And You became my Dawn

Chapter# 9

  

"Sandal! Listen. You have to identify Shoaib's body so we can complete the formalities and take them home. Okay? Everyone is waiting there. Your mother is waiting. We have to hurry." Says a familiar masculine voice.

"Let's go, Sandal." Says a feminine voice.

White...

Red...

White sheets and red stains.

Bloodstained white sheets... as far as I see.

"This way." A masculine voice said.

In the corner, I saw bodies with their hands uncovered.

"Sandal! Look, their hands. Can you recognize which one is Shoaib's?" Someone asked me.

"The third hand. It's... Shoaib's watch. But... why here? ... why does he have blood on his hand? What happened to his hand? Why..."

"Don't touch! He was shot in the hand and ..." a voice said.

My eyes shot open as I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Like someone had squeezed my heart. Clutching my bedspread, I sit straight, trying to calm my heavy breaths.

Ya Allah...

Suddenly, the speakers of the mosque switched on and the Fajar Azaan started. Slowly, I got up from the bed and open the window. I have always loved hearing the voices of Azaan coming from mosques and its echoes in the silence of dawn.

I close my eyes, feeling the cold breeze caress my face. It's like all my pain flew away with it and I am in peace. At this moment, it's just me and my Allah, calling me to him and everything else has vanished.

I stood there, closing my eyes until a pair of small hands embraced me from behind. I opened my eyes.

"Assalam o Alaikum, bajjo." Hareem says as she tried to squeeze me. It makes me smile, normally she does that when she wants something.

"Wallaikum Assalam! I was about to wake you up."

"Hmm!"

"What happened, Hareem? Do you need anything?"

"Na-ah! I don't need it but you do."

"I need what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A hug." She says, squeezing me a little harder.

"Okay! And may I ask you why I need a hug?" I asked, holding both of her hands.

"Cause you had a bad dream." She said in a low voice and I kept silent.

"Hey, bajjo!" After a moment, she calls me again.

"Hm?"

"You smell like flowers." She says slyly and it made me chuckle.

"Hareem, what are you? A dog?" I asked her jokingly.

"Nope! A cute little puppy."

"Okay! Then what does my cute little puppy say about Areeba appi?"

"A roasted chicken that was burnt during cooking." She said bluntly and I hit her hand which was still around my waist. Both of them had never got along, they are used to fighting for every little thing.

"I heard that, shortie!" We both hear a voice and turn around to see Areeba standing at the door. Hareem is quite small for her age, she will be twelve this year but looks like ten years old and she doesn't like the fact that she is small. She stuck out her tongue to Areeba and ran into the bathroom.