Definitions :
Gedo = Grandfather
Nana= Grandmother
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Fayoum-Egypt
1st of June, 2012
If only I had known then what I do now, perhaps I would have never helped them. Besides, they're not the only ones with a story to tell.
My name is Sahar Farid El Helaly.
I was only twelve before my mother died.
I have no recollection of how it all happened since they've been telling me for years that they'd explain everything at the right moment, but it never happened. But here's all that I can recall:
The day started with being awoken by the sound of local marchands yelling the name of their goods in an attempt to win the favor of the elderly women in our area.
With the light of dawn seeping into my room, I grumpily got out of bed and climbed down our narrow, colorful stairs to be greeted with the panting scent of grandma's kitchen, as she was too busy to notice my presence, so engrossed in her own little world, preparing us some breakfast before we could go birding with grandpa as promised.
I was overjoyed. Finally, after months and months of begging, eventually mom and dad agreed to let me leave for the first time alone with my grandparents outside of Alexandria.
When asked about our trip's location, they picked the small and unproblematic Fayoum governorate with no hesitation.
Fayoum, about two hundred kilometers south of Cairo, was the ideal holiday for every middle class Egyptian family, marked by its mesmerizing nature and unique folklore.
These are all valid reasons to love Fayoum, but the main reason of my excitement has to be: being as far as possible from my insufferable stepmother, Nawal. Whom my father married a month after mom's passing. She looked disgustingly younger than him.
Nawal is annoyingly perfect. Just like a Barbie doll. Fairly tall, with perfectly clear white skin, and a stupid pearly fake smile. Her hair hung in gorgeous golden ringlets. She's always unnecessarily nice to me.
I despised her immediately.
'This is the perfect opportunity to forget about her' I happily thought and pushed away my anger as I lazily settled down on our little dining table. My stomach rumbled loudly in hunger, adding a new note to the repetitive rhythm of Nana's utensils paired with the sound of Gedo's hand as he flicked through the daily newspaper, in search for something interesting to start his day with, creating a comfortable background noise as I observed the sun pouring through our crescent shaped windows, bringing a new chance of life and aspirations alongside its gorgeously blinding golden rays.
I attempted to engrave the image of every detail and every corner of our abode in my mind as if my life depended on it. It was a perfectly assembled masterpiece of a house.
Like any other traditional rural house, each inch of it was full of color.
From the flower patterned cushions that can be found in any corner of the living room, to the massive carpets that were a family property for five generations, crafted with an insane amount of detail and care.
For decades, these carpets had been present for every family member's birth celebration and had come to know their hopes, frailties, and worries.
They even saw the most of them on their deathbeds and carried each person who broke down in tears when they heard the news since their emotions weren't capable of handling it.
A little wooden table and a tiny velvet armchair were the only substantial pieces of furniture in the living room.
On top of the table, an ancient television perched on it can be found, struggling to operate every time you wish to change the station , not that it has many options or anything. Either the news channel or the same television show that has been running since the nineteen seventies.
YOU ARE READING
Odds and Gods
Adventure" O soul that dwells in hidden realms revealed to me, I called on you so I can set you free, to be released from my corpse to flee, reveal yourself to me, your awakener and savior." Was the spell that Sahar had to recite so she can be freed from...
