Barakah

- Hunter's Brain

If they have one fan, I'm one of them? Guess who they are?

I'll just tell you guys, Adama & Ameenah. I'm afraid, I like them even more than Barakah. And my gears are building a plot for their books. So excited.

IMPORTANT: This chapter is intwined with the next one. So if you miss it, you might not understand the severity of the next chapter.

Happy reading :)

Also, I aced my exams! And turned a year older this month.

10/8/2022.

Ameenah

    

"Peace be upon you."  It was last of what she heard before the darkness put her away. Bound her to her subconscious.

The surface was far and beyond her reach. Only the memories for company. And even those felt true to herself, cold and alien.

She was made of it: Cold and chills.

Her soul. Her heart. Her mind. All chills and cold.

She could not think of a time when it wasn't who she was. Or a time when she did not love herself even more for what she was. For one, the pound of flesh in her chest was more passive. In a low-resting beat.

Hunter's brain. Frostbite heart.

Who wanted to feel anyways ?

Who has ever wanted pain?

Wanted grief ?

Wanted remorse or shame ?

Even love?

Who wanted to fall in love,

Only to gather themselves p̶i̶e̶c̶e̶ b̶y̶ p̶i̶e̶c̶e̶,

Once they hit the ground?

The hollowness did not sink her, it was freedom.

They wished they were like her. To have no limit. To be born grey. A melody of light and dark. To totally command her will.

It began when she was a child of eight by slaughtering one of her older twin sister's cat. Ameenah despised the furry thing. It left hair everywhere. Its cries tortured her hearing.

No one knew it was her. Well, no one except her father. He was after all, familiar with her kind. So when they had found the cat butchered outside her mother's garden the very next day, no one spoke about the odious thing. It was only her ill luck that her father had stumbled upon the dead thing.

Somehow, her father had the sense to go look for her and when he finally did with her mother by his side in the room she used to share with her sisters, his face was void of color. Drained of blood. And he saw—— No. He was trying to see her.

And despite her very young age, she laughed. She laughed her most real laugh in all her years of life then. She pulled her index finger between her lips and allowed herself to be who she truly was.

"Don't tell Bara'a I did it."

What had followed after that? A legion of psychiatrists and many visits abroad because her parents wanted her 'fixed'. Her mother especially. Whenever Ameenah thought about her past, her mother's cries always shadowed like the kiraman kitaban angels and the qareen jinn.