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Prologue:
Dark Night
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"This
Seher, where did she go to?" Sanam muttered to herself, searching for her
errant sister and cousin. "Mommy said that we were leaving soon, and she
told her to stay in the living room. Not only did she not listen, but she took
Haya with her! Daddy is going to be mad."
Sanam
wandered to the back door and peeked into the backyard, hoping to see the two
without leaving the safety of the house, but there was no sign of the two young
girls. Reluctantly, she exited the house and whispered into the dark night,
"Seher! Haya! Come back. Mom and dad are busy talking with Imran Uncle.
But they'll be mad if they find out you're gone," she stopped, realizing
there was no one there to hear her. Where were they? "Allah miya, why am I even calling out to Haya?" she muttered
to herself. "She just had her operation. Her ears are all covered. She can't
hear me yet."
Going
out into the backyard, she began to look for her cousin and sister. It was a
big backyard. Her eyes roamed across the verandah, looking behind the
furniture. The two girls weren't there.
As Sanam moved down the steps and onto the grass, she could immediately
see that the two weren't anywhere near the house.
"Seher!
Get your butt back here. We have to leave for home soon!" Her eyes moved
towards the ivy covered walls and bushes at the darker end of the yard. She
trembled slightly when she realized that she might have to go there to look for
the missing duo. "You know how mommy always talks about you wandering off
when we were two," she called out in a shaky voice. "It took a whole day to
find you! If you do that again, they're going to be really mad." There was
no answer. The need to protect her younger twin overriding her fear, she forced
herself towards that darker corner.
Reaching
the end of the yard, she stumbled across a hidden pipe, left unrolled in the
tall grass. Falling, she reached out to catch herself, her hand glancing off
the ivy-covered wall instead. "Ouch," she murmured, getting up
gingerly. She cradled her injured hand close to her side, gazing at it
carefully. There was a deep scratch on it; another thing to blame on the
missing Seher. Moving over on her knees, she settled against the wall and took
a moment to catch her breath.
Staring
around the dark backyard, she realized that it wasn't as scary as she had
thought it would be. There was the chirp of crickets. She wasn't like Seher,
freaking out about such small things. She almost found the sounds soothing.
Tilting her head back, she stared up at the night sky, awed by the many stars.
It was only when her family came up here to spend time with Imran Uncle and
Haya that she got a chance to see these stars. You could only see these stars
away from the city lights.
There
was a rustling, and Sanam froze, wondering what that noise was. Whatever it
was, it sounded much bigger than a cricket. She relaxed, realizing that the
noise was coming from the other side of the wall. While there was an opening,
there was also a gate; nothing big would be able to get through and hurt her.
Looking
up, she gazed at the stars once more, wanting to enjoy them as she never had
before. She had never had the chance to see them in such darkness. In her seven
years on this earth, her overprotective parents had never allowed her to be out
alone at night. But now . . . she felt as if she had been given a gift. And she
meant to enjoy it fully until her mother called for her.
She
heard a soft sound from the other side of the wall. Sanam froze, her ears
straining to hear that sound once more. It had sounded like . . . she heard
another sound. And she was sure this time. Moving over towards the gate, she
pressed her ear against the cold metal. Her body flinched as she heard the
sound again . . . it was a sob. Someone was crying.
"Are
you okay?" she called out softly, her heart hurting at the pain in those
breaths. So much pain, and she just wanted to make it better.
There
was a frozen silence, as the person on the other end realized that they weren't
alone. And then a quick rustling . . .
"Please
don't go!" Sanam blurted out, wanting to halt the rushed retreat.
"Please."
There
was a cessation of movement on the other side of the wall.
"I
can't see anything," she confided. "I can't see you. Don't go, just
because I'm here. I'm leaving soon." There was no answer, and Sanam's
heart fell at that silence. She didn't want the person to go. They were crying.
They were hurt! And they had come out here to hide in the dark, and she had
ruined it.
There
was a quiet rustling, and she realized with relief that the person on the other
side was settling back into place. Maybe they were leaning against the wall,
the way she had been. Maybe they were looking up at the sky and realizing . . .
that it was only out here, in the dark, that you could see all of those lights
up in the sky. Sighing quietly, she moved back, deciding to leave them to their
moment of peace.
"What's
your name, kid?" the voice asked from the other side of the wall, male and
stronger than she had expected it to be. Hadn't he been crying a moment ago?
Sanam
froze and then realized he was talking to her. "I'm not a kid!" she
hotly protested, running back to the gate. Her fingers gripped the cold metal,
and she pressed her forehead against it, hoping to catch a glimpse of the figure
on the other side. All she could see were jean clad legs, tapering off into
boots.
"Really?"
he asked, his tone softly teasing. "How old are you?"
"I'm
seven years old," she shot back. "My name is Sanam," she
revealed, after a moment of quiet thought. "I'm not supposed to talk to
strangers. Mommy said so. But I think it's okay, because you can't really hurt
me from the other side of the gate, can you?"
"Probably
not," he replied.
"And?"
Sanam prompted impatiently.
"And
what?" he replied.
"What's
your name?" she demanded. "I told you my name. You have to be fair!"
"My
name . . . what are you going to do with my name?" he asked in a musing
tone.
"You
have to be polite," Sanam insisted. "I told you my name because you
asked. You can't just be rude and not tell me your name. Daddy says the . . . thezeeb is very important.
Don't you know that?"
