Al Nadaha

AMINA

Listening from behind the door, I wondered if I was dreaming. I pinched the skin of my arm to prove to myself that it was all true.

That the man I loved all my life was sitting with my father and asking for my hand in marriage at that very moment. I smiled when a little pain tingled my skin.

We were neighbors, our parents were close, and we used to spend most of our time together when we were children. We always played in the streets and in the hearts of the green fields.

I could remember the first time I felt the spark that made me realize he was the one.

I could stay still for hours and listen to him as he was told me about all the books he read and his dreams of going to university and of becoming a doctor.

He gave me his word once. He promised me that he would ask for my hand in marriage the same day he graduated from medical school.

Then we would go together to the capital, Cairo, where he would take me to see the pyramids as I’d always dreamed. We would live happily together and raise our children in a decent environment.

And he had proved to be a man of his word.

My mother came out of the room abruptly and gave me a disapproving look for eavesdropping. Feeling a little guilty, I lowered my head.

My mother let out a soft chuckle. She always knew I had feelings for Hussein, but she had trust and faith in both of us.

“So, I guess you already know what we were talking about in there,” she spoke up, a meaningful smile decorating her face.

I felt my cheeks burning, and I nodded slowly, still not daring to look at my mother in the eye.

My mother smiled softly and asked, “So, what do you think?”

I finally looked up to meet my mother’s chocolate-brown eyes that resembled my own so much. I wanted to scream yes, but no words came out of my mouth.

There was only a sheepish smile that held dozens of words behind it.

There was a renowned Egyptian proverb that said, “Silence is a sign of approval.”

My mother wiped the few tear droplets that were starting to gather in her eyes and took me in her arms.

I knew she was having a hard time believing that her daughter had grown up so much and was soon to be married.

After we broke the hug, my mother went back inside the room to deliver the good news and to tell them that the bride-to-be had said her word.

Later that night, Hussein and I sat together by the Nile. Neither of us dared to look at the other.

Stealing a glance, I found out that Hussein’s beautiful, emerald-green eyes were fixed on me, a dazzling smile on his face.

The soft breeze of air was tackling a strand of my black hair that had sneaked out of my headscarf. I fixed my headscarf and turned my eyes away from him, feeling my cheeks burn with redness.

“Amina?” he called.

“Hmm?” I looked at him again, still unable to hide the smile that was drawn on my lips. However, this time, the smile was gone from his face. His green eyes were darker and had a somber look in them.

He let out a long sigh and ran his fingers through his soft brown hair. “I need to tell you something.” He focused his gaze on the ground, his hands clasped together tightly.

“I—I have to join the army starting next week. I received the official documentation a few weeks ago. The country is at war, and they need more soldiers—as well as doctors. It’s mandatory.”

My eyes were wide, and tears were starting to sting in them. “N-no, you can’t. You gave me a promise. We were going to Cairo, and we were going to settle there.

“We were going to have kids and live in peace.” I shook my head in disbelief.

He turned and took my trembling hands in his. “Yes, and I am going to keep that promise.” He locked eyes with me.

“I’m going to come back to you, and we are going to have that life we always dreamed of,” he promised softly, trying to assure me. But in fact, I knew he was trying to assure himself more.

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t help but think about all the horrors of war.

Our village had already lost too many men to it, and my mind couldn’t take the possibility that the next fallen soldier might be Hussein.

I hated war. I hated those people who came to our land, willing to put their hands on it. I hated the blood that was being shed, the blood of the soldiers and the blood of the innocents.

I wanted peace, but with each passing day, I knew that dream was too far from being real. The country was at grave risk, and everybody had to fight for its sake—for our freedom.

But I couldn’t handle the idea of losing Hussein. I just couldn’t.

I forced out a smile toward my fiancé. I knew he was already handling too many burdens, and I couldn’t add another one to the list. “You will come back.” I squeezed his hand. “I know you will.”

“I love you, Amina.”

I bit the inside of my mouth, pushing away the tears that were threatening to fall down. “I love you too.”

He smiled, and we kept looking at each other for a while without uttering a word. Finally, he broke eye contact and looked around us. “It’s starting to get cold. Come on, let me take you home.”

Nodding my head slowly, I rose to my feet. He joined me, and we walked alongside each other in silence. Neither of us could find the right words to say.

After a few minutes of walking, Hussein came to a sudden stop, startling me. He looked around him in every direction as if he was looking for something.

“Hussein, what’s wrong?”

“D-did you call my name?” His tone was laced with obvious confusion.

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head, my eyebrows brought together as I studied him with concern.

He frowned his eyebrows. “That’s weird. I heard someone calling my name. A-a woman with a beautiful voice.”

“I didn’t call your name, and I didn’t hear anyone else calling your name,” I argued, starting to get slightly alarmed.

“But—” He was about to say something but paused and started looking all around him again like a madman. “It happened again. Come on, tell me you didn’t hear that. The voice can’t be any clearer!”

“I—I didn’t hear anything.” I started to look around.

My eyes wandered through the wide cornfield in front of me, but I couldn’t see anything but darkness, and a few things that were only identifiable because of the moonlight.

When I returned to look at Hussein, my heart dropped to my feet because he wasn’t there.

Panic and fear started to creep into me. I started calling his name, but he wasn’t answering back. I could only hear the sounds of frogs, owls, and crickets. It sounded more like a symphony of doom.

Lots of questions dominated my train of thought. Where could he have gone? What was that voice he kept talking about before he disappeared? Could it be that creature the villagers were talking about?

The woman who called for men to kill them.

No, it couldn’t be possible, could it?

I never believed in supernatural creatures and the fables everyone believed in. There were a few incidents in the village, but I believed it was the making of a human being, not some creepy myth.

But I was scared, and I wanted to find Hussein as soon as possible.

I started looking for him everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, I decided to go back near the riverbank, and there he was, standing right on the edge of the water.

I was about to approach him, but something made me stop in my tracks. My stomach sank to my feet, and it felt as if the air was being pulled out of my lungs.

I could feel the presence of someone other than Hussein, yet he was the only one I could see. My whole body was trembling, and I knew that something was eerie.

Taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm down my now racing heart, I started walking toward Hussein with measured steps as if the ground beneath me was about to give out and crumble.

I finally reached him, but my heart almost stopped when I took a glance at him.

The color was drained from his face—he looked as white as a sheet of paper. He had wide eyes and was looking at something with a horrific look on his face.

His eyes looked so dark it was as if his light-colored irises had completely vanished. And the look on his face almost seemed like it didn’t belong to a human. It looked demonic.

I reached out for his hand but immediately backed off and took a step back once I touched him—he was as cold as ice. I felt as if I were touching a dead body.

But he was still alive in front of me, wasn’t he? I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as they were bounding faster than light.

Hussein turned and started walking with no valid destination. I didn’t dare to follow him. I stood still, frozen in time as my body refused to comply as it became totally incapacitated by fear.

I was living a nightmare that I didn’t know if I was going to wake up from or not.