The Easiest Target

Ant Feeder

Athan joins me on the couch carefully one night while we're hiding from his family. He gives me a cup of water and my usual vitamin pills. I take them just to avoid the hostility. He takes my wrist when I'm done and rolls my sleeve up, brushing a thumb over my forearm. "Do you shave or something?" he asks.

I tug my arm away, rolling my sleeve down. "I'm not hairy."

"Do you have pubic hair?" he asks, so serious I feel my skin crawl.

"Why would that matter?"

"Just a question," he sighs and goes back to his bed to study.

I have a very bad feeling about this....

***

Athan corners me in the bathroom that night when I go in for a shower. Everyone left the house with Khala earlier for some reason, so it's just us. There's an emptiness in his eyes that chills me. It reminds me of his uncle. "Athan, stop," I bleat. He lifts me onto the bathroom sink.

"No," I blurt, trying to shove him back. He takes both of my wrists and restrains me with one hand then slips a hand under my shirt, unclips my bra and runs his thumb over my breast, his whole hand just resting around my ribs. I scream, trying to slip free. He tugs at my pants and underwear out and stares. I yank an arm free and smack him so hard he stumbles back.

I scream and throw myself at him, yanking his pants and underwear down, shoving him to the floor, pushing his shirt up — I spit on him and smack him again — and then he kangaroo kicks me so hard I slam into the edge of the sink cabinets and fall there. I curl up small, holding myself as the pain radiates up to my scalp. I take heaving breaths, tears sliding down my cheeks as I writhe on the bathroom floor. What the hell was that? Why? What did I do? What does he want?!

"Hadeel," he takes my arm.

"Stay away from me. GET AWAY FROM ME!" I scream so loud my throat scratches.

He leaves without saying a word. I lay there until my body goes numb and cold and the world goes dark. I wish I didn't have to wake up.

***

His soft lips press to my forehead, his thick arms carrying me somewhere warm. I whimper and start to cry — like it's my body's default reaction to him. "Don't cry, Hadeel. Please. What's wrong? What happened?" He sits on his bed and cradles me in his lap, holding me just tight enough to not feel suffocating. He's shaking, too. He's panting.

He turns his pillow over and takes out a bottle of pills, rattling in his grasp.

Layla Alburj.

I go stiff and crawl away, gaping at him. "What happened?" he whispers shakily, tears in his eyes. "Did Hilal come? Did you fall?"

"You took her medicine?"

"I just wanted to turn it off. Just for a minute," he holds his chest. "Why were you on the floor? Was it me?"

I go rigid, watching him grow more and more unstable. "Wa—turn what off?"

"This," he cries, yanking his tight collar down so hard his shirt tears. "Do you know what it's like to be in this much pain and be allergic to the only thing that can calm it down?!" He holds his head, rubs it until he's all red. "Everything hurts all the time. I learned to ignore it but sometimes I can't breathe. I just — I never blacked out like that before...."