Jala's POV
Memories became words and words became mazes we could lose ourselves in.
"Why are we doing this, Ali?"
"Because we have to try."
"For what?"
"Redemption. Achievement. Adventure. Something, anything that will save us further regret."
I could imagine him being a little boy of five or six sitting on a foot lane, waiting for passer bys, offering them to clean their shoes for a penny. The memories were a little hazy as they were so long ago and so much had changed since then, but he knew that he had been born an orphan or at least been told that way. That didn't remain the case for too long as he had come across a saviour, a guardian angel except the angel sinned like the devil.
"I couldn't judge him, because I agreed with him. This was how the world deserved to be treated. To be ruled with fear and power, because when did the Good Samaritan ever get treated nicely?"
You could not be wise until you had knowledge, and knowledge came at a price. "Until the night I got the dream for the first time. I mistook it for a general one and tried to forget about it. But then they became frequent, I could almost see them with open eyes. My hand faltered when I held a gun. They trembled when I slit the throats of my victims; their eyes haunted me at night. I couldn't take it anymore and left without any goodbye, except for a note intended for my godfather. Of course, he wouldn't leave me without any form of surveillance, that's why you see Deli Demir standing on the porch."
His eyes were red as he spoke and wiped any tear that threatened to fall. Despite his glum mood, talking about Demir chacha brought a smile to his face. I could see that he meant a lot to him.
"Well the past is in the pa- 'my sentence was cut short by a bang that seemed to be coming from the roof.
A glass shatters.
A tear falls.
Somehow I know they've found me.
I feel fear gripping my senses but more than that I feel guilt.
"Who else did you tell about our location?" I feel the air get knocked out of me, as Ali Pushes me against the wall.
"What?!"
"Who did you tell?" he screams in my face.
"No one!" I yell back. "And it would have been prudent if you had kept tabs on my family as you kept on me. My brothers have their connections to use when they can. And using them to find their sister who ran away would seem like a pretty good time to them. They aren't much but-"
"I know what they are," he said, pulling out a gun from the drawer. "Typical, street amateurs."
He pulls the trigger and makes way for the stairs. I can't let him kill them or be killed at the hands of my brothers and their goons, and fight my battles for me so I hurry behind him. Men who look more like boys, held guns as they leaped over the terrace walls and pointed them at us once they got settled on their feet. Ali's was shoved in his pocket, as he held his hands up in surrender. Like I didn't know any better.
I felt another pang of guilt as my elder most brother Umar, and Hasan the one older than me made their way on the roof. Their men were pointing their guns at us but wouldn't shoot without their leader's command. I didn't feel good at ruining their reputation like that but I could either run away, or a lifelong prison at the hands of a drunken bastard.
"So this is who you ran away for," Hasan said holding his gun over his shoulder, letting his gaze wander over Ali, measuring him from up and down, and looked over at Umar as if for affirmation. "He's a pretty one; I'll give you that sister. Might even feel a little bad at blowing his brains out." He pulled the trigger at his face before I intervened but Ali seemed unfazed by death a couple of inches away from him, and that too, quite literally.
"It's not like that Hasan-" he shifted the gun's position so that the barrel was at his forefront, and raised it at me. "Stay quiet!" I jumped as he shouted at me. I know he won't stop at anything to hurt me or anything that formed part of my existence. Our conversation was cut off by a whirring of rotors, as the wind harshly swept at our faces and clothes. A helicopter hovered over the roof as men climbed out of it and made their way towards us.
"About freaking time," Ali exclaimed from behind me. I thought these were my brother's goons.
"Look boys," a man around Ali's age said, his slightly amused gaze wandering lazily over the scene before him, holding a gun under his arm. "Looks like we arrived just in time for the party." The rest of the men came and hugged Ali, looking as if they were here for a reunion.
"Do you have no shame?" Hassan my younger brother made his way towards me. "Did you feel an ounce of remorse when you ruined our reputation because of this man?" He shoved his finger in Ali's direction.
