Because It Is My Blood

Prologue

Zafira tilted her head towards the doorway as the front door closed with a thud. Her parents Samar and Safi had just left to run a few errands, leaving her with her twin nine year-old brother Zulfiqar for up to half an hour. Zulfiqar simply stared with an expression of awe at their window as their parents tail lights disappeared from view. She soon had tuned out her surroundings, in favor of looking at her small hand-made doll, and not realizing in the back of her innocent mind that she hadn't heard the familiar click of the front door locking. 

Ten minutes passed of Zafira sitting like that and her twin brother staring out at the dusk sky outside their windows before Zulfiqar jumped at an unexpected noise. Both children turned their heads to the source of the noise, their front door stood wide open, neither child could see anyone that could have entered. 

"Is someone there?" Zafira's young voice asked the supposedly empty air while Zulfiqar's head looked around the house in his sight. Zafira tentatively stood, and walked over to where the door hung open. She gently shut it, there was no noise to follow the action this time.

"Sissy, Who is that man?" Zulfiqar's childish and slightly panicked voice came from the living room. Zafira sprinted quickly back into the room, staring worriedly at her brother and wildly looking around her house. She jumped back when she saw the man her brother spoke of, six foot tall with greasy, buzz-cut, brown hair. He wore an old pair of grey trousers and a grey jacket with a bulge in the pocket, both with innumerable stains. His face was sick with pallor, he was a European colonist. Zafira opened her mouth, barely registering that she was screaming. He quickly leapt forward, pulling a bronze-colored knife out of his hoodie pocket. Zulfiqar's terrified face was reflected, distorted of the knife's surface as the man jumped over the chair Zafira had been sitting in, and landed in front of the little boy.

Zafira screamed again, this time it came out as 'no', but it was still a barely intelligible screech. Her and her brother's faces contorted with fear as the man slid the knife, as smooth as a steak knife cutting through butter, into the boys throat. Her brother gave a weak cough, and collapsed, bleeding onto the once off-white carpet. Zafira felt the strength leave her as she watched the light fade from her brother's black eyes. She collapsed onto her knees, eyes locked onto her brother's once unmarked, tan skin.

In the back of her terrified mind, she barely noticed movement on the hilt of the knife. Such a small detail for an overly panicked mind to notice.

The man began moving towards her, a smile contorted his once-normal face into something unrecognizable as human. Zafira's mouth simply hung open, looking at her brother's body, but not processing what it was that she was seeing.

The man was but a few small feet away from her small form now, transversable by one stride. Grinning, he transversed the small distance that had originally protected the trembling girl on the floor.

He picked her up, effortlessly pulling her small form off of the carpet. The man held the knife mere centimeters away from the girl throat, smiling with bloodlust.

In the few seconds that it had taken him to pick her up, a small voice began screaming in his mind, soon gaining power, no longer being a small voice. His facial expression and eyes soon changed, the slightest bit. Not letting go of their murderous intent, but weakening their power to slit the throat of the girl before them. Zafira was too panicked to notice his miniscule change in intent, and remained squirming, too weak to scream.

He moved the knife slowly closer to her throat, struggling within himself to kill her. As the blade moved closer to neck, she squirmed more, entertaining the possibility that she could free herself from his grasp.

She gasped and weakly struck out with her knee, barely hitting the man in the stomach. Despite her obvious disadvantage to harming the man, it stunned him enough for her to wriggle out of his grasp as he dropped the knife.

Zafira desperately reached out for the handle of the weapon which had been threatening her own life. When she felt her small hand close around the slightly damp grip, she ran. She made a beeline for the front door, hoping she was fast enough to make it outside and hide from her attacker.

Zafira ran as quickly as she could. She felt no pain or burning of her lungs. Her one goal of flight and adrenaline burned all other thoughts out of her mind. Her grip on the handle of the knife tightened.

She ran along the dark waters of the nile, her linen pants making more noise then she would have wished. She quietly ducked behind a rock along the river's edge

She heard the man's heavy footsteps rushing towards her, she quickly quieted her frantic breathing, hoping that he wouldn't hear her and notice her small form.

Zafira had stopped her output of noise too late, the man had noticed, and rushed towards her hiding spot. He stood above her, but his eyes were softer than before, more human. He leaned forward, grabbed her small trembling wrist, and plunged the knife between his own ribs, tainting the young girl's once innocent eyes.

"I'm sorry," The man's voice whispered words neither she nor Zulfiqar would remember in the future.

Zafira cringed, fighting the urge to scream, as her wrist began burning with pain, an unknown symbol marking her tan skin. Soon, all the pain disappeared, she was floating in a blessed state of unconsciousness.