FACETS # 2 | 1st Draft
Yahya Firas burnt every day in the fire of destruction lit by his parents.
Suffered. Survived.
Armineh Zain Ahmed was given to a man in marriage for another in the name of reparation.
Debts paid. Amends made.
Their paths coll...
Sher with his shaking hands took the red box out of his pocket, Malik had thrusted it in his small palms on his way to her room, "Give it to Wajeeha. She will be happy."
True to Malik's words, she was beaming at him when he set it on the bed between them. Sher watched with childish curiosity when she picked it up and opened it with a gasp.
"Put it on me," She said, holding out her hand to him along with the ring, satiating his curiousness.
She wriggled her ring finger, urging him on when he hesitated and he obliged wordlessly, the ring was beautiful as it glimmered brilliantly in the dimly lit room.
"I love it. I love you," She told him, tugging the dupatta off her head and moved closer to Sher.
He scrambled to his feet, startled at the woman's behavior who was on her knees in front of him. Sher couldn't move away from her in time, she gripped his forearms in her hands and hauled him onto the bed.
"No, let me go!" Sher cried when Wajeeha sat atop him, her nimble fingers working furtively on opening the buttons of his kameez. His little body trembled underneath her as the cool air touched his now bare chest.
"No! No!" Hot tears burned his eyes.
"Stop! Please! Don't do this," He sobbed, struggling under her weight to free his arms locked to his sides.
She lowered herself to press a kiss to his cheek. "Shh, love. You'll be a man come tomorrow," She whispered, trailing her fingers down his undeveloped jaw.
"Please! Let me go! Please!" He pleaded. "My siblings are all alone. Please!"
Wajeeha glowered at him, the heart-wrenching fear in his voice was not for her, he needed to be taught a lesson. She didn't let him leave, his wretched screams echoed in the deserted gallery.
Distant howls were the only witnesses to the onslaught of terror that ended that bleak night.
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