"Do
you even know what tehzeeb means,
Sanam?" he asked softly.
"It
means . . . it means you have to tell me your name!" Sanam retorted, her
face bright red in frustration.
"It's
ARI," he finally said.
"Air?"
Sanam asked in confusion.
. . . "You must not be very good at spelling," he finally muttered.
He took a deep breath, gasping slightly.
"How
did you know that?" Sanam asked in a shocked tone. "Mommy says it's a
phase, but daddy says I just have to work hard at it. Is your name really
Air?" she asked, focusing on the more important thing now.
"My
initials are A . . . R . . . I," he said, "My name isn't Air."
"Then
. . . what's your name?" Sanam asked in disgruntlement. "What's the
mystery? Who gives their initials when someone asks for the name?"
"It's
Aahil," he muttered reluctantly. "Happy?"
"Hmph,"
she muttered. "Wait . . ."
"What?"
he asked, a curious tension in his tone.
Not
that Sanam took any notice of that tension. Her young mind was focused on more important
things. "I have initials too, you know. As many as you!" she said in
a so there' tone.
"I
don't think so," he replied. The voice was much livelier now, as if having
forgotten what had brought him out to this corner of his garden.
"My
name is Sanam Ahmed Khan," she said. "S.A.K. Ha!"
He
snorted softly, highly entertained by the sprite that had allowed him to forget
for now.
"I'm going to have to tell my daddy I beat someone today," he could hear her
murmuring to herself. "He's going to be so proud."
"You
tell your daddy everything?" he asked curiously, his mood turning dark as he
thought about his own father. There was a soft rustling, as he tried to get
more comfortable against the wall.
"Of
course," Sanam said, surprise in her tone.
"You
must love him very much, since you want to share all of your wins with him," he
observed.
She
nodded her head, forgetting that he couldn't see her. "Of course," she
repeated. "Who doesn't love their daddy? And he loves me, too. Like all daddies
loves their kids. Even if they're not too good at spelling."
There
was silence from the other side of the wall.
"Are
you still there?" she asked in a high voice, even though she could see the legs
and boots. "What happened?"
"Not
all parents . . . ," he finally said quietly. "Not all parents love their
children. Not all children can love those parents." He took a breath, a sound
almost like another sob. Sitting here in the dark, away from any prying eyes,
even those of the sprite he was talking to, allowed him to be free with his
pain.
"How
is that possible?" she asked, the confusion clear in her tone. "All parents
love their kids."
"How
can there be love . . . if parents hurt their children?" he burst, almost as if
unable to keep that truth in. There was clear anger in his voice now. "How can
a kid trust his parents, or even love them, if they beat him up . . . lock him
up . . . starve him?" His voice trailed off, the bleakness evident once more.
Sanam
rested her forehead against the gate, unsure of what to say next. How was that possible?' she silently
wondered to herself. How?' Her mind
could come up with no answer. "How?" she asked out loud.
"Don't
worry your little head about it, kid," he stated. "I was just joking."
"What?"
Sanam yelped in a raised tone. "That was mean! How can you say lies like that?
Like any parent would hurt their kids! Hmph!"
"I
have to go now," he said abruptly, knowing that if he said anything more it
would only taint this innocent girl's mind. He didn't want his words affecting
her.
"Do
you have to go?" Sanam asked plaintively. "Can't you just sit there and talk to
me?" she asked, wanting to keep him out of that house some more. For some reason she
wanted to so much.
Saying
nothing, he got up and staggered slightly, leaning a hand against the gate for
support. His hand came to rest over hers. He was standing right in front of
her, close enough to touch, but she couldn't see him. There was no light, only
darkness between them.
Sanam
gasped. "You're hurt." She paused for a moment, her mind ponderously connecting
the dots. "You weren't lying?" she asked in a small voice. "You weren't lying,"
she repeated. She watched him move away, walking with a limp and that same hand
now held to his side.
She
gazed at her hand, not that she could see anything in the dark. Taking a deep
breath, she forced the words out. "You're hurt. Someone hurt you . . . Aahil!"
she called out. "I'm sorry!"
The
figure stopped for a moment, now 10 yards away. Standing frozen for a moment,
the boy seemed to shake himself free and began to move away.
"I'm
sorry!" she called out again. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She continued to yell
until he was gone from sight. Slumping against the gate, her body so cold that
she couldn't feel anything anymore, she thought about the world as she knew it.
The world she knew now had parents that would hurt their children.
"Sanam
Ahmed Khan! Get your butt back here!"
Sanam
perked up when she heard her mother's voice calling from the backdoor.
"Where
were you, young lady?" Zoya asked her errant daughter, as the young girl ran up
the steps. "I expected you to be where I sat you down. Imagine my surprise when
I saw your sister sitting in the living room, while you were nowhere to be
seen."
Sanam
hurtled into her mother's arms, almost toppling her with the force of that hug.
She clutched at her mother, unable to speak.
"What's
wrong?" Zoya asked in surprise.
Her
heart was aching for that boy. 'Allah miya, why does it hurt so much?' Shaking her head, Sanam buried her face in her
mother's stomach, trying to close out the things she had learned today.
"Honey?" Zoya asked in a concerned tone. "Why
do you have blood on your hand? Are you hurt somewhere?"
.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Sanam
began to sob.
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Chapter 1: Air
A/N: Here's the prologue. Let me know what you all thought of it!
Edited by darkice7_12 - 8 years ago
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