asking you about it first, now should they?" A small twitch of my lips at the way he was referring to our parents. That was the perfect way for him to refer to them, though right now I'd have called them much worse.
Tears continued to stream down my face as I clutched to my soulmate. "I... I want... I want..."
The words wouldn't come - but that was of no matter. Assef knew, without me speaking, what I wanted to say. He always knew, and I loved him for that. "I wanted to spend the weekend with you, too, Liebchen. Had such plans for us, all the things that we could have done. Could've even gone back to our place, but-"
He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. His eyes showed the rage that he clearly felt at having these plans tossed aside - through no fault of our own. "It is what it is, I suppose, and all we can do now is just... take it. But hey..." Assef cupped my face, tenderly wiping the tears that were pooling down my cheeks. "It's only for one night, Saria, that's all. Just one night. And besides, there's going to be other people there besides Ahtrai, right? I'm sure you can get away from her somehow. And if she tries anything, I mean if she even so much as touches a hair on that pretty head of yours, well..."
The threat went unspoken. I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, before making the difficult decision to get off my darling's lap. If it were up to me, I would have stayed in his embrace forever, but I knew I'd need to start getting ready. And besides, if Tanya were to come bursting in and find that I'd been crying, why, I'd never hear the end of it. Never.
Making my way to the closet, I flung open the doors - perhaps a bit more forcefully than was necessary - and pulled out my overnight bag. The same one that I'd used for that sleepover in Adia's. And this time, if anyone ends up falling down the stairs and needing medical attention, it won't be because of some illness, I thought, cheering myself up with the mental image of Ahtrai falling ass over teakettle down a flight of stairs, her bones snapping, her neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle as she lay there, forgotten by everyone around her. I imagined her suffering, how long it would take her to die, comforted myself with the fantasy that nobody, not even her own parents, would come to help her.
Gathering everything that I would need for the night, I placed it into my bag, and zipped it up, tossing the bag onto the bed where my brother sat. Once that was done, I pulled out one of my best dresses - Sunday best; as one might call it. It was a lavender, 50's style dress, with capped sleeves and a white collar. Grabbing a pair of lacy socks and my mary-jane pumps, I resigned myself to the fact that this was, in fact, happening. That I had no choice but to let things play out.
"So..." Assef raised a brow, getting up from the bed. "You, uh... you want me to leave while you get changed?" He approached me, touching my chin and making me look him in the eye. A breathy sigh escaped my lips as he rubbed his thumb gently across my cheek. "I mean... I could also turn around... if you want." He leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Promise I won't peak."
Scoffing, I playfully swatted him away. "Oh, behave!" I mock-scolded, pursing my lips to prevent from laughing. "And turn around, if you're going to stay!"
Assef raised his hands, taking a step back as he grinned down at me. "Your wish is my command," he replied, winking. He turned around, walking over to one of the shelves and picking up one of the books that rested on it. As he busied himself with flipping through the pages, I slipped out of my uniform, folding it up to be placed in the wash-basket so Hamilra could have it washed and pressed for the next school week. With that done, I changed into the other dress, reaching behind me to do up the bow at the back. I sat down on the bed, picking up the white lace socks and slipping them onto my feet.
"You can turn back now," I told my brother, who placed the book he was looking at on the shelf again, and turned to face me. I'd now gotten my shoes buckled up, and was running a comb through my hair, fixing it into two pigtails which I then secured with two pretty ribbons, making sure to look as precocious and lovely as possible. Leaning towards my vanity desk, I rolled my eyes as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "I look like a fucking porcelain doll," I grumbled, reaching to take my brother's outstretched hand.
My soulmate rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. Together, we made our way back down to the living room, where our parents sat waiting, like two store mannequins, not moving an inch. The moment that I walked into the room, Tanya was on her feet, beckoning me over to her. The second I got within arms reach, she grabbed at me, turning me left, then right, lifting my arms and letting them drop, tugging on my pigtails like they were fucking handlebars on a goddamn bike. I wanted nothing more to push her off of me, to swat her hands away like I was swatting a fly. The only thing preventing me, obviously, was the knowledge of the trouble that I'd be in if I did so.
After what felt like forever, Tanya moved away. "Perfect," she said, beaming. "You look lovely, Saria, a real little princess. That lilac dress always brings out your eyes. Doesn't it, darling?" But she wasn' speaking to me with that term of endearment. No. Instead, she'd turned now to face her husband, wanting him to join in this faux-parental praise.
Mahmood, however, looked like he could not have given less of a shit about my dress - or its ability to showcase the beauty of my eyes. "Yeah," he grunted. "Lovely. Really nice." He got to his feet, placing his hands on hips, near his belt - a means of intimidation. "Right, young lady," he pointed directly at me - as if I might have mistakenly thought that there was another 'young lady' in the room that he could have been speaking to. "You had best be on your very best behaviour tonight. If I hear a single word, even a whisper, that you have behaved out of order..."
He let that threat hang in the air, but we all knew what it meant. Assef, who sat beside me on the couch, reached over to take my hand in his own. He was shaking slightly, trying to keep his cool. Even just the idea of a future punishment to me was enough to make my brother's blood boil with rage. I leaned my head down against his fingers, brushing my lips softly against them, whispering, "I'm fine," in German - though far quieter than normal so that Tanya would not be able to hear.
Then I looked over at my father, lowering my gaze submissively. "I'll behave, Papa," I said, in my sweetest, most demure tone. "I promise you."
This must have satisfied Mahmood, to some degree, though he still had to get the last word in. "See to it that you do."
Those were the last words that any of us said for the rest of the hour. The tension could have been sliced through with a blunt butter knife. Sat beside my other half, I wanted nothing more than to rest my head on his shoulder, to feel his arms wrapped around my body and his lips pressing against my forehead. But I couldn't. If I were to do so, that might mess up my hair; and we could not have that, now could we? Oh no. Who knows what Ahtrai's parents would say if I were to answer the door to them with somewhat dishevelled hair.
As the hour approached, I dared to hope that perhaps Ahtrai would not be coming. That she would have forgotten me, whether by mistake or, perhaps, on purpose, it would not matter. I fantasised about what it might be like if her family never showed up, if my darling and I could go about our day, spending the weekend together without worry. And maybe if Ahtrai's family were to let us down, Mahmood and Tanya might think twice about their mission to force a friendship between Ahtrai and I. They might realise that it was, indeed, a fruitless endeavour. One could hope, after all.
