Wrong Suffered At Hands (Part One: Chapter One)

 

Wrong Suffered At Hands

 

Afiyah Khadim, an absolute blunt and candid soul; is trying to live a blissful life deprived of a mother. She was too young to be aware of the humankind’s brutal grasp towards a motherless young girl, the cruel allegations they claimed at her as if she lived with no covering and the rocks hit right onto her head.

Relying on a brother, she perceived the miserable fortuity she had the moment she was dropped out of school just to tie the knots with a man she barely recognized and was terrorized to carry a child at a tender age. And when she assumed she had adequately digested the brutal assaults of her life, her past reunited with her, inflicting more hardships and breaking more hearts.

Part One

Brought to entity

 

The clouds gathered into pillows engulfing the sky into a perfect grey, the streak of lightning was seen hitting places prior to the loud rumbling that was heard. The very first bead of rainfall that tickled her cheek was washed away by the gust of wind that pierced through her fair hair. 

Afiyah was shoved out of her flight of imagination the moment the motorbike’s engine roared upon her ears, she took a hold of those broad shoulders that cloaked the pleasing sight of the road, “Be quick, the head master will surely impose a fine on me this time around.”

Her sneer grew into a yelp the exact moment Sameer twisted the throttle. The tires of the tumbledown Kawasaki squeaked against the drenched road. Afiyah let her arms fly open, flinging her head back; she closed her eyes as she sensed the frigid nip in the air pound against her face in agreement with the rain.

They penetrated through the rain and wind at once. She must have been ill at ease about her brother's choice of wearing sunglasses in this weather, but she needn't have worried—he was just trying to appear cool while also concealing the swelling beneath his eyes caused by the lack of sleep.

Afiyah was an early bird. Apart from having to wait for the keeper to undo the gates, she despised running late for school. There were instances when she would be waiting for her brother to return from the mosque after reciting fajr while lingering out by the door dressed in her unrestricted attire.

Afiyah adored her brother to the hilt, and she detested it when her friends called attention to his sleepy demeanor whenever he dropped her off at school or the way he would morph into a divine being whenever he returned to take her home. They never chose the right routes, which might be why she desired to be driven to school ahead of schedule. Sameer knew places no other being identified. The routes were in the tail of elsewhere, hurtling through the vacant roadways was an amusement for both siblings; they had an indescribable love for one another.

“You better head back home rather than roaming round about. Sameer, Papa Jan must be concerned about you."  As she slung the strands of her bag over her shoulders, she expressed her fret. She noticed how Sameer treated their Father with complete disregard whenever he was brought up in conversation.

He fiddled with his wallet, “Here, only healthy food.”

She yanked the hard cash out of her brother's grasp and attempted to leave.

“Wait.”

She approached her previous spot to observe Sameer getting off of the motorbike. Afiyah failed to notice the subtle shift in his expression as he fixed his focus on her.

His feet drew to a halt in front of her, her face shoved against his chest.

"Just let me..." He tucked his sleeves into a precise fold before burying his fingers deep into her damp hair. She somewhat restrained a chuckle as Sameer began to fiddle with her hair. He rearranged her hair that was merely in contact with her shoulder, giving them a slight push.

"At the very least, you appear to be in decent condition." He stepped back. Afiyah observed him fetching his cell phone from out his pocket.

"You, who attest to be called my sister, have a look at this."

As she caught a sight of herself on the device's blank display, Afiyah let out a frustrated cry. Her hair was a mess; the curls now tangled as they fell on her face.

Sameer clamped his lips to its greatest but fell short to conceal the smile that stretched his lips.

“I'll sue you.” she wailed beforehand strolling towards the entry gate to her school as she tied her damped hair into a tousled braid.

Afiyah ambled in the middle of playground, the dewy grass staging her shoes. Students were quickly swarming the school as they made their way to their classes, many of whom were hidden from sight under the umbrellas. Afiyah inspected each one of them and reasoned about them being naïve to cease the rain from falling over them. The rain she fancied; modest droplets of rain collapse over you just to be swept away by the swirl of the wind. She wasn’t downright damped, her hair were slightly wet where the wet patches sat on her shoulders.

