The Search For Home

Chapter 4: Silently Everything Echoes

She couldn't hold the heartbreak any longer, and she fell to the floor in a disheveled heap as her grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears. Each tear ran, chasing the other, yet there was nothing she could do to stop them from taking her family away. What a catastrophe that was!

Their community people were all there to show their respect and support as they went ahead to bury her family. At that moment, Leah wished she were a boy; that way, she could have gone along with the men. Yet, even if she were a boy, how could she have helped carry her parents and sister? Women were not allowed to escort the deceased to their resting place, so Siddiqa had no idea from which part of the cemetery her family was put to rest. All she could think of as the crowd of men disappeared with her three loved ones was, why was she not there? She felt like she was outcasted by her family. Why did they die and leave her alone? What was she going to do alone?

That day had indeed shone brightly, like any other blessed day, where the birds chirped and flew from one tree to another in the mosque's surroundings. The loss of her parents did not stop the laughter or the chitchat of the people who visited the mosque that day. Leah realized that it was only her loss to deal with; the world wasn't going to stop because she was sad. After the burial, the people there went on about their lives with no care in the world. Most of them had taken pity on her. After all, she was only a teenage girl who lost her family.

All her life, she had never lived with anyone other than those three people. They were sacredly tied to each other by love, blood, and trust. Their bond was amazing! Now she looked everywhere, and they were gone. How she wished it was a very, very bad dream. And all she would need is someone to sprinkle some cold water on her, just like how her mama used to wake her and Noreen for Fajr Salah. Yet, that wasn't happening, and loneliness crept down to her bone marrow, sending an alarming shiver down her spine. Silently everything echoed; she was damn alone. Alone!

Her heart weighed up with the loss of her family, and helplessly she lay. She was at the mosque shelter for unfortunate people like her. It's a place for young orphans, and there are a few girls her age. But she's there because she can't seem to approach her home; she's too afraid of the emptiness that would welcome her. Mrs. Gaddafi had earlier urged her to come home with her, but she refused, saying she was not ready to go there again.

The image of her smoking home and her family being rushed out of it is still fresh in her memory. Her lungs are still filled with the suffocating smoke that ended her family's life. And that's her new life!

It's hard living each day and every night waiting for a miracle that will never descend from heaven. Though Siddiqa has waited. But those eight days went by too slowly, and up till that day, no miracle came. And everything aches badly; the wounds are still as fresh as that unfortunate afternoon. It seems to Leah that the healing process is certainly not going overnight. Maybe it will last a lifetime, that's if she did not die very soon, as she's assuming. Living at the shelter has its peak too and lessons to teach. She'd come to that place several times, but only in these days was she able to understand how the girls there lived every day. The kind of questions they must have in their heads, like why them? Why were they not wanted? Just like how she recently spent her time wondering why her. They're unfortunate too, but the girls are extremely supportive and have been very nice to her.

"Jaan, my chest is always so tired lately, as if a heavy rock is placed on it. What should I do?" Mrs. Gaddafi smiled knowingly. These past few days, she had been in and out of the shelter and would spend time with Leah. She would bring her food and clean clothes. Though Leah had told her the food there is nice too, and lately, she doesn't even have an appetite.

"Dear, I know it's hard, very hard. I have lost a loved one too," Mrs. Gaddafi said, stroking Leah's hand. She's looking pale and tired since sleep has long become an issue. She glanced into her companion's eyes as she remembered when she lost her first son to a plane crash in 2006. Mrs. Gaddafi didn't take that too well; Imtiaz was a nice young man, but death took him away, leaving him buried deep in their hearts.