Out Of The Labyrinth-Chapter 2

Posted: July 14, 2015 in Blog Posts, Out Of The Labyrinth
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I heard the same ear-piercing scream again. The same darkness surrounded me. With my heart beating twice as fast as usual, I turned around the corner of the street. I saw a huddle surrounding the object of torture. I was shivering with fear but somehow gathered the courage to move forward. Boys and girls, roughly around the age of 17, were gathered around it. A tall boy was standing in front of me. Even in this darkness I could see that his hair was the darkest shade of black. His head was the only thing I could see. I tapped on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking my view.”

“I am the view,” he said after he turned around.

In the moonlight I could see his eyes gleaming, big brown eyes. I would have thought he was handsome if it wasn’t for the smirk he was wearing.

“What is happening over there?” I asked

“Some guy getting his ass kicked by some other guy, I suppose,” he said seening completely unfazed as if it was the most normal thing ever.

“And you’re just gonna stand here and watch?” I asked again, this time a with a look of disgust.

“If that means I won’t get punched in a fight I have no part in then yes.” He replied, that smirk still there.

“Someone is getting tortured and you’re just standing here and enjoying the show? Just get out of the way.” I frowned.

“Tortured?” He let out a small laugh and moved to the side. I walked past him to get a better look of what was happening and saw a boy on the top on another, punching the living daylights out him.
The one getting beaten clearly didn’t wish to defend himself.

“Hey, leave him alone!” I screamed and ran towards them.

The bad-ass guy, as I named him in my head, looked at me as if he would like nothing better than to see me dead.

“You trying to stop me, princess?” was all I heard and before I knew it he got up and punched the living daylights, this time out of me.
Everything became blurry as I took an almost lethal blow to my stomach. A thunk was heard when I fell on the ground and everything became silent as I shut my eyes.I felt something wet touching me. I opened my eyes and there it was. Patches, my cat licking my toe. I sat on bed and noticed one thing. I was drenched in sweat. Was it really a dream? It felt so real.

“Ouch” I exclaimed with pain. My stomach. I pulled up my shirt to examine it and to my horror a bluish black mark was there, exactly where the bad-ass guy had hit.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“Amal, keep you voice low. Are you out of your mind? Get your arse up and get ready for school or you’ll be late,” I heard my mom say.

I was about to jump out of my bed and go down and tell her about what had just happened but her tone made me feel like the bruise was going to be the least of my worries if I didn’t get ready for school on time. I changed into my uniform as fast as I could. Washing my face, I looked up into the mirror. Exhausted big black eyes stared back at me. Shaking my head, I combed my hair, picked up my bag and got out of my room. Taking two steps at a time I reached the bottom of the staircase.

Dad: Off to work as usual.
Adan and Hassan: Fighting over a toy that came out of a cereal box. Mom: Packing their lunch bags.

“Hassan, give that toy to Adan. You had one last time,” Mom said in a hurried voice.

Hassan, frowning, handed the toy to Adan, who mock-smiled at him. These two.

“Mom,” I said, reaching her. “Can we talk?”

“Right now? In the car maybe, on your way to school, okay? Now eat your breakfast.”

“Not in the car, mom. Not in front of them.” I pointed at my siblings.

“Not right now, either. On your way back then. We’re alone in the car at that time. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” I said, even though I was already feeling nauseous with the anticipation of telling her.

Barely eating anything off my breakfast plate, I got out of the house and sat in the car. We got stuck in traffic on our way to school. I could tell it was a not a lucky day for me. My thoughts kept rushing back to that vicious dream and the bruise which I had gotten. I knew that something was not okay. We never hope for anything fantastic or wonderful, we just want everything to be okay. Because most of the times, okay is enough. I wanted that too.

I finally reached school. As I was late, I didn’t get to see my friends in the corridor and perform our daily ritual. The group hug. The first class had started. It was the English class. The teacher gave me an ice-cold stare as I entered the class.

I tried turning back to normal but failed miserably. I had to tell someone about it because sometimes keeping it to yourself is more dangerous than letting it out. It was killing me. I was sitting next to my best friend Izza.

“What is wrong with you? You look so weary today.” she asked.

“Oh nothing! I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” I replied.

“If you still haven’t figured out that you can’t lie to me, then I must say you’re an idiot,” she said in an obnoxious tone.

“Miss Amal that’s enough for today. First you come late to the class and then you create a chaos in the whole classroom,” the teacher finally let out her anger.

Before I could say anything, the bell rang. Izza gave me the what-the-hell look. We could communicate just with our eyes, which was pretty awesome.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything in the recess,” I wore a fake smile which I knew I could hardly ever pull off.

She said “Okay” with a genuine smile. After a few boring lectures, it was finally time for recess. I kept thinking about how should I tell her everything when it all sounded somehow irrelevant even to myself. I started,

“Have you ever had a continued dream? Like a series of dreams?”

“Um I have no idea what you’re talking about, Amal. But go ahead, enlighten me.”

I told her everything from the start till the point at which I fainted and the bruise, which was real. She was looking at me wide eyed. Decisively, she said,

“Well there could be two possibilities. Either that guy in your dream hit you so hard that you clenched it yourself subsequently. Or someone is manipulating your dreams, the odds of which are 1 out of 100.”

“I think you’re right,” I said in a calm tone.

“See? There’s no need to worry about it. It’s just a bad dream.” she tried to cheer me up.

“And if that doesn’t help. You could look it up on the internet” she suggested.

“Yeah. I hadn’t thought about that,” I said.

The school day finally ended. I was too tired to feel anything. I just felt numb with exhaustion.

“What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” Mom asked on our way back home. I felt okay now, after telling Izza. So I decided not to tell her and in my most laid back tone I said,

“Um it was nothing… nothing special.”

“Are you sure?” She eyed me with concern. I reassured her of it.

Rest of the day was normal routine. I did my homework, unwillingly. Read for an hour. Haania called up on me like she did everyday. She told me about a cat-fight at her school and we both had a good laugh. I told her I had some stuff to catch up on and went in earlier than I normally did. I’d just remembered I had to do some research on “dreams”. There were many unfamiliar terms. Lucid dreaming. Sleep paralysis. Astral projection.

I texted Izza and told her about what I’d found out. Astral projection: an interpretation of out-of-body experience that assumed the existence of an “astral body” separate from the physical body and capable of travelling outside it.

She said “Oh. Are we talking about supernatural here? I don’t think it’s as thrilling as you think it is. It’s not a big deal, really”.

We agreed on it. Mom came to check on me. It was 10:38 PM. A little past my bedtime. I went to sleep. I didn’t want to dream again but if I did I decided to punch the bad-ass guy hard enough that he’d wake up with a bruise for a week. I opened my eyes, only to find out I was getting stared at by the same crowd.

Saja Ali and Zoha Hidayat For Beyond Sanity Publishing

Read the story here: Wattpad Link

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