One could not hope quite so much for dreams to become reality, unfortunately. Just as the hour drew to its close, Tanya all but leapt from her seat, dashing to the window and throwing the curtains aside, all but falling over herself in a haste to look out. "A noise, I heard a noise," she muttered, standing on tiptoe to stare down the driveway. "It sounds like- yes! Here they come!"
I wondered why she needed to say that. It was plainly obvious that they were here, was it not? None of us needed Tanya to speak aloud what our eyes could already see. She hurried across the room, rushing towards me like a predator about to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. Reaching out with hands like claws, she took my arm and pulled me from the sofa, all but shoving the rucksack onto my back, with such force that I worried she might dislocate my shoulder as she did so. She whirled me around, looking me up and down.
"Okay, let me look at you, Saria, let me see-"
Why do you need to inspect me again? I wondered, as Tanya ran her hands over me, poked, prodded, twisted, turned me this way and that. Did you not already do that but an hour ago? What could possibly have happened in such a short space of time that would make me look worse? And don't you think that grabbing me like this might have negative impacts? Stupid bitch!
Once Tanya had managed to remove the invisible dust from my skirts, she straightened back up, giving me enough room to slip into my black pea-coat and sling my rucksack over my shoulder. Just in time, too, for it was then that the knock came upon the door. It was loud, three sharp raps on the wood, a small pause, followed by another three, sharp raps. Any louder and they'll smash their fist through the fucking door! I thought, already getting rather peturbed by this. Decent people, I believed, did not go about punching someone's front door like it was their rival in a boxing match.
Because opening a door was a family event in the Ahmed household, the four of us had to go over there. It was Mahmood who opened the door, unlatching and pulling it open to reveal Ahtrai and her parents on the other side. Ahtrai wore a light purple t-shirt and pair of blue jeans, with scuffed sneakers. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at the sight of her. Stupid bitch, not even making the slightest effort to look nice. Couldn't she have made even the tiniest bit of effort? Here I was, dressed to the nines, and this cunt wouldn't even put a clean pair of shoes?
Well, Ahtrai's inappropriate footwear aside, both our parents exchanged the usual pleasantries, before Ahtrai's father, Taimur, extended his hand to shake Mahmood's, for the second time in all of two minutes. A typical business handshake, I thought, disguising a scoff. Taimur reached down to touch my shoulder. His grip was firm, his nails digging into my coat and through to the dress and skin beneath. Assef caught my grimace and his fist clenched for a split second, before his fingers loosened and he reached a hand up to scratch at his elbow.
"We'll have this little lady back by lunchtime tomorrow," Taimur said, grinning down at me. "And all in one piece, of course." He laughed, then, though the joke was only funny to those who held no sense of humour. Case in point, Ahtrai, who sniggered behind her hand at her father's words. No doubt imagining what it would be like to see me torn limb from limb.
Mahmood placed a hand on my head, and stroked my hair, as if he thought that was the way to treat your daughter, or at least, how to act in present company. "You have fun, sweetheart." Sweetheart. Was it just me, or did he seem almost disdainful at calling me such a pet name? As if "scumbag" or the like was more in-line with what he thought of me. That, and worse things. "But not too much fun, eh? Don't you get caught up to any mischief."
Oh good, so murdering Ahtrai and strangling her parents with her rotting entrails is still on the table, so long as I don't get caught doing it. Good to know.
My brother stepped forward, then, knelt so that we were on a level. He took my hand in his own, and I reminisced that it would be many, many hours before I got to feel his touch, to hear his voice again. The thought depressed me, in truth, so I pushed it from my mind and focused on committing my darling's face to memory. Assef reached up to brush a stray lock of golden hair behind my ear, causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach.
"It'll be a long night with you, my love," he said, his voice soft and tender. "Only my thoughts of your return shall satiate me." He leaned forward, lifting my hand in his own, and brushed his mouth across my fingertips. His kiss was gentle, his eyes shining, as if there was nobody else in the world but me. "Well..." A coy smirk formed on my other half's face. "That, and the anticipation that you'll tell me everything that transpired on your little adventure, yes?"
Though the words were directed to me, my brother looked at Ahtrai as he spoke, a cursory glant his way, eyes narrowing as he took her in. An idiot would have been able to discern the threat behind his words, but given the amount of brain cells that Ahtrai had, I wondered if she would catch his drift. Well- that was of no matter to me, now was it? As I swore to regale my brother with everything that happened today, I knew that I would tell him every sordid thing that Ahtrai said or did. And if he decided after that to take matters into his own hands, well, who would I be to blame him?
Once the goodbyes were spoken, there was nothing for it. Resigned now to my fate, I straightened the straps on my rucksack and followed Ahtrai and her parents down the driveway. As we walked, Ahtrai kept giving me snide glares behind her parents' backs. The boldness of the girl was unbelievable, truly. No way in hell would I have had the gumption to act this way in front of Mahmood and Tanya. Must be nice to be able to act out in whatever manner you wished, fearing no repercussions.
Ahtrai's mother, Ramineh, turned to smile at me as we approached the family car. "Have you ever been to Jalalabad before, Saria jan?" she asked. It was a valiant effort to make conversation, I won't deny that, but she'd sought out the wrong girl if she thought for one second I was going to be all buddy-buddy with her. I wanted as much to do with this vapid whore of a woman as I wanted to do with her vapid whore of a daughter. Which is to say, nothing at all.
Yet, I knew I would have to play the game here. Would have to smile and nod and be the pretty little darling that I was expected to me. "No, ma'am," I responded. No fucking way was I about to call her or her fool of a husband "khala" or "khaka" like they might want me to. Would that seem a bit disrespectful in the culture we lived in? Possibly. But who cares? I'd be as polite as I needed to be, without over ingratiating myself to these people.
"Oh." Ramineh didn't seem to know how to respond to that. "Well, it's a very lovely place. We've been there quite a few times. Ahtrai loves it, don't you, dear?"
Ahtrai turned to smile at her mother, and I wondered if Ramineh could see just how fake and disingenuous her daughter truly was. Did she feel shame to look upon the foul creature that had wormed its way out of her body? Oh, how I wished it wouldn't have come across as rude or disrespectful to ask such a thing. Would that I could make my thoughts become words. I wanted to see the look on Ahtrai's face when I asked her parents how ashamed they were of her.
We reached the family's car, and Taimur reached to pull a set of keys from his pocket. He stuck them into the driver door, twisted. The door opened, and he reached inside to open the passenger and back doors, too.
