For four days she sat there, rocking herself back and forth. Her eyes unmoving—staring at the almost dilapidated house across the street; hidden behind the painted windows, where a fierce yellow light shone through its scratched surface. Mishna, her cousin, was stoned to death for being discovered pregnant nine days before.
At first she saw it with contempt. In fact even hating her, how could she give it away? But her cousin Abdul Mueed began to set his eyes on her, and she is afraid. Aalia doesn’t hear the growls of her stomach nor does she notice the weakening of her limbs. She rocked herself faster, hoping— for deliverance.
Her cousin, Mueed, arrives today.
“How long will she last, my sister?” Apemosyne said to the young woman covered in burqa.
“Not long… did you bring the eyes?” Parthenophe replied.
“Yes, but we your sisters—we miss you. Ever since our husband died some of us has grown weary of life. You were his favorite—and it is not without a good reason.” She handed her a dark pouch wrapped with silver chains.
“Hush, my dear sister. For millennia’s I have tarried with thee. And now that He is d—” she stopped herself. “--Gone, my freedom is much needed.” Parthenophe said, turning to her sister, her eyes revealed a thousand mingling of crystalline colors, like the reflection of the sun in a flowing river.
“But this girl? Parthenophe, she is nothing to you.” Apemosyne said.
“How could you say that my dear sister? You who have been kicked to death by thy own brother? The Gods have left this world in ruin, and now I, being given to be one will not stay and let it all perish. Even the God of Palestine has forsaken this land.”
Apemosyne stared in her sister’s eyes, seeing the firmness of it, finally surrendered. “That’s why you have always been his favorite.” She kissed Parthenophe on her forehead and she was gone.
Aalia struggled to remember her prayers. Mueed stood behind her, stroking her shoulders. Her knees trembled, and the sweat of her neck ran down her bosom. “You look weak Aalia,” he whispered.
Suddenly the cattle and the sheep made noise, too much for Mueed to ignore. He cursed and went outside.
“Great Allah,” Aalia whimpered.
“You need a new God.” A young girl, wrapped in burqa, with strange crystalline eyes, said through the window.
“I do not deal with the devil.” She said.
“I am not the devil, I merely offer justice.” The wondrous creature said.
“Then if my soul is not at stake, please help me then, oh kind One.”
Parthenophe smiled. “Then I may need something in return.”
Aalia’s vision now reduced to darkness. But her heart swelled—not with joy—but with something much sweeter. She stroked her cousin’s now cold marble skin. “Nothing’s going to hurt me now,” she told her newly made friends as the snakes hissed and swirled upon her head.
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