My Islamophobic Bully, the Gangster

4. The Day Everything Changed

Jawa

3 weeks later

"Fucking Hell Jawa, get out of my way" Mrs Miller screamed at me, I ducked from the light smashing above me and then ran the opposite way. This was getting out of hand.

Today is August 21. Eid al-Adha. I dodged another plate crashing at me, and then turned to Mrs Miller, she had just picked up a mug and was about to chuck it at me again.

The reason behind it her wanting to throw it at me was because apparently, I wash dishes the wrong way.

"Stop throwing things at me!" I screamed. This was pointless, everything about this place was stupid! How the hell do you even wash a plate in a right way?

She stopped.

All the children stopped.

Everything seemed to have stopped. Then I realised what had happened. I signed my death sentence when I talked back to Mrs.Miller.

Her face turned to rage, her eyes squished up like she was thinking really hard. Her mouth turned into a straighter line. Her cheeks went pink and her hands went into fists. This was bad.

I bolted out of the room and then continued down the hall. I knew she was following. I also knew she would not give up.

I came to the end of the hallway.

I turned and met her eye to eye as I found her laughing. "Nowhere to run, Rug-head" She sneered.

I thought for a moment before I ran straight at her as she panicked but caught herself just in time to grab my arm. Her nails became blood red as they dug into my tanned skin. I cried out in pain and then turned and hit her. Hard. She let go and held her face, swearing at me.

I took that chance and continued to escape. I left the house and then continued down the yard toward the gate. It was tall, with the wire above it with spikes. It's like a prison.

I turned back to see her still following me, this time, I saw a baseball bat.

What the hell?!

I panicked again, and shoved one foot in the wire fence and then another, then my hands, then I began to climb but I couldn't, my heavy body couldn't lift me up but I tried harder.

'O Alive and everlasting One, I beseech You by Your mercy' I began reciting as I tried to climb to the top of the gate but my body didn't get to the top.

'If I get out of here then I am free' I thought as a flicker of hope wash at me.

Although every hope I had died out the moment Mrs.Miller reached the fence. She didn't climb, instead, she began to shake it furiously.

"You"

Shake

"Get"

Shake

"Down"

Shake

"This"

Shake

"Instant"

Shake

I held on for dear life and just as I thought I had made it through her shaking, my hands slip. I grab back to the fence but get the wire spikes. They pierce through my hands. I screamed as I saw the spikes come out through the other side of my hand. How the hell are they so pointy? How can it come through the other side?!

I let go, automatically, and fell backwards.

Shit.

This is how people break their backs.

The fall seemed to go on forever, I instantly saw everything flash before me. My mother, father, blood, bombing, the orphanage, the beatings, Mohammad leaving, more beatings, More foster homes, me missing Mohammad, me running, me crying. Finally, it settled on something I did right. Mohammad. I let him go and made him have a happy life. his face smiles in my mind.

I didn't get to scream. Instead, I hit the floor with a thud and I chocked out blood. Mrs. Miller looked petrified. "Shit" I heard her whisper.

My mind began to close as the red washed over me. The smiling face of a four year old Mohammad blurred and I briefly tried to picture him now. Is he happy? did they cut his hair? Was his last name still Abdullah? None of my questions about my brother was answered because at that moment, my eyes fluttered closed, the pain began to leave by my toes and I began to fall into a deep sleep.

A small tear ran down my face.

"What's her name?" Someone said quietly.

Another voice murmured "Jawa A-b-duullah. She was found outside of the fence." she breathed.

"You know that orphanage on the end of the street, that was abandoned by the orphanage owner. Well, we believe she was the reason the landlord left all the kids behind and escaped. She was on the floor beside the fence. Blood was found on the top of the spikes which explains the puncture wounds on her hands. Which also means she was up there, which explains her fall. She was lucky she didn't break her back"

"Do you think she had a reason for climbing that fence?" The first person said.

"From what the other children said, the lady, Mrs. Miller, hit and beat them. But this girl got the most because she was the oldest. Apparently, she was running and had nowhere to go but up"

Someone sighed. "Such a sad story,"

Then there was a silence.

I woke up again and opened my eyes this time. Someone was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. I took in my surroundings quickly and realised I was in a hospital. I sighed. Maybe this was my lucky escape.

"Hello?" I whispered.

The man in the chair jumped high before he smiled at me. "Hello Jawa, I am your new social worker. Let me go get your doctor"

The stranger returned with whom I assume was my doctor who explained that my increased fat added padding to prevent damage to internal organs and bones and because I wasn't able to climb to the top, I only have a fractured hand and a broken leg.  It would take me some time to recover ...but at least I would be able to still walk. Which meant I would be able to run.

I tried to move my finger, it did, but only a little.

The doctor apologised to me. Which confused me, it wasn't his fault.

I told him that, and then he left. Leaving me alone with the man. "Jawa, I am going to contact people so I could place you in a good home to live in"

Good. Home. Those words were like heaven to me.

"Thank you" I whispered, smiling myself to sleep.