"How long does it take to get to Jalalabad?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
It was Taimur who answered, though he didn't look in my direction. Rude. But there was nothing I could do about that, aside from roll my eyes when nobody was looking. "About three hours, there or thereabouts."
Three hours?! Three fucking hours, sitting in the back seat of a car with Ahtrai for company? Three hours of being poked and prodded at while her parents weren't looking? Three hours of making small talk with these people while wishing that I could be anywhere else. That wasn't even counting that I'd be spending the rest of the day and night with them, too. Goddamn it! I would never forgive my parents for doing this to me.
"Well, that depends on when the others arrive, and if the trucks are there," Taimur said, as the four of us got into the car. That, again, caught my attention, but before I could ask what he meant, Taimur had the good graces to clarify his meaning. "I don't know how much your parents told you about what's happening tonight, Saria, but it won't just be the four of us heading to Jalalabad. There's actually going to be quite a few people going. We're driving to meet up with the vans. We'll drop the car off and travel with everyone else."
Oh.
So there would be more people here? Others that I could cleave to, more that I could manipulate in the hopes that they would keep me safe from Ahtrai's bullying, and more importantly, stop me from reacting to said bullying? But then again, who would these people be? It was just as likely that these would be friends of Ahtrai's - yet more of her Posse of Dipshits that I would have to deal with. The thought of spending the day with Ahtrai was bad enough, but spending it with friends of hers? How the fuck was I supposed to cope with that?
You're overthinking, I chastised myself, as Taimur got the car going and we reversed out of the driveway, away from my home. Away from my brother. Away from safety. It's not going to be a fun night, no, but it shan't be as bad as you're making it out to be. It's only for a night. That's all. One night. You can survive one night. You've faced demons stronger than this, have you not?
The journey to the parking lot where the remaining vans would pick us up took about twenty minutes, give or take. Not a lot was said during that time, I'll tell you the truth. Ramineh and Taimur attemped to make conversation; asking me about school, what my favourite subjects were, the usual boring topics that adults thought children wanted to talk about. I answered politely, only giving the information that I felt necessary. Ahtrai didn't speak, instead staring out the window. I could see her reflection in the window, her face twisted into a scowl. Every so often, she would roll her eyes, scoffing behind her hand every time that I spoke.
By the time the car drove to a halt, I'd gone through at least ten different scenarios where I'd grabbed Ahtrai by the back of the head, tangled my fingers in her rat's nest of hair, and bashed her skull against the window pane. I imagined smashing it so hard that blood and brain ( of what little there was ) would spill out of her. Then I thought about how good it would feel to choke the life out of her parents. How fun it would be to run their car off the road - crash it into a ditch somewhere. Watch them bleed to death before I, the lone survivor, managed to escape from the wreckage and make my triumphant journey home.
Alas, that could not be the case, and so I pushed such fantasies to the back of my mind as the four of us exited the car and made our way to where three large vans stood waiting for us. At least two dozen people stood mingling around the vans, men, women and children - all chatting amongst each other. I clutched the straps of my rucksack, diligently following behind Taimur and Ramineh as they led us over towards one of the vans. As we reached them, my eyes grew wide at the sight of the person stood there. Of all the people I was expecting to see today, this was not one of them!
And yet, there he was, stood nervously leaning against one of the vans, chewing his lower lip and looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Amir.
He was with his father. Jansher was in the midst of an animated conversation with a young, dark-haired man with a beard that might well have housed several endangered species of bird. Two women stood with the bearded man - one a rather ugly, old crone with a pinched face like she had just smelled something unpleasant, and the other, a pretty, younger specimen who shifted from foot-to-foot like she'd been overcome with a sudden and random urge to dance, for whatever reason. Not that any of these people mattered to me - no, not one bit. I had eyes only for Amir. Seeing him in this moment had reignited a bit of the spark that I'd felt for him. Perhaps, I thought, tonight would be a good opportunitity for the two of us to get to know one another. An opportunity to cement my place in his mind; my place in his heart would follow soon after.
Jansher clapped Taimur on the back, grinned. "So glad you could make it!" He had a booming voice that seemed to echo for miles, and a smile that split across his face. When he laughed - for no reason, mind you, it wasn't as if anyone had said anything funny - the sound echoed like the roll of thunder. Clearly the type of person who liked to hear his own voice, wanted to make his presence known.
I hated him already. Which, of course, didn't bode well for the fact that I wanted to marry his son. Not that I'd ever let something like an irritating future father-in-law prevent me from my goals. If Jansher bothered me too much, well... I could deal with him when the time came, couldn't I?
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Taimur grinned, then motioned to his family. "You know my wife, Ramineh, our daughter Ahtrai, of course." They each offered words of greeting, handshakes. I was in the midst of attempting to figure out how, exactly, these people knew each other, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Taimur. He pushed me forward, smiling down at me, as if in reassurance. "And this lovely young lady here is Saria Ahmed. Mahmood and Tanya's daughter. A friend to our Ahtrai."
Friend is one way to define our relationship, I thought, sketching a deep and dainty curtsy. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kaka Jansher," I said sweetly. He took my hand and shook it. A nice, firm handshake, though a little too hard on my delicate little fingers. Another strike against him.
Jansher motioned to his son, who was leaning against the truck, hands in his jacket pockets, looking nervously down at the ground. "This is my son, Amir." Amir looked up, waved once, then went right back to nervous-ground-stand. Odd. Did he not want to be here? Was his father forcing him to come? Whatever the case, Jansher pursed his mouth, a disappointed expression on his face. Before he could scold his son for rudeness, however, the man that he'd been talking to decided that now was the perfect opportunity to insert himself - and the two women with him - into the conversation.
He introduced himself as Homayoun and the two women as Parigul and Kinaaz. His wives. I'll admit - that took me aback. Polygamous marriages weren't uncommon in Kabul and I knew that men existed that took more than one wife - yet it still left an odd taste in my mouth. I couldn't imagine for a second that Tanya would be all too pleased if Mahmood brought a new woman into our home. I knew for a fact that I would not tolerate my husband taking a second bride, a fact I would need to impart on Amir in the future. Saria Adelah Ahmed does not share, not with anybody.
More than enough time for Amir jan to learn that, I reassured myself. Kinaaz, the younger and prettier of the wives, stepped forward and placed her hand against my cheek. "What a pretty little dear," she cooed, smiling down at her. "My twins will be so happy to have someone their own age to play with." She gestured towards two girls who were chasing each other round the trucks. They looked to be about seven-years-old, a fact that made my blood boil. Not as much as the fact that, upon having heard this false comparison to my own age, Ahtrai had begun snickering behind her hand. She mouthed something that I couldn't quite make out - though there was no doubt that the comment was snide, patronising.