“Over here, Fiyah.”

She cast a quick glance towards the two petite girls waving at her. She smiled as she bear to imitate their action. Geared up to sprint towards them, her smile faded the second she spotted an old man wending her ways towards her. Behind him, his hands were clasped; His grey beard, which was in direct range to his extensive chest, and the ashy strands of his hair, which were pulled back, particularly irritated her.

He caught her eye, and she dipped her head down. As though a train were thundering down the tracks, her heart pounded against her chest. She rushed towards the building, leaving her friends befuddled and yelling out over at her.

She gulped the parchedness that arose in her throat the moment she entered her classroom. In contrast to the weather outside, her classroom was in a comfortable state and peace filled her.

At least she breathed with ease.

 

The day elapsed faster than she might’ve imagined, after getting scolded by Eshaal and Bushra for giving them a miss earlier; she let them be aware of the reason just as they were already pretty sure.

Afiyah was in grade seven, a year back when she first witnessed Mr. Farooq, the Literature instructor attempting a brutal activity towards a student in the empty hallway. The episode took place when she left her books in the classroom and she had to walk back all the way up to the stairs.

She wasn’t wise enough to foresee what waited for her, she swayed from side to side like the frisky little kid she was; her eyes shifted to the front where she overheard a few exchange of words.

The moment she saw an elderly man leaning over a girl, who had her pinned against the wall, she knew it was a bad idea to come up all the way by one self; she regretted not allowing Eshaal to go along with her.

Where she couldn’t believe her eyes, she quietly stepped aside; her back came in contact with the pillar as she let her ear catch the words audibly.

She could perceive the girl was pleading; the words seem to fall halfway somewhere in between let me go or let it go. Afiyah had no idea what the girl had detailed about.

Curious to her bones, she tilted her neck in route to where the incident unfolded. With a gasp, she clasped her palm across her mouth, and the stack of books slipped from her grasp as it thudded against the tiled floor.

The scene itself gave chills to run down her spine, the only thing she encountered was the vein-streaked hands that roamed about places they shouldn’t; the girl’s face was a reflection of pure terror and disgust.

As soon as they both glanced her way, the stack of books was discarded as she worked her way down the building.

"Who's there?"  He called out in her direction.

Her boots smacked on the concrete stairwell, and her heart pounded against her chest. The fear crawled up to her insides the moment she felt someone yank her wrist; she was slammed against the wall. Her eyes clamped shut as she felt the man enclose towards her, the grip on her jaw was hard enough to leave soreness.

"How about you, little one, are you planning to flee this way?" She caught a scent of tobacco in his breath, which irritated her nose.

No, she wanted to protest, but the harsh way he grasped her jaw prevented her from doing so. She groaned, attempting to thrash but it was of no avail.

"Even at your tender age, you are gorgeous." When the impact caused her fair hair to tumble into a stubborn spiral on her face, he reached out to touch it. "So lovely and already fascinating, But first, let's handle the primary issue: If you tell even one soul what you witnessed, I will mistreat you in ways you can never imagine; ways your innocence will never be exposed to." He licked his chapped lips and stroked her cheek that was smeared with tears.

His eyes were oozing with hubris and desperate desire; he bit the tip of his tongue as he let out a chortle, “Absolutely stunning.”

He freed her. As she inhaled, the cold raked her fingertips, and her lungs burned all the way to her throat.

“Leave, before I change my mind.” From neck down, he was scrutinizing her. She despised the way he flicked his tongue across his lips as he did so.

In an attempt to flee without stumbling over her face, Afiyah tucked the strand of hair behind her ear and took unsteady steps.

He howled at her, causing her to let out a shriek and bolt.

On that precise day, Afiyah cut the thick strand of her hair that was toyed by those filthy hands.