Fanaa'

Ch # 1

God. I hate this feeling.

I'm in the middle of a street where guns are being fired and I'm having a panic attack.

Being claustrophobic has never helped me in any way at all. And right now, it was being a real threat.

As I stay there in the middle of the crowd, trying to calm myself down, I hear another gunshot and a man drops dead right next to me. I inhale sharply and erase the image from my head. Another gunshot. This time it pierces a child in the chest, and her lifeless body slumps to the ground. I try my best to look away but I can't.  The child's still body looks odd even on a street where people die every day.

We live in a country in which one part is always in war. And unfortunately, our house stood in that part.

I calm down at last as the gunfire ceases and everyone crowds up again, in their hurry to leave. Before we know it, there are gunshots again and multiple people drop dead at the same time.

I push against the people and finally reach a clearing. I take in a breathe to calm myself down and freeze when someone grabs me from behind all of a sudden, with an arm under my neck, holding me by my shoulders and aiming a gun at my head. I suck in harshly, not really wanting to die.

I think of everything in my life I don't want to lose. Qasi, my elder brother. I think back to every game we've ever played, every quarrel we've had. My parents, every ounce of support they've given me, every happy memory.

A tear rolls down my cheek and falls on the arm of the soldier. I feel myself being turned around and I come face-to-face with him. Half of his face is covered by a black cloth. Brown messy hair covers his forehead, falling into his eyes, which are a dull shade of green.

His eyes stare right into mine, and I feel the gun being lowered. Then, through the scarf, he says something which I don't quite understand, as it comes out muffled.

I stand there, not understanding what he had just said.

"Go. Run." He says again, now more loudly, in a raspy voice, and as his sleeve rises up, I notice among many minor details, a black rose tattoo stand out on the skin just below his wrist as he pushes me, saying 'Run' over and over again.

So I obey. I run as fast as my legs can carry me, without ever turning back. I keep running till I reach my neighbourhood and run into my house, shutting the door behind me and lean against it, taking in long, calming breaths.

"Jood?" Qasi's voice calls out and he comes into view.

With brown wavy hair and his tall, skinny frame, he looks a lot like me. Although, he wears glasses and has a thick stubble.

"What happened? Are you alright?" he asks, sounding worried.

"M-market-p-place...g-guns.." I struggle, trying to answer him.

"Oh god, Jood, its okay." He says, hugging me. I bury my head into his chest, letting my tears fall.

"Th-they..." I say, still in shock.

"It's okay, you're okay, Jood" he repeats, reassuring me.

After some time I feel better and pull away, wiping my tears.

"Come on now, give me a smile." He says, looking at me.

I turn my lips up into a slight smile.

"Nope. Not good enough." He says, then walks up to me and starts tickling me.

"Ah, ha ha, Q, ha ha, let me, ha ha, let me go." I yell, between laughs.

"No. Not gonna happen." He says, tickling me even more.

Well, I have a crazy brother. But honestly, I wouldn't last a day without him. I think back to the time when Qasi and I were kids, but the image of the girl at the marketplace fills my mind and my laughter ceases as a shiver goes through me.

Qasi notices this and lets go of me. Then, lifting up my chin to face him, he wipes a tear from my face that I didn't know I had shed.

"Come on, let's get you some food." He says and pulls me up by my hand, dragging me to the kitchen. Reaching into the cabinet, he takes out a can of tinned food from the supplies we have stored.

Living in a war-ridden place means food is scarce. So we live on reserves of canned food. I can't remember a time when I didn't have to eat food out of a can.

Qasi drags me to the room where he and I sleep and we sit down on the floor near our makeshift beds. Then, opening the can, he gives it to me with a spoon. I hesitate to eat, but then he takes the spoon from me and feeds me a spoonful. I chew down on the bland food, swallowing it with force.

"That's my girl." He says, with a smile.

"Qasi, did you eat?"

"Well, I..." he starts and I take the spoon from him and put a spoonful into his mouth, and I remember something and ask him.

"Where are mom and dad?"

"They said they were going someplace super important. Didn't tell me where though."

"They left you all alone?"

"Not like it bothers me. "

Qasi and I continue eating till we finish the can and he gets out letting me change. Our room is in the basement, so it's safe from all the firing. We all sleep in the basement, also storing our things there.

As I'm done changing into comfortable pyjamas and a long t shirt, I open the door to let my brother back in. We don't have phones, but we do have a radio, which is more than anyone else has got. We switch on the radio and listen to some of the tunes to pass time. Thankfully, the signal tower in our area is still intact, so the radio works well.

I let the radio drown out the silence as I sit there ,thinking over what had happened today. I had never actually been in such close range, as my parents were very protective by nature, so the possibility of what could have happened scared me.

And no matter how many times I thought about it, nothing could quite explain what would have actually been running through that particular soldier's mind.
______________________________________

Hearing the sound of something falling upstairs, I rush up, hardly bothering to check on my brother. He was a very light sleeper, so he had probably woken earlier.

Making my way up the stairs, I catch snippets of the conversation, and not being able to make anything out, I walk straight into the living room where my parents are gathered , along with my brother.

"Impossible, baba."

I turn to Qasi. "What's impossible?"

He turns to me, frustration clear in his expression. "Nothing, ya Jood. Go back to sleep."

"Qasi."

"Fine." He turns to dad. "Will you tell her or should I?"

"Qasi." Dad just sighs, then as if making up his mind, turns to me.

"Jood, you're getting married."

*-*-*