Some madness overtook me then - and I spoke out in a way that I never would have had the courage to, had my parents been around. Standing to my fullest height, I looked Kinaaz straight in the face, and corrected her. "Oh, I'm twelve, actually." The words were sweetly spoken, no harshness or disrespect in my tone - yet stern enough that the she would know that she had been in error.
"Twelve?!" Kinaaz did not try to hide the shock in her voice. She looked me up and down, once, then twice. Her eyes darted towards her own children - the girls were maybe only two or three inches shorter than me, give or take - then she scanned me a third time. It was plain to anyone with half a braincell that she wanted to correct me on this, to inform that I must be mistaken about my own fucking age. But there were other people watching, and behind her, Parigul's own beady eyes were narrowed into slits. Kinaaz must have realised that she wasn't getting anywhere with this, for she just smiled and said, in the most patronising voice I'd heard in a long time, "Oohh... well... isn't that just darling? Almost a teenager, hm?"
Yes, that's what being twelve means, thank you for the mathematics lesson, I wanted to retort. Fortunately for me, I was spared any more state-the-obvious comments that would have lead to me losing my temper and snapping - an act that would undoubtedly have lead to harsh consequences when word got back to my parents - divine intervention stepped up in the form of one Jansher Quadiri.
He clapped his hands together. "Right, well, let's all get going, shall we? We've got a long drive ahead of us!"
We piled into the trucks, and the journey to Jalalabad began. I sat beside Ahtrai, who spent most of the journey whispering snide comments in my ear. Everyone else was chattering loudly over one another, laulghing and shrieking - which tended to be the manner in which most group-conversations went. And the volume of the other voices, indeed, permitted Ahtrai the opportunity to mutter crude jokes at my expense - to poke and prod at my back, or tug at strands of my hair in her grubby fingers and tease me about how 'dry' it was, or how there was a stink about me. All lies, I knew, but lies that stung all the same.
In attempt to distract myself, I took to stealing soft glances at my Amir. He sat across from me, sandwhiched in between the twins. The girls - seven-year-olds with less maturity than toddlers - kept reaching across him to slap at each other. Every so often, one would land a particularly hard blow, and the other would cry out in pain and whine. This served to earn the offending party a sharp glare from her mother - but that did little to dissuade them. One of the twins was more harsh with her slaps than the other. Fazila, I thought, though in truth they were both identical and I neither knew nor cared which was Fazila and which was her sister, Karima. Thus in these writings shall I name them thusly: Fazila, with the irritating laugh, and Karima, the nervous one with the lisp.
Some time into our journey, I noticed that Amir had turned pale. He turned to Fazila, who was laying a barrage of smacks on her sister's arm, and asked her to let him swap seats - so that he could be closer to the van window. She said no, stuck her tongue out at him haughtily, then proceeded to laugh, as if she fancied herself the greatest fucking comedian known to man. Amir sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Suit yourself," he said, "but don't blame me when I throw up all over that dress of yours."
A feeling of pity overwashed me then. Car sickness was a unpleasant feeling - I had suffered a terrible bout of it when I was younger and my family had made a trip to my aunt Stella in Pakistan. My dearest Amir, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch his hand, to offer a friendly smile, to let him know that all would be well. It pained me to see the way his face twisted in suffering, the way that he was bent double, his head resting against his knees. How I longed to take him in my embrace, to wipe the sweat from his brow and whisper gentle reassurances in his ear, telling him that all would be well.
Up in the driver's seat, Jansher Quadiri appeared not to have any knowledge of his son's issue. He'd begun to talk about the kite tournament. The one that Amir had won. The one that- No. I would not think of that. That 'event' was of no matter, not to me, not to anyone here. Who else but me knew of it, after all? Pushing away all memory of what I had seen my brother do, I smiled and nodded along with the others as Jansher prattled on and on. At one point, he tried to get his son's attention, but Amir was too lost in his own world to hear him.
Fazila poked him in the side. Hard. Far, far harder than necessary, in my opinion.
"What?" Amir groaned. He looked so peaked, poor thing. I clicked my tongue sympathetically. Fazila pointed towards the driver's seat, as if to indicate to Amir that his father had spoken to him.
"I was just telling everyone about the tournament." If Jansher was annoyed that his son had not been listening to him, he did not show it. Mahmood would have taken the belt to me twice over for such a display of disrespect in front of the public. But Jansher merely continued on, as if his son's rudeness mattered not. Hm. Perhaps a point in his favour, then. In the future, I may well have a father-in-law who didn't bother if I drifted into my own mind now and then.
Amir made a soft 'mhm' noise, nodding. Homayoun and his two wives smiled towards him, and I noticed how Amir's face cringed, as if embarrassed by this visual praise.
"There must have been about a hundred kites in the sky that day," Jansher said. "Is that about right, Amir?"
It took a few seconds before Amir could respond. "I guess so," he mumbled, looking down at the van floor, clearly not wanting this conversation to go any further. Why, I wondered. Why does he not want his accomplishment to be shared with the world? Why did he have no desire to shout his achievements from the rooftops? It's not like one could mistake it for bragging, for it was his father that had brought the topic up. All that Amir had to do was smile, nod, and bask in the delight of the praise that he was receiveing. Why did he not wish to do this? What was the matter with him?
"A hundred kites, Homayoun jan!" Jansher's booming voice echoed once more, laughter escaping his lips. "No laaf! And the only one still flying at the end of the day was Amir's. He has the last kite at home, a beautiful blue kite."
And I should have been the one to give it to him! I thought bitterly. It was my right! Mine!
We bounced over another pothole and the van lurched again. I gripped the leather interior, so tight that my knuckles turned white, to prevent me from tumbling off the seat and onto the floor. Amir, on the other hand, looked positively green. Jansher kept up the same pace, appearing not to have noticed that his son and future daughter-in-law were having issues in the back seat.
It seemed Jansher wasn't done talking about the kite tournament, though. "Hassan and Amir ran the last kite together," he said, pride evident in his voice. I felt my blood boil at the mention of Hassan. His was a name that I tried to avoid thinking - understandable, I would think, given the circumstances. I most especially did not wish to entertain the falsehood of Amir and Hassan running the kite together. My Amir would not be tainted by that pathetic freak for much longer, I would make damn sure of it!
