Imane khelif

When Courage Calls

Two years had passed, and Iman's life had settled into a rhythm.Iman's physical transformation over the past two years had been striking. At sixteen, she stood tall and lean, her body toughened by years of manual labor. Her once-round face had sharpened, revealing high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Her skin, sun-kissed from countless hours outdoors, had a warm, golden hue that seemed to glow in the right light.

Her eyes, a deep brown flecked with gold. Those eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, could convey volumes without a word. Her thick, dark hair was usually pulled back in a practical ponytail, though a few rebellious strands often escaped to frame her face.

Iman's hands, once small and soft, had grown strong and calloused from years of carrying heavy baskets. Her long fingers were nimble and quick, equally adept at solving complex math problems or swiftly counting change for customers.

She moved with a quiet grace, her stride long and purposeful. Even in her well-worn jeans and simple t-shirts, there was an understated beauty about her that was beginning to turn heads, though Iman remained oblivious to the attention.

Iman's bread-selling business had grown. She now had regular customers who relied on her daily deliveries. Her family's financial situation had improved, though they were far from Providing their daily needs. The weight of responsibility still rested heavily on Iman's shoulders, but she carried it with a quiet determination.

At school, Iman kept to herself. The laughter and chatter of her classmates washed over her like background noise. She focused on her studies, excelling in math and sciences. Teachers praised her work, but often noted her reluctance to participate in class discussions.

The incident with Laila two years ago had left a deep scar. Iman could still hear the echo of cruel laughter, the sting of betrayal when she realized Ahmed had shared her secret. Since then, she had withdrawn, building walls around her heart.

Ahmed had tried to apologize, to explain, but Iman shut him out. The memory of his easy laughter with Laila that day still burned. She convinced herself it was better this way - safer to be alone than to risk being hurt again.

Flash back ................................................

One afternoon, as Iman was packing up
her things after class, she overheard a group of girls whispering and giggling. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but a familiar name caught her attention.

"Did you see Ahmed today?" one girl said, her voice tinged with admiration. "He's gotten so handsome."

"Too bad he's still hung up on the bread girl," another replied with a snicker. "What was her name again? Iman?"

Iman froze, her hand tightening on her backpack strap.

"Oh, please," a third voice chimed in - Laila's voice. "Ahmed's way too good for her. He'll realize that soon enough."

The girls' laughter faded as they moved away, leaving Iman rooted to the spot. A mixture of emotions churned inside her - anger, hurt, and something else she couldn't quite name.
.........................................................
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city streets, Iman was making her way home after another long day of selling bread. Her basket was empty, a testament to a successful day's work, but her mind was full of the usual worries and responsibilities that weighed on her.

Suddenly, a commotion down a nearby alley caught her attention. Iman heard a girl's frightened voice and the threatening tone of a boy. The sound made her chest tighten - something in that girl's voice spoke of real fear. Without hesitation, she rushed towards the sound, her empty bread basket swinging at her side.