Choking Buds

4- Finally- What?

The following Fajr, Marwa dropped still onto the bed after praying. Her sleep had been restless; she did not have nightmares (thanks to her reading Ayat-ul-Kursi) but some part of her was disturbed. Added to that was a pang of loneliness inside.

Though there were so many people around her, and Elowen was nothing less than a sister, she often longed for something more. Once she had had an outburst in her room after seeing happy families at a festival, crying about how it wasn't fair that her family had died leaving her. Elowen had told her off, calling her ungrateful.

Wolves. Wolves had come at their carriage late at night, and it seemed that the horses had run in panic off the path, slipping by the rocks down the slope. The carriage had been found in ruins; she and her twin were the only ones found breathing. It was a miracle, they had said. The coachman and her parents had lost their lives, but they had been found in the arms of their mother- injured, but alive. Their mother must have cushioned them against the impact.

But only one of them survived the injuries.

She was brought to the orphanage by a lady from the village on the other side of the mountain, where her parents were from.

When she got up and made to wash her face, Deepu and the other kids covered their mouths and followed her. Marwa blinked at their impish smiles and shook her head. What were the children upto now? Her head was too muddled to give them any thought. She washed by the well and gazed into a still puddle, expecting to see dark circles today. When she saw her reflection, she shrieked.

Her face was covered in something green and repulsive. She heard a chorus of giggles behind her; they were all pointing at her face.

"Didi has bird poo on her face!" They sang.

Marwa rushed to splash her face with water, scrubbing and scrubbing until she felt clean- except yuck, she still felt disgusted.

"Who did this?" She asked incredulously. Of course, all fingers pointed at Deepu.

"Deepu! You naughty girl, wait till I-"

Deepu snickered and ran inside. She turned to see Elowen biting down her smile.

"You're in this too?" She cried. Some best friend she had!

"It's just paint, Mar."

At that she sighed in relief. It must be the paints Deepu got yesterday- oh, that girl. She shook her head; of all the things she could do with it, she had to use it for a prank like this. Of course.

After breakfast, Lalitha—the tea planter's wife, came to visit. Marwa remembered the letter and bounced in anticipation, but the woman kept chattering about the city and the pomp of the rich. Finally, she brought out a rolled up piece of parchment and handed it to Marwa. "Tell me what it is, child—you know how to read."

Marwa's heart fluttered as she untied the twine around it. Though she tried to ignore it, some tiny part of her hoped- and only hoped, that perhaps her mother was alive somewhere. Even if she knew it was impossible, she wished that her family had been separated from her by anything, any barrier but death.

She leaned into Elowen as she rolled it open. Her eyes searched for the name. First she found the address, and her heart stopped when she saw the name.

There was a small gasp beside her.

Abdul Mannan.

"He's alive?" Elowen whispered. Marwa was an ice carving, eyes fixed on the name, breath stopped.

Moments passed before she defrosted and scanned the lines slowly.

The handwriting was simple and neat, the parchment slightly damp.

Dear sister,

I hope that you are alive and are truly the one reading this letter. I am Abdul Mannan, your own brother; I have been told that my sister by the name Marwa Ibraheem resides somewhere by the Greengiri Mountains. She was last seen by my aunt at the Pigeonville orphanage, where to I send this letter. Yet would she is elsewhere, I urge you to reach her and let her know of me. For we have been separated for more than fifteen years, and I hope with all that is within me that we will be united.

Dearest Marwa, send me a reply by any means, and I shall arrive to you by the Grace of Allah.

Yours very truly,

Abdul Mannan.

She pinched herself. Was she hallucinating?

She could not recognise the writing, of course—but the name belonged to her twin.

She had an aunt?

She looked up from the letter and stared ahead. How could you think and hope for something, and find it before you even though it was impossible a moment ago? 

He was dead. She had believed it all her life. They were dead. She had been told about them, and where their graves were.

The lady was curious and made Elowen read the letter out to her.

"Oh good God!" She cupped her mouth in shock. "How is this to be? The child is alive!"

Marwa got up and went to her room, loosely gripping the letter. She read it ten times or more; each time the words refused to sink in. She brought out a chain and a pair of earrings from her cupboard. Silver and gold; she had been wearing these when she was brought to the orphanage.

How was it possible that he was alive? She looked at the address again. It was in a different kingdom. She bit her lip nervously. What if—what if he wasn't, and it was someone else?

She remembered the strange things from the night before. Was something lurking?