Whilst I tried to soothe my rage over the thought of Hassan - entertaining some pleasing mental images of boiling him alive in a vat of hot oil - the rest of the van began cheering and applauding Amir for his tournament win. They reached across the van, patted his shoulder, cheered, whooped, told him how proud they all were. Houmayoun was the loudest, whooping and hollering like he had front row seats to a goddamn football game. I glanced at Amir, smiled sweetly.
"Congratulations, Amir jan," I said, keeping my tone neutral and friendly. "You must feel so proud." As I said this, my eyes were drawn to a man sitting opposite Amir. The man was silent, having not said a word since this journey started. In fact, the only reason that I knew his name was Rahim Khan was because Jansher had spoken to him a few minutes earlier. Other than that, he might well have been a van decoration - for all the worth he brought to being here.
I waited for Amir to speak, to thank me for my compliment, but he didn't. That might have boiled my blood in other circumstances, but as I kept a watchful eye on my future husband, it became clear that he was in no position to talk to anyone. His face turned ghostly pale, his body twisting as he doubled over, arms across his middle, groaning.
"Please..." The word was long and drawn out, as if speaking in and of itself was a difficulty. "Please, pull over, Baba."
"What?"
Amir leaned his head against the seat, pressing his body against Fazila, who had no room to wriggle away. "Getting sick."
The moment that he said this, it was like all hell broke loose. Fazila threw up her hand, trying to knock Amir away from her. Terror filled her eyes, and she began to wail. "Please pull over, Kaka!" she shrieked, failing with her other hand to begin frantically tapping at the van headboard, to get Jansher's attention. "His face is yellow! I don't want him throwing up on my new dress!"
Jansher made a valiant attempt to pull the van to the side of the road, but it was too late. Amir let out a low, gargling groan, throwing his hands up over his mouth in an attempt to prevent the inevitable. It was no use. Within seconds, Amir was puking his guts out, chunks of vomit spewing across the van. We'd had to pull over to the side of the road, clear out so that the upholstery could be aired. Fazila had received the worst of it. Her dress - that she had been so concerned about - was now ruined. She was flailing on the roadside, jumping up and down, her hands all around as she tried to wipe the vomit from off of her front. Tears streamed down her face, as she sobbed. "My dress! My dress! It's ruined!"
I'd like to ruin your fucking face, you dumb bitch, I thought, as Kinaaz pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began to wipe at the chunks of Amir's lunch that had spilled all over her daughter's skirts. Karima seemed to think that her twin's misery was a great source of delight for herself, for she kept laughing and mocking her sister, pointing at her and holding her nose with thumb and forefinger, making sick-noises and teasing her about the smell. This only served to bring Fazila into more fits of pique, and she had all but thrown herself into her mother's arms, wailing about how "mean" her sister was being.
I tried to imagine what Tanya might do if I threw my arms about her whilst covered in vomit. That was not a pleasant thought, and I quickly pushed it to the back of my mind. Houmayoun attempted to bring some calm back to his unruly children - telling Fazila that he would buy her a new dress when we reached Jalabad, and was now strictly reprimading Karima for her behaviour. Not wanting to stick around to witness that, if only for the way it made my stomach clench, I moved away from them and looked about for somewhere else to stand.
Ahtrai and her parents stood together. I would not go to them, no. I'd dealt with those pieces of excrement enough - and there would no doubt be more crap to deal with later. Instead, my heart and its compassion were lead to Amir, who stood alone, arms still wrapped around his middle, swaying slightly. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face tilted towards the afternoon sun. He looked pained, as if something still bothered him.
"Are you alright, Amir jan?" I asked, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder. He flinched away as if I'd slapped him, took a step back.
"Oh... uh... Saria..." He scratched the base of his neck, almost stuttered over my name, as if it were a curse word and repeating it three times might transform me into some flesh eating demon that would rip him apart. He took a step back. "Uhm... uh... uh... I... yeah, I'm fine. Just... Just a little car sickness."
That had been far, far from a "little car sickness" but perhaps it was best not to push the matter. He was probably embarrassed, and wanted to save face by not seeming weak in front of his peer. I couldn't hold such a thing against him, of course. Would I not be doing the same, had the roles been reversed? It was of no consequence, I told myself, Amir's rejection right now meant nothing. The poor boy was ashamed of himself for what happened, and so he needed space. Hence, space I would give him. I patted his shoulder again, smiled sweetly to indicate that I held no judgement against him, then meandered away.
He'll feel better soon, I told myself, as I began kicking pebbles along the road. The van was clean now - finally - and we all began piling back inside, the journey beginning again. We'll reach Jalalabad soon, and then Amir and I can spend some real time together.
After an uneventfui second half of the journey, we finally pulled up to the two-storey house that we would be staying for the night. It belonged to Houmayoun - and he appeared to preen with self-confidence as his guests all stared up at the large building. "Make yourselves at home, please!" Houmayoun said, clapping Jansher on the shoulder as he descended from the driver's seat of the van.
One by one, we all trekked inside the house. The women and girls made our way upstairs to put down our overnight bags in the bedrooms that we'd be sharing. We'd sleep upstairs while the men and boys were relegated to the downstairs living room. As we trekked in single file up the stairs, Ahtrai, who was behind me, decided to take it upon herself to poke and prod at my back, her fingers digging into me as she giggled mockingly. I tried to step out of the way - but that was impossible, given that I couldn't move without knocking into those ahead of me.
Parigul gestured with her wart-covered hand to the bedroom on the far right of the corridor. "Saria, Ahtrai, you'll be sleeping down there," she said. "Go and put your bags away. There's two mattresses made up for you both." She placed her hand on my back - why on Earth people seemed to enjoy prodding me today I had no idea - and gave me a little shove forward as if to bade me courage on the journey. Resisting the urge to throw my eyes to heaven, I slipped down the corridor towards the room, not caring whether or not Ahtrai was following.
I threw open the door, scanning the small bedroom with the two mattresses on the flloor. Stepping inside, I had only just removed the bag from my shoulder when Ahtrai's bag whizzed past me, almost knocking me off my feet, and landed on the large mattress. "I'll be taking that one!" the dumb whore said, grinning like the Chesire Cat, hands on her hips. But God, she was psimathetic.
"They're both just mattresses, Ahtrai jan," I retorted, dropping my own bag on the smaller one. "I'm sure they're both just as comfortable to sleep on." Whether that held true or not, I did not know. Yet there was no point in arguing, or letting Ahtrai see that she was bothering me. I turned on my heel, exited the room, and made my way down the stairs before she had the chance to follow after me.
