Embracing the other

CHAPTER 5

-"The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had"-

Zubiya's POV:

The woman is right in front of me, circling me like a vulture. Ready to prey on me the second I let myself become vulnerable. She is oddly familiar; the way she's walking, the way she sneers at me, the way her hair falls down her back in beautiful brown curls. But what bothers me most is her face, it so familiar yet I can't recognize it. Those haunting pools of brown seem to stare right through me, stripping me until my soul is revealed. I unconsciously step forward hoping to catch a better look at her. But that proves to be the wrong move as the second I take a step, she latches on to me curling her hands around my neck and crushing it with all the strength in her body. She seethes at me and when I look up at her in desperation I scream with recognition, it's me. I'm killing myself and suddenly I don't want to struggle anymore, so I give in to the pain; I let myself kill me. I choke myself until stars spot my vision but suddenly the hands around my neck grow weak and I'm in a different place.

I'm in a moving car, beautiful scenery passes by and I'm in the passenger seat. I look to my right and my mother is driving, we are going to Nano's house she tells me. I haven't seen her for so long I can't help but talk animatedly to gain her attention every few minutes. I love how she looks at me when I talk. Wait. She shouldn't be looking at me; she should look at the road. I tell her to focus on the road and she just smiles at me. I try to tell her again but my words get drowned by the loud horn, a warning. The smile on my mother's face seems to be tattooed as the car coming in from the opposite direction hits us. My mind doesn't register the impact until our car is somersaulting in the air. My cries are cut off by the seat belt that digs into me as our car tumbles and tosses us like clothes in a washing machine.

Something is choking me; this time it's the smoke that suffocates me and burns my lungs. I try to break free from the leather that's wound around me but it's too tight and it too hot; too hot, it shouldn't be this hot. This is wrong, this all wrong. My head shouldn't hurt this much, there shouldn't be this much blood on my hands, my legs shouldn't feel like there being baked. Mama shouldn't be screaming; ma. I twist myself, screaming in pain as my body objects to the movement.

"Mama!" I scream at her but she can't seem to hear me. I try to free her from the seat belt but it seems to be stuck to her. I feel someone pulling me from my side and I want to kill them, they are taking me away from Mama. They can't, I have to save my mama, I can't let her hurt. I scream and claw at the hands grabbing despite my body's protests. I have to go back in. But they don't let me and the last thing I see is my ma, the women who gave birth to me. The woman who loved me when no one else did look at me and the last thing she says, "Why didn't you save me?"

I cry as my eyes shut down and my body gives up on me, just like everyone else.

I wake in sweaty sheets with tears streaming down my eyes and my mouth buried in my pillow to muffle my cries. The pain in my chest is tearing me apart, it's worse than all the injuries I've ever received, it's worse than the throbbing in my head and it's worse than all the burns. The stream of tears doesn't seem to stop and with shaky hands, I switch on the lamp on the table next to my bed. Still trembling I take out my sketchbook and charcoals from the top drop, it's almost finished and I struggle to find a clean page, especially with the tears blinding me. As soon as the pencil touches the paper, my hands feel stronger and by the time I finish, the sun has risen and my sobs have turned into small sniffles, The multiple traces of tears on the paper only add to the rawness of the sketch, and for a second I shudder, terrified of the darkness that just poured out of me. I quickly keep it back inside scared that someone might see it, even though I know for a fact no other eyes will ever behold it other than mine.