| Previously Featured |
| Book One of the Moon Chronicles |
"To hear, one must be silent."
The Power of the tongue and intelligence of a human being is what makes them different from God's other creations. It is what makes them powerful, it i...
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"The reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity; it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous possesive love that grabs at what it can."
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The following morning, the cry of my baby brother and soft hushed urgent whispers of my parents woke me up. I knew at once that he was not feeling, and I hurried towards him with whatever aid I could possibly give.
It was still dark, but I could make out the faint lines of the sun rays penetrating through the dark sky when I peeped from my window. It was considerably cooler now as I made my way towards my parent's room.
My mother was bobbing the crying baby up and down while pacing beside their bed, whispering silly things to quieten him down. My father sat on the edge of the bed, dark circles evident under his red tired eyes.
Can I help? I asked when his gaze met mine.
He shook his head and stared at the mother and child. I stared at the small stool on the other side of their bed which had all the medicines splattered on it. She must have given him the medicines, but the fever still wasn't down.
She had also tried to put wet cloth piece on Imad's forehead, but he must have removed it and thrown it away because it lay on the ground.
"Give him a bath, Ayesha," my father suggested. "It will hopefully decrease his temperature and make him feel better."
She nodded and walked outside the room with the baby, who was still screaming and wailing on top of his lungs, trying to make sense of whatever he was feeling and hoping that we could somehow cure it.
I could hear him choke on his spit and cough and then continue crying even more louder, if possible.
How long has this been going on? I asked.
"About an hour and a half."
The fever hasn't come down since? I was shocked. This should not be happening, it was bad for a fever to stay for so long even after the medicines been given. Normally, it took three-fourth of an hour for the medicines to finally work, and the fever to reduce.
"No. Ayesha is getting worried."
I nodded, obviously, my mother should be worried. He was just six months old baby. He did not have the immunity that we did. Normal flu could also prove to be dangerous for him.
I heard my brother cough again, and this time, it sounded deep, as if coming from his chest, and then my mother screamed.
My father was the first to react; he was at his feet at once and was running towards the direction of the bath while I was few seconds late but on his heels. The sight that we saw made all the blood drain from our body, and my stomach convulsed as if ready to release all that it had.