I slipped out into the back garden, ignoring the noise surrounding me. The women and some of their daughters were starting to prepare dinner - but there was no fucking way I was planning to throw on an apron and play the dutiful little housewife. No, there was far more important things on my mind today.
As I glanced around the garden, I was struck by how beautiful it was. It was large, walled - not unlike the one we had at home - with hedges that seemed to reach the skyline. There were several trees at the end of the garden, near to the wall - apple and persimmon. As I descended the balcony steps and walked through the grass, my eyes were drawn to the large, empty swimming pool with the pretty, emerald covered tiles. Or, should I say, drawn to the person who now sat at the edge of the pool, legs dangling, staring blankly ahead.
Alone at last, I thought, my heart skipping a beat. Now here's my chance! Okay, Saria, don't mess this up. You can do this. He's had more than enough time to get over the embarrassment of throwing up all over the van, and he's got no excuse not to talk to you now. So get on over there and start making that boy yours!
"Salaam, Amir jan." I sat beside him, not too close as to intrude upon his personal space, but close enough that he would take notice. Amir kept staring into the empty pool, not even glancing in my direction. Indignation coursed through me at this disrespect. Oh no. That most certainly would not do. I would not allow him to sit there and just ignore my presence, would not pretend that I was not even there. Clenching my fists, reminding myself that it would not be good optics if I were to grab Amir's neck and force his head to turn my way, I went instead for a less violent option. I would keep trying, keep talking. In that endeavour, I hoped, I would find success.
I picked up a small, loose pebble beside me and tossed it into the pool. It sailed downwards for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, before landing with a heavy clunk at the bottom. Amir's only reaction was to flinch a little at the sound that it made, but it was a reaction all the same. Glancing over at him, I smiled. Resisted the urge to place my hand on his leg. "Always seem so much deeper when they're empty, don't they?" I asked.
Amir shrugged, biting his lip. "Guess so." He leaned over the edge of the pool, staring down into it, as if trying to gauge for himself if the pool was truly as deep as I'd implied it to be. "They have it cleaned every winter," he added. "Kaka Houmayoun hires someone to do that. And the hedges... they hire someone in the summer time to cut them so they look like animals." It might well have been the longest conversation that I'd ever had with the boy - and I was eager to keep it going.
"We do that do, back home," I said. "Clean the pool out at winter, I mean, not cut our hedges into animal shapes." I smiled, moved an inch closer, though not too much that Amir might feel that his personal space had been invaded. "I've always wondered what it'd be like if we left the water there during the colder months. Whether or not it would freeze." Leaning back on my elbows, I looked up at the sky, felt the cool air beat down upon me. "Could turn the pool into an ice-rink, then. Have you ever been ice-skating, Amir jan?"
He shook his head, shrugged. It thus fell to me to keep the conversation going. God, this was like pulling blood from a fucking stone, wasn't it? Why wouldn't he at least try to engage with me? At least try to be fucking polite! This had better not fucking be the rest of our lives together, I thought, chucking another handful of pebbles into the pool. Thank God I'll at least have my soulmate for intriguing conversation.
"Me neither," I confessed, drawing my knees to my chest, my arms wrapped over my legs, eyes staring straight ahead. "There used to be a skating rink before, wasn't there? Though I don't think anyone ever really went there. I know I didn't."
I turned to face Amir, offering him my most charming smile. "Personally, I find watching the kite tournament every year to be all the entertainment that I need."
That's it, I praised myself. Compliment him, Saria. Charm him. Let him know that you see him, you hear him. That you care about his interests and about his passions. That you see and cheer for his successes. He'll like that, he has to. And then... then he'll come to love you.
"Hm." Amir's mouth twitched. God, I wanted nothing more than to slap him across the face, to reach down into his throat, pull out his vocal chords and keep them in a fucking jar until he learned the proper way to use the damn things. He was lucky that I had feelings for him, because otherwise, I would not have been so patient with his bullshit.
"You flew brilliantly," I complimented him, reaching out to put a hand on Amir's shoulder. "Assef and I watched together. You must have been so thrilled to have won!"
Amir tightened the second that I mentioned my brother's name. I felt his body all but seize up, and he moved away from me, pushing himself to his feet and taking a step backwards. That was odd. But I chalked it up to the previous run-ins that he'd had with Assef - in truth, I might not want to hear mention of someone who bullied me, either. In time, I would convice my soulmate to... well, maybe not like... but at least tolerate Amir enough to note pick on him anymore.
I opened my mouth again, ready to find another change of subject, something else to keep this conversation flowing. Before I even had a chance to get a word out, however, another voice rang out across the garden. A voice who's bearer I held nothing but the greatest contempt for.
"There you are, Saria!" Ahtrai was striding across the garden towards me, the most sickeningly sweet grin on her ugly face. I was on my feet in an instant, backing away from the pool. I wouldn't have put it past her to 'accidentally' knock me in there, or for my temper to get the best of me during whatever bullshit she was going to spew and end up shoving her in. And as much as watching Ahtrai snap her neck at the bottom of an empty pool did appeal to me, the repercussions that would follow after were not something I'd be willing to face.
Ahtrai was grinning like the Chesire-Cat as she approached, a spring in her step that I really did not need to see. Any bit of happiness on her face was one that I really did not care for. It felt wrong, and it made me tense up, worried for what kind of nonsense she might be planning. I did not need her talking crap around Amir - not now when I was getting somewhere with him. Ahtrai looped her arm through my elbow, as if we were the best of friends, and neither one of us wanted to bludgen the other with an axe. "Didn't feel like coming to help us with dinner, hmm?"
"Lucky for you that I didn't." I disentangled myself from her, throwing out a self-barb in the hope that it would take some sting from what was clearly Ahtrai's attempt to mock me for not sticking behind to help the other women and girls with preparing tonight's meal. Shrugging, I reached to tuck a stray lock of blonde hair behind my ear, ignoring the snide grins that Ahtrai kept throwing my way. "I prefer it out here, anyway. Better company."
To this, I smiled at Amir, who was backing slightly towards the house, wringing his hands nervously. It would have been almost... sweet... in other circumstances. To see this shy, bookish boy being so nervous and stuttering in the place of a pretty girl. Me, obviously. Sounded like something in a cheesy romance novel, didn't it? Our moment. And perhaps it might have been, were it not for Ahtrai being there and ruining everything.
