Chaos. I was running around like everyone else. Neighbours next door came up with the idea of making crucifix with anything they can get their hands on. We're Muslims. Would 'Allah' on a piece of board suffice? I grab my denims from the clothes hanger at the door, chose a scarf,and rushed to get dressed. Does it matter if my clothes match?
Ya'jud and Ma'jud were coming.
Omar and Abah came back with the news. The eleventh hour is up. They would be here any minute. Omar keep going on about how the insides of our car was scratched through, scratched from inside. My blood runs cold.I try to tell Omar that it's too late for a shower. Just get dressed and be ready. I grab a butter knife and a fork and shove it into my pockets, muttering praises to Allah, hoping, praying for protection. I was shaking with fear.
I have no idea what we were up against. None of us are, not even Mama. This is a part of the chain of events leading up to jugdment day, I know that. Are we going to live through it? Should we fight this coming evil with force or diplomacy? Physical strength or religious submission?
I look out the window to catch the shadow sweeping the entire earth. A man standing alone looks at his feet, confused.
They are here. Run.
Mama stands behind the door instead of going to hide in the room with me. She bravely tells me that she will face whatever is coming head-on. We both know it, neither of us said it. She was going to die and she's using herself as a shield for the rest of us. Good bye, Mama.
Mama, of all things, laughs at me. She tells me there's nothing to be afraid of, we don't even exactly know what we're up against. Might not even be as bad as it seems. From the way I'm shaking, I might as well be dead already. The house grows dark.I wanted so much to believe her. I look in the mirror and prayed hard that any minute, I'd wake up from this nightmare. But it's like praying for rain when you know, most definitely, there's no chance of rain whatsoever and you'll just have to weather the scorching sun no matter what.
This is real. It is no dream.
I watch the corridor for signs of their approach. They are here.
And I wake up, predictably, to the setting sun....
Alhamdulillah....
Ya'jud and Ma'jud were coming.
Omar and Abah came back with the news. The eleventh hour is up. They would be here any minute. Omar keep going on about how the insides of our car was scratched through, scratched from inside. My blood runs cold.I try to tell Omar that it's too late for a shower. Just get dressed and be ready. I grab a butter knife and a fork and shove it into my pockets, muttering praises to Allah, hoping, praying for protection. I was shaking with fear.
I have no idea what we were up against. None of us are, not even Mama. This is a part of the chain of events leading up to jugdment day, I know that. Are we going to live through it? Should we fight this coming evil with force or diplomacy? Physical strength or religious submission?
I look out the window to catch the shadow sweeping the entire earth. A man standing alone looks at his feet, confused.
They are here. Run.
Mama stands behind the door instead of going to hide in the room with me. She bravely tells me that she will face whatever is coming head-on. We both know it, neither of us said it. She was going to die and she's using herself as a shield for the rest of us. Good bye, Mama.
Mama, of all things, laughs at me. She tells me there's nothing to be afraid of, we don't even exactly know what we're up against. Might not even be as bad as it seems. From the way I'm shaking, I might as well be dead already. The house grows dark.I wanted so much to believe her. I look in the mirror and prayed hard that any minute, I'd wake up from this nightmare. But it's like praying for rain when you know, most definitely, there's no chance of rain whatsoever and you'll just have to weather the scorching sun no matter what.
This is real. It is no dream.
I watch the corridor for signs of their approach. They are here.
And I wake up, predictably, to the setting sun....
Alhamdulillah....
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