"It is not how it seems, Hassan," I began, weakly. "Let me explain-"
"Explain what?" He shouted in my face grabbing me by the arms. "How you left us at the mercy of Saith when you knew how much we owed him? How Baba almost died of the shock you gave him, at this age? How you left a never-ending question on Safa's character and mother's upbringing, one that they'll have to face at every step of her life? You ruined everything Jala!"
"Well, at least my absence did something my presence never could!" I finally shouted back through streaming tears. "Reminded you that I wasn't just a waste of air and space but a living person with a heart that feels and a brain that thinks!"
"No Jala, you are worse. You are not the sister I grew up with and mama brought up," He said his voice lowering to a lower level, as he spoke through tears of his own. Each word was like a stroke of blade on my heart, only a thousand times worse. We both knew I was nothing but a burden on the household, so why make it harder than it already is?"You are a curse upon each person in your life. A bad omen for all those who acquaint themselves with you." He said glancing at Ali.
"Being a curse or a blessing depends on who you are acquainting yourself with," Ali tells him, moving forward and standing his ground.
If it weren't for the armed men surrounding us right now, they would have lodged their bullets inside me by now, I'm sure of it.
"Enough," Umar my elder brother, said his voice low but authoritative. It was easy to tell who was the boss between the two, despite his eerily calm composure. That's what him more dangerous than Hassan. Only someone close to him could realize his rising temper through the fire that burned bright in his eyes. Someone like me. He was my favorite brother during childhood, where I preferred him over Hasan, because of his temparement before I learned the truth. "This is not how you bid your last farewell to your sister, Hasan."
The ground seemed to have slipped from beneath my feet, as I felt the air rush out of my lungs. "Brother," I gushed, as he came closer to me. I flinched as he raised his hand, only to caress my cheek and wipe away my tears. I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding, and looked, really looked at my brother, after what seemed like ages. So much had changed since we grew up, the distance between us only growing longer with each passing year. The urge of power and status fuelled them and I became nothing but a symbol to which their reputation in society, was tethered to. My dreams and opinions were ridiculous to them. I was good as invisible to them and my parents, where they only paid attention when I stepped out of line. This time, I hadn't stepped over the line. I erased it all away.
"You grew up too fast, Jala," He said through tears, but smiling nonetheless. "I wasn't planning on saying goodbye, this soon." The good times we had together, came in flashbacks as I stared into the blue eyes of my brother, that were so much like my father. Out of us four siblings, he was the one who resembled father the most. I never had an intimate moment with my father, and this was the closest I could get.
"Me too, brother. I know you came here to either take me away or kill me, but I can't come back. If it means so much to you then kill me, because I can't live without the answers to questions I don't even know the meaning of."
"Are they important enough for you to leave all if us behind?"
"They never were to you," I said bitterly, but matched his rueful smile. I know this wasn't the time for regrets or grudges, but I couldn't help it. My conscience wasn't strong enough to battle the poison they had filled in me for years.
"It's like Safa says, isn't it?," he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I lean into his touch. "For the greater good." I am taken aback by this revelation. Does Safa have the dream, too? My questions quickly dissipate in my mind as he pulls me into an embrace, holding me close for the first and last time, for years that have passed and years to come by. The moment felt like it passed to quickly, but in my mind it had been embedded for infinity.
"We need to get going," He says pulling back and wiping away his tears. "Take care of yourself, dear sister." He pats my head and turns toward his men.
It is clear that Hassan disagrees with this decision, but won't say anything to Umar because he knows it is his verdict that counts.
"Give my greetings to Khan," Umar tells Ali.
"How do you know him?" Ali asks him after a moment.
"We work as part of his clan, in the region. His favors upon us are too high."
"Why are you telling him? He doesn't deserve to know about Zulfiqar Khan." Hassan tells Umar with a a degrading look towards Ali.
Umar smirks and replies: "He is the only one who deserves to know."
So, that's why they let me go. Because I was under Khan's protection.