"Beautiful, yes." She addressed Amir now, extending her hand out for him to shake. "I'm Ahtrai, by the way. A school-friend of Saria's here." Hearing Ahtrai refer to herself as my friend, in any context, was enough to make me want to gag. Amir returned her handshake, introduced himself in a voice that was scant above a nervous whisper. Did he see what a monster Ahtrai was, behind the friendly facade that she was trying to put across? "Have you been to Jalalabad before, Amir jan?"
Something about the use of that nickname, that term of endearment, from Ahtrai to Amir, rubbed me up the wrong way. What right did she have to talk to him like that? To refer to him in such an intimate manner, as if there was anything that could ever happen. Well... she could fucking think again. Finder's keepers, as it said. Amir was mine, and this little bitch could just sit and weep about it.
Amir scratched the back of his head. "Uhm... yeah. Uh-huh. My relatives own this place."
"How lovely." The sarcasm in Ahtrai's voice was biting, and I couldn't help the sympathy that bubbled up within at how she was treating my poor Amir. Though perhaps that sympathy might have been better suited to direct towards myself, for it wasn't long before Ahtrai turned her focus back to me. "Hopefully there aren't any alligator lizards around here, for Saria's sake."
Oh, no. No, no, no. Please no. Please don't let her talk about that. Why did she still want to bring it up? Was it not enough that she had borne witness to my humiliation and was taking every opportunity she could to make light of the worst moment in my life? Did she have to bring it up now, when I'd been having a relatively good time? Now, when Amir and I were finally making some sort of progress in our budding relationship? Why must she be so damn cruel? What had I ever done to warrant such treatment?!
"I..." Amir glanced between Ahtrai and I, scratching the back of his neck. "A-Aligator lizards?" he asked, furrowing his brow as he took another step back, then stopped, as if worried that to do so may come across as rude and disrespectful. In any other time, I might have commended his manners but now? There was far, far too much on my mind for that to even consider making its way to the forefront. All I could do was glare daggers at Ahtrai in the hopes that she might take my stern look for the threat that it was and not risk her life by retelling the same story.
Oh, but if only! For my attempts to stop her only served to make Ahtrai more eager to humiliate me. "Ah!" She slapped a hand on her forehead. "Of course, how could I forget? You weren't there for that, now were you? And I don't think Saria told you what happened, did you?" She grinned at me.
I shook my head, too enraged by what was to come to speak another word. Well... another word that wasn't the urge to scream at Ahtrai to fuck off and leave me alone. "You really need to learn to laugh at yourself, Sari."
In truth, I don't know what pissed me off more - the stupid nickname or the fact that I was going to have this humiliating story told once more, and this time in front of someone that I admired. Yet there was nothing I could do to stop it, and so I just had to stand there as Ahtrai regaled Amir with the tale of the alligator lizard - making sure to do so in a way that made me look as terrible as possible. She made sure to reiterate just how small the lizard was, how helpless the creature had been. "Barely the size of your pinky finger," she told Amir, holding up said finger for emphasis. I wanted to correct that narrative, to tell Amir that no, in fact, the lizard was substansially larger than that - but what good would it do?
"You should have heard it, Amir jan!" Ahtrai grinned, looking back at me with an expression that I wanted nothing more than to punch off her hideous face. "Poor, poor Saria!" She sing-songed my name then, like nails on a chalk board. "Crying and sreaming for her big brother to come and save her!" She placed the back of her hand on her forehead, swooning as if she were about to faint. Adjusting the pitch of her voice, she began to mockingly cry out, "oh, Assef help me! Please help me, big brother! I need you, oh please!"
Ahtrai laughed, that stupid hyena laugh that made me wish I could drag her into the desert and leave her for real hyenas to rip the flesh from her bones. "Do you often need your big brother to come riding to your rescue?" I hated that smirk on her face, the way that she was looking at me. The snide manner in which she made light of the love that my soulmate and I shared. And, try as I might, it was impossible for me to keep quiet in that moment.
I slapped her hand away, revelling in the pained gasp she let out as I did so. "You'll shut your fucking mouth about my brother if you know what's good for you!" I snarled through gritted teeth.
"Oh, hush up, little Saria. Calm yourself. I've not said anything against your brother." She smirked, then, tugging on a few loose strands of my hair. "But you're a good little girl for sticking up for him, aren't you? Such a good, obedient sister." There was something in the way that she said 'sister' that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Ahtrai patted me on the cheek, the patronising way that an adult or older person might do to a much, much younger child. "I'm sure you'll be... richly rewarded, for it."
There was something about the way that she said those words that made my body tense up. That sly smile on her face, the coy way she licked her lips when she spoke, the pause as she drew out every syllable. It all spoke volumes to there being an underlying meaning behind her words. A meaning that, though I could not yet but put my finger on i made my blood boil and every instinct within me cry out to wrap my skinny finger around Ahtrai's throat and dig my nails in until she bled and her skin turned blue. How dare she? How fucking dare she speak that way about my brother? How dare she make light of us, of our relationship? What the fuck did she know about real love? About the true bond that only siblings could share?
She's just jealous, I told myself, fists clenched behind my back. That's all it is. She's jealous because she'll never know the love that Assef and I share. She's jealous because she's nohing but a fat, ugly, stupid bitch and she's going to die alone and unloved. She's going to-
But my thoughts of the gruesome fate that I hoped awaited Ahtrai some day were interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. Ramineh stood on the steps, hands on her hips. "There you are!" She descended the steps, walking with purpose towards us. "I've been looking for you three. Dinner's ready, come on inside."
One by one, Ahtrai, Amir, and I made our way inside. Not a word was spoken between us now, as we entered the living room where dinner would be served. Part of me wanted to reach out to Amir, to apologise for putting him in the middle of... whatever nonsense that Ahtrai had just put us both through... but every time I tried to get close enough to whisper to him, he moved away from me. He was trembling, fumbling with his fingers, almost robotic. He moved to sit on the floor, cross-legged, beside his father. I thought about seating myself beside him - anything to fix whatever mess that Ahtrai had made - but before I got the chance, someone tugged on my arm, halting me in my tracks.
Looking down, I saw that it was Fazila. She and her sister looked up at me, pleading for me to sit beside them. In other circumstances, I mgiht well have told those little brats to fuck right off, but given that there were several adults watching us, doing so would not be an option. Therefore, I had to grit my teeth, smile, and take my place between the twins, who both grinned at me as I did so.
