Okay so this is my entry for the ‘Step into your dream world’ contest. It’s basically a concept that comes from book ‘The Kite Runner’ about a little Pashtun boy named Amir and a Hazara boy one year his junior, named Hassan. This book was a tragedy so I decided to create a character to step in a see what happens
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Panic and nausea swept through me like an unwanted disease, slowing my already sore limbs while speeding up my frantic heart. The rock in my hand was covered in the sweat from the palm of my hand, tears staining my cheeks as I stared down at the boys below. They were about to hurt that Hazara boy as they had harmed me many a times. They would beat him up, make him bloody and sore, and then watch as he stumbled away, humiliated to his family where he would serve higher-ups no matter his pain. His misery.
I wanted to throw the rock. In fact, I had every intention to do so, but the fear was becoming rampant now. The thought of Assef and his cronies coming after me was not one that I found any sort of resolve in. Either the Hazara… or me.
My eyes jetted from the scene below to the small Pashtun boy who cowered behind an old battered up machine. He looked absolutely horrified, his eyes stinging with tears as he bit down on his fist till it bled. His body was shaking all over. A sign that he himself had bad memories because of that terrible boy.
Assef was muttering something inconspicuously to the other boys who soon made there move on the smaller Hazara, tackling him down to the ground before they started beating him up.
I was such a coward, sitting here with this rock in my hand and yet not throwing it. Not attempting to save that little boy from the pain they were inducing upon him. They looked so merciless, so empty. The worst part of all though was that they boy did not struggle. He just took every punch, every beating with the same dead expression as if he could no longer feel anything, the blue kite lying on the ground behind him.
That’s when something happened that even I wished I hadn’t seen. Something I wish could have passed me by without my understanding. Assef unbuckled the belt of his pants.
I cringed, knowing just what Assef had in mind and with that I acted on impulse.
I couldn’t tell you how it happened, or why I did so for some Hazara boy I didn’t know. All I could really tell you was that I couldn’t just sit and watch. Couldn’t just forget what was happening and let it go on without trying. It was more over instinct then anything else, not saying I really knew exactly what I was doing, but when the rock flung out of my hand, I knew something terrible was going to happen.
It struck that back of Assef’s head, surprisingly accurate for my feeble hands. I was not a very strong boy, and in that I usually stayed away from such things as sports that included hand-eye coordination. This though was the first time I had ever any sort of ability at all. In later years I would come to realize that what had conspired was called ‘and adrenaline rush’.
Assef fell to the ground from shock, his eyes wide in fear and surprise. The boy who was now just being pinned down looked up bewildered, his dark brown eyes filled with wonderment and fear. I had never been so reckless and now I knew for sure that I was in trouble.
The blonde boy picked himself off of the ground, fingers retrieving the thrown rock as his free hand massaged the back of his head where the rock had struck. I was happy and yet sickeningly sad that the rock did not cause bleeding but did not linger on such a thought for more then a few seconds as I was bolting across the roof now. There was no time to consider what had just conspired nor was there any reason. I had done what I could to help the situation, and if I was not careful now, I would soon be in the same place as the Hazara boy.
I heard yells coming from below but ignored them as I climbed down the stairs as quick as my feet could take me, breath hitching as I went. I was almost to the street below. Just a few more steps was all it took…
And as quick as it started, it ended. I knew I was not as agile as Assef nor his cronies, but to be cornered so helplessly, mere steps away from the end of the staircase , was maddening. Assef was staring at me, that treacherous face of his. Eyes that neither belonged to an Afghani nor a German. No, they were the eyes of a killer even if he had no intention of killing just yet.
“Another Hazara playing the hero.” He chuckled, turning back towards his followers. “Stupid, insolent Hazaras.”
“I-I…” I stepped back. The frigid air bit at my ears and neck fiercely as I turned to run up the stairs knowing perfectly well that I would not be able to outrun them. I was trapped.
“There is no use in running, Hazara!” The mocking laughter was more unnerving than anything else. I was about to turn back and take whatever punishment they saw fit, to just turn my head and accept my fate, but when I thought all was lost the sound of an unknown voice caught my attention.
“Leave him alone!” I turned my head just in time to see the Hazara boy from before standing with a slingshot in hand. His face bore the expression of anger, his body emanating it as he stared blankly at Assef. The Pashtun boy was there too, standing behind the Hazara’s right shoulder with the look of someone who had committed the greatest sin. He was cradling his fist in his one hand, teeth biting at his lip, the blue kite, in which was swinging over his shoulder, contrasting heavily with his darkened skin.
“Ah the Hazara is back for more,” Assef eyed him with a malevolent tone, but there was worry in his eyes now.
“I will fire,” The Hazara said, pulling back on the sling-shot as he readied the small stone. “Leave.”
“Don’t think this is over, Hazara,” Assef murmured. “This is far from over.”
The Hazara said nothing to that but remained calm, sling-shot in place as he watched Assef stroll away, hands in his pockets as he went.
I looked at the two boys then down at my own hands before tears sprang to my eyes once more. I wasn’t hurt after all…
“Thank you!” I ran down the stairs easily, hand outstretched. “Thank you so much! I thought they would beat me up for sure this time.”
“It is alright,” The Hazara smiled. I noticed a small scar along his lip which had surprised me somewhat but I refrained from saying anything about it. “This is Amir-jan.”
He stepped to the side, introducing the Pashtun before even himself. A loyalty there in which was clearly evident.
“And I am Hassan.” He shook my hand eagerly. “I thank you for throwing that rock. If you had not… I reckon I would be in a lot of trouble right now.”
“It was no problem,” I said with vigour. “My name is Kasheem.”
I outstretched my hand in the direction of the boy whose name was Amir but he did not take it. He just looked at me with the same fear and shock that he had plastered across his face through the entire incident. Suddenly he grasped Hassan’s shoulder, tears falling listlessly from his eyes.
“I’m sorry Hassan.”
He tilted his head, ashamed as the tears splattered against the snowy street. The kite swung back and forth as he sobbed, free hand balled into a fist.
“It’s alright, Amir-jan.” Hassan did not seem angry, nor did he show any sort of hatred towards the boy who had hid and done nothing. He just smiled and placed his own hand on Amir’s shoulder. “Let’s go home, Amir-jan.”
Amir nodded and they both started to walk away, Hassan’s hand still secured on the boy’s shoulder. I was more then surprised to see such a friendship between two people who were not supposed to be that close. A Pashtun and a Hazara. How strange indeed it turned out to be. I was happy though. I had helped even if it was just a rock being thrown.
“By the way!” Hassan turned his head once more, eyes bright. “You’re brave, you know that?”
They then walked away without another word.
Brave… a word I would never use towards myself and one that I had never been called till that day. Even though I did not believe the words he said, it felt nice to hear it. Nice to think that someone thought of me more then just a weakling. I may not be the bravest fellow, but I knew one thing for sure. I was not a coward.
The End.
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From Dreams to Reality
~The.Dreamwalker
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