Joseph felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His brother had always been secretive about his affairs – his parents were the conservative type. But hiding a whole marriage?
He felt his head spinning and lifted his palm to his forehead. Hadar grabbed him as he was about to fall and sat him down on a stool.
“Joseph. I know this will be hard for you to take in. Your brother.....”
“Just shut up. I don’t want any more of this bullshit. My brother was a lie. My country was a lie. Heck, my whole fucking life has been a lie.”
“I’m sorry.”
They both fell silent. Joseph poked at the dust with a stick, slowly making patterns. Hadar began to sob quietly beside him, but he took no notice.
“BASTARD!” Joseph snapped the stick in two across his thigh and roared in anger.
“Get up. I need to go see Samir.” His voice was cold and steely.
Hadar didn’t move.
“I said get up.”
Silence.
“GET UP!” Joseph grabbed Hadar roughly by the collar and pushed her onto the dust. She lay sprawling, her tank top now a muddy brown, and blood trickled from a fresh cut on her arm.
Hadar whimpered.
“I’m really sorry Joseph. Your brother was an amazing man. I fell for him the moment I saw him. When he used to hold me in his arms – I would feel like the world’s problems would melt away. Please forgive me.”
The wave of anger had passed and Joseph helped Hadar up to her feet. She shook the dust off her shirt, and, ripping off a length off cloth from her jeans, bandaged her bleeding arm.
“Follow me.”
She began to slowly walk towards a wooden sign with a cross, the traditional symbol for health and treatment, etched into it. Joseph followed behind, thinking about his brother. Ibrahim had become reclusive after high school – they had begun to see less and less of him at home – he always claimed he was busy. Suddenly, at 20, he had moved out for no apparent reason. Joseph chuckled now as he saw Hadar striding up ahead of him. Of course there had been a reason. She was perfect for him – intelligent, funny, and even stubborn at times.
He ducked his head as Hadar lifted the flap of the nurse’s tent and ushered him in. There had been around 20 bed-like structures erected, and Joseph’s eyes scanned around the room until he found Samir.
He gasped. Samir’s face had lost all colour – the usual radiance replaced with a deathly whitish hue. There were pale blue bags forming under his eyes, and he was tightly wrapped in a brown wool blanket.
“Ishka...Azam....Ishka....Azam” Samir’s lower lip trembled and a thin sliver of saliva trickled down his chin to his shoulder. A nurse quickly appeared by the bedside, produced a white antiseptic napkin, and wiped his face.
“Hush baby. Azam isn’t here now. You’re safe. Hush.” The nurse slowly patted Samir’s head as he snivelled.
“Joseph. Where’s Joseph? I need to see Joseph.”
Joseph leant down over the bed.
“I’m over here Samir.”
He had never seen Samir in a state like this.
“Ishka.....Azam.....Ishka.....Azam......” Samir’s voice trailed off as he mumbled something indecipherable
Joseph’s heart skipped a beat.
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Teen Fiction"Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable." John. F. Kennedy. It was 2.30 in the morning. A blindfold covered Joseph's eyes. Not that it was of much use, it was pitch black anyway. A police siren wailed...