Well, at least this means I won't have to worry about Ahtrai teasing me, I thought, watching her move to sit beside her mother and father. Dinner was plated up in front of us. Bowls of rice, kofta and chicken qurma. People began to dig in, eating with their hands from common platters, tearing apart pieces of chicken and dipping them into the rice. Soon, the whole room was abuzz with chatter and laughter, everyone shouting over each other to be heard. Jansher - who appeared to be more than a little tipsy, again took it upon himself to go on and on about the kite tournament. It was all he seemed able to talk about - how Amir had outlasted everyone, how skilled he was, how he'd managed to bring home the last kite.
I opened my mouth to once again offer words of congratulations to Amir, but before I had even the chance to think about what I was going to say, I was interrupted by Karima tugging on my hair. Gritting my teeth, I reminded myself that slamming a chlld's head into the dinner table would not be the best of ideas, and instead guided the little brat's hand away from me, casting a subtle look of admonishment that I hoped the adults in the room would not pick up on. Though if they didn't, nor, in fact, did she.
"Your hair is so pretty, Saria," Karima said. Her lisp made her pronouce my name as "Saweah" which wasn't even remotely accurate, but I'd come across a right bully if I were to correct her on that, and so I brushed it off. "It's all shiny like gold!"
Her twin was quick to agree. "Like princess hair!" Fazila giggled. Noticing that their mother was watchng us, I figured that now would be the best opportunity to charm these people. If these brats wanted to poke and prod at me, well then, why not use that to my advantage? Why not make these people love me? You never know when their assistance might be needed in future. And this would only serve as a good report to send back to Mahmood and Tanya, after all.
I took Fazila's hand in my own and squeezed. "Thank you very much, sweetheart," I complimented the girl. "I love your hair, too. Both of you." Of course, I had to include her sister in those words, too, and so I reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Karima's ear. "You're the real princesses here," I told the twins.
This seemed to delight them both, if the bright, vibrant grins they both gave me then were anything to go by. Despite my evergrowing urge to inflict grevious bodily harm upon these little brats, I instead resigned myself to spending the rest of dinner acting as some sort of surrogate big sister to them, listening and feigning interest as they talked about school and toys and Karima's front tooth that had fallen out and how a new one was growing in and how important it was that she always brushed it morning and night to keep it clean and-
Honestly, it was more than a relief, hours later, when dinner had ended and we'd all retired to bed. At least now I wouldn't have to deal with the twins - not until the morning, anyway. They'd been given strict instructions not to leave their assigned bedroom during the night, making me wonder if night-time wandering was an issue for them at home. Whatever the case, though, it was of no matter to me.
The women and girls all made our way up the stairs to our respective bedrooms. Having to spend the night with Ahtrai was something that I could have done without, but... what choice did I have? All I could do was hope and pray that she would sleep through the night and not bother me.
Having gotten changed into my nightclothes in the bathroom - I would not give Ahtrai the satisfaction of teasing me for any other reason - I slipped into tbe bedroom. Ahtrai was lying on her own mattress, running a brush through her dark hair. The thought of yanking the brush away and smacking her over and over until the floorboards ran red with her blood filled my head, and I hid a smirk as I climbed into bed.
"I hope you don't snore, Saria." Ahtrai's nose crinkled in disgust as she looked at me. "Don't think I won't pinch you awake if you do." She held her hands up like witch's claws, jabbing them at me.
I pushed myself away from her, fixing her glare with one of my own. "There won't be any snoring," I said. "Not on my end, at least." Turning on my side, away from her, I pulled the blankets up over my head and closed my eyes. For what felt like an eternity, I could feel Ahtrai staring at me, perhaps willing me to get up and turn off the light. I heard her grumble and swear under her breath, before she swung out of bed and stomped over to the lightswitch, flicking it off.
Goddamn little spoiled brat, I thought, rolling my eyes. Is this the same way she acts at home? Bitch is really crying out for a fucking session with the belt, a good solid whipping would sort her out. If I'd ever acted this way, I'd not be able to sit down for a week when my parents got wind of it. But what's the betting that her mom and dad won't do jackshit if I were to tell them how their daughter behaved.
Closing my eyes, I tried to settle down and get some rest. I knew that I'd need my energy for the return trip tomorrow, most definitely if I'd have to deal with those annoying twins again. And for about an hour or so, I did manage it, until I woke with an awful scratch in my throat. The longer I tried to ignore it, the more it bubbled within, overwhelming me with the urge to cough. I gulped, hoping that would stave things off - but it didn't. The itching in my throat only got worse and worse, coupled with my racing thoughts, until there was no other option but for me to get out of bed and go downstairs to fetch a glass of water. If I didn't, I was liable to have a coughing fit and Ahtrai would not let me hear the end of it if she woke up because of it.
I rose from the mattress, tiptoeing across the floor, making sure not to make any noise as I slipped out the door and down the hall. With any luck, I would be able to get to the kitchen and back without anyone noticing that I had gone. The last thing that I wanted was for some nosy idiot to poke their head out and ask the foolish question of what I was doing.
Step by step, I began the walk down the stairs. One foot after the other, my heart thudding in my chest. All going well so far... until about six steps down, when a loud creak jolted me out of my thoughts and caused me to freeze up. Shit! Shit! Please don't let anyone else have heard that!
Someone moved downstairs. My whole body tensed up, and I dropped down to my knees, trembling hands gripping the bannister as I looked through the gaps and onto the livign room below. Someone on one of the downstairs mattresses was moving. The tickle in my throat got worse, and I had to clamp my hands over my mouth to stop myself from coughing as I watched the person sit up. As the moonlight hit his face, causing it to glow in the faded light, I realised that it was Amir.
He glanced about the room, eyes darting every which way like a frightened rabbit waiting for a fox to snatch it from its nest. For a second, I wondered if he might turn to look up at me, but he didn't, turning instead to look at the sleeping form of his father.
For what felt like an eternity, Amir just sat there, staring at his father's rising and falling chest, like he wanted nothing more than to call out and wake him up. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. Then again, a further two times, as if the words were stuck in his mouth and would not come to him. I waited, with baited breath, for him to unstick them and speak his truth.
And when he finally did, the words that came in that moonlit silence caused my entire world to freeze.
"I watched Hassan get raped."
Thank you all for reading! In the next chapter, Saria deals with the fallout of what she heard, and tries to find away to discern more information from Amir without being too conspicious. She must also battle her own inner demons about what she witnessed that day, along with the knowledge that she cannot share this important new update with her brother.
I know that chapters are slow in coming, but I wanted to let all readers know that I have been thinking about how to combat this, and am planning to work on a writing schedule to help me. With any luck, there won't be any more six month waits between chapters.
That said, thank you all to those who read and I hope you enjoy this chapter! My best to you all!