No Longer His
Inspired by Kite Runner
He screams in pain that isn’t his own. Blood soaks through his arms but it is not his own. She lies, forever dead, at his feet. She is no longer his.
A wrinkled man walks along a desert land. His lips are cracked and dripping with blood. As he walks, the hot sun beats down on the rag that covers his head. He stumbles and falls to the ground. His face smashes against a desert colored rock and crimson sprays from his beaten face. He stammers as he tries to catch his breath. A single tear falls from the corner of his eye and drips to the ground. The old man raises his leathery hand to his nose and wipes the red liquid from it. As he does so, his eye catches a glint in the sand. He cautiously lowers his bloodied face to the ground and examines a small sphere. It has a creamy texture to it. The man, wise in his years, was well aware that is out of place object was a pearl. He clenches the pearl in his hand and returns to his travels.
She cries out. Silence fills the air.
He walks for days. If someone were to observe him, they would think he was directed aimlessly. But this man knew where he was headed. To the mountains. He continued his trek in a northerly direction. Again he drops to the ground. This time, he is unable to get up. Death is at his doorstep. He knows it is only a matter of time before he leaves this terrible but wonderful world.
He begins to contemplate his life, how he got here.
He walks for days. If someone were to observe him, they would think he was directed aimlessly. But this man knew where he was headed. To the mountains. He continued his trek in a northerly direction. Again he drops to the ground. This time, he is unable to get up. Death is at his doorstep. He knows it is only a matter of time before he leaves this terrible but wonderful world.
He begins to contemplate his life, how he got here.
It started with the pearls. He and his wife had been married for 40 years. And then the pearls came. All tears he wept turned to round small pearls. He saw this as a gift from Allah. Through his pain, both emotional and physical, came monetary stability.
He holds her in his arms and presses the knife into her soft wrinkled skin.
He holds her in his arms and presses the knife into her soft wrinkled skin.
Their whole marriage they had needed money. When the pearls first came was the day he lost his job. He returned home to tell his wife that soon they wouldn’t have any more money. They cried together. And pearls fell to their feet.
It was a blessing at first but now it is a curse.
The pearls were their salvation. Pain was now their happiness. And how much pain they felt. But slowly… It became harder and harder to cry. The more pain this man endured the less he was able to make the tears fall.
His wife was seeing how obsessed her husband had become. She repeatedly reminded him that they did not need the pearls. Come what may, Allah would provide. “but my wife, this is how Allah provides these pearls are from him.”
In time, he became so desperate that he stabbed himself. Gore gushed from his leg and pain seared up his spine. He fell and cried from the pain. Yet a single pearl fell to the ground. He screamed furiously. Standing up, he dropped the knife, tip down and watched it sink into the soft, wrinkled ground.
He left the measly pearl lying in the dirt and stormed to his house. He dragged his beloved wife from the kitchen, terror frozen on her face. It was a blessing at first, but now it is a curse. He holds he in his arms and presses the knife into her soft wrinkled skin. She cries out. Silence fills the air. He screams in pain that isn’t his own. Blood soaks through his arms, but it is not his own. She lies, forever dead, at his feet. She is no longer his.
In time, he became so desperate that he stabbed himself. Gore gushed from his leg and pain seared up his spine. He fell and cried from the pain. Yet a single pearl fell to the ground. He screamed furiously. Standing up, he dropped the knife, tip down and watched it sink into the soft, wrinkled ground.
He left the measly pearl lying in the dirt and stormed to his house. He dragged his beloved wife from the kitchen, terror frozen on her face. It was a blessing at first, but now it is a curse. He holds he in his arms and presses the knife into her soft wrinkled skin. She cries out. Silence fills the air. He screams in pain that isn’t his own. Blood soaks through his arms, but it is not his own. She lies, forever dead, at his feet. She is no longer his.
The tears never came. He left her forever and headed to the mountains.
A wrinkled man walks along a desert land. His lips are cracked and dripping with blood. As he walks, the hot sun beats down on the rag that covers his head. He stumbles and falls to the ground. His face smashes against a desert colored rock and crimson sprays from his beaten face. He stammers as he tries to catch his breath. A single tear falls from the corner of his eye and drips to the ground. The old man raises his leathery hand to his nose and wipes the red liquid from it. As he does so, his eye catches a glint in the sand. He cautiously lowers his bloodied face to the ground and examines a small sphere. It has a creamy looking texture to it. The man, wise in his years, was well aware that is out of place object was a pearl. He clenches the pearl in his hand and returns to his travels.
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