MELODY (Book 1) ✓

Chapter 35 (Respite)

As quietly as possible, I peeked through the crack of the door and sneaked out of the room. It was a small hallway that suited a small apartment. The exit door was right in front me, and a wimpy thought poked at my head, telling me to just open the front door and leave.

Taking a step closer, my eyes glimpsed a tall figure on the periphery of the entrance hall.

To the left, Akram stood straight in what seemed to be a dining area. Over a small rectangular carpet, he faced a narrow window from which the lights of the day appeared. His profile was calm and serene, illuminated by the sunlight that emitted from behind the windowpane.

I dropped the bag on the floor and stood still.

Akram looked different, wearing sweatpants, white t-shirt and a dark blue beanie. He stared down at the carpet in concentration while resting his hands, overlapped, on his chest. His lips moved, whispering unintelligible words with complete engrossment.

Rooted to my spot, I watched Akram as he raised his hands, parallel with his ears, angled his upper body, and bowed in obeisance while holding his knees. He straightened, repeating the hand gesture, got down on his knees in a genuflection and prostrated. His motions expressed so much reverence that it was hard not to stare.

I held my breath when I realized he was praying.

Akram stood up again, repeating the movements. I remained quiet and motionless, afraid to disturb his peace, and waiting for him to complete his prayer.

Luckily, I recognized what he was doing from television, but I had no knowledge of the appropriate attitude expected from me in this situation. The sight was beautiful and intriguing. He had such an angelic charm while he invoked unknown desires of his God. I wondered what he would pray for. Or if his prayers could ever include me.

Why would he even pray for me? I'm not that special... Stupid thought!

When I was seven, I'd been to church a few times with one of the foster families I'd lived with. Nobody had insisted that I follow, though. I was a shy kid, and I didn't like crowded places. It was just quite different from the performance in front of me.

Now, it was hard to decide what to do. I was curious to stay and watch, but I debated whether to go back in the room until he was done, or stay as quiet as possible in order not to interrupt him.

Or flee from the front door!

Coward!

Before I settled on a conclusion, Akram turned his head nodding to the right then to the left, whispering a secret greeting to someone invisible. While he was kneeling, he lifted placid eyes toward me, and his lips curved up.

"Hey," he said softly. He got up and folded his prayer mat.

With an awkward smile, I raised my hand halfway and wiggled my fingers. He placed the mat on a nearby chair and closed the distance between us in a few strides.

"Good morning." Akram greeted me. He picked up my cold hand and cupped it gently between his palms. "How do you feel?" He inspected my face, his tired eyes full of concern. " You slept okay?"

"I'm fine." I assured him. "Thank you... for everything," I whispered, deeply thankful. I could be more thankful, but I wasn't sure how to show it. I didn't know if a hug was appropriate, but I really wanted to hug him.

"Anytime," He replied in earnest, staring straight into my eyes for a second. "You still look tired." His hand floated up and stopped inches from my face. The sides of his mouth crinkled, along with his eyes and he let his arm dive back down. There was an indecipherable expression that made my heart shudder.