Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Natalya

"Madre, did you put these socks in my bag?" Natalya brought out a long blue piece of socks from her bag that looked like they were from the 1970's.

"Que? Mi amor, I thought you liked them." Natalya's mom came out of the kitchen holding a wooden ladle.

"No Madre. No me gusta. They're hideous. And when I wear them, I look like that maid from your favourite T.V. show. What's it called? Si! 'Maria es mi vida'. Seriously Mom," Natalya pouted her face.

"Fine. Vale. Don't take it to the camp. Pero, recuerdo, when you come back from the camp, I will buy you a new one. And you won't complain about that one too. Vale?"

"Mamaaa". Nat stomped her feet on the ground and pouted her face again.

"Vale?" Her mother asked again. Spanish moms could be so tough you just don't wanna mess with them.

"OK. Vale Madre."

"Bueno mi amor. Te amo mucho. Finish packing quick. I'm almost done in the kitchen." Nat's mom kissed her on the cheek and forehead before going back to the kitchen.

"Phew. Thank God I'm not taking you with me anymore." Nat giggled as she shoved the socks into a pile of ironed clothes in her closet with the aim of throwing them in the dustbin as soon as her mom left the kitchen. Closing the windows, she looked at her room one last time.

*****

Ibraheem

"Anne, you know I can survive one month without Pasta (cake) right?" Ibraheem whined as his mother stuffed a large black bag full of Turkish cake in his bag.

"Actually, I don't Babayim. You have been eating this since you were small. You can't stop now. It's our traditional food. Ok? I don't want to hear any of that again!" With that, she left to bring in more food. He was named after her beloved father, and she adored him just as much. Sometimes, she thought she saw her father in him. They were so much alike.

"Anne. But can you put some more chicken soup? I prefer it."

She brought back a small black nylon bag, "Tabii ki, my son. And don't forget to pray. I'm very scared. I don't know why. I have written some more prayers for you, my dear. I will give them to you when I finish this. God be with you. Allah hafiz."

"Thank you so much Anne. You are the best! Don't worry. Nothing will happen to me, InshaAllah. I will keep praying."

"Oh and please try to call me as soon as you get there."

"Mommmm! I can't. We are not supposed to call except if it's urgent. Besides, there isn't signal except on rare occasions. And I heard it's only on a hill or something like that."

"What kind of camping is that? Ya Allah help us. But don't forget to pray very well." She smiled, "go and finish packing then."

"Ok Anne!" Ibraheem ran up the stairs.

***********

It was dark. Very dark. A sound was coming closer to her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make out the faint shadow of someone moving slowly. Towards her. Her whole body convulsed with fear. Her eyes shifted to the persons' hand. He was holding a long axe like thing, dragging it slowly, torturing her. The sound like made, connecting with the floor was nerve wrecking. She wanted this to be over. She closed her eyes tightly, clenching her teeth. She was cooped up in a small hole, but she was sure he had seen her. The sweat that had formed were slowly trickling down her back, itching. She couldn't even scream, she knew it would be of no use. He was right in front of her, kneeling down. She raised her face a little. The man was smiling revealing a set of yellow stained teeth, his horrifying face, with one eye and a large scar on his left cheek left her frozen in place. He raised the large axe. That was when she smelt an awful smell, assaulting her nose. A dark color smearing the axe, dripping – blood. Tears spilled uncontrollably as he raised it high above his head, and brought it down on her with a swift movement.

Jameela awoke with a start, her entire body trembling. Her bed was soaked with sweat. Her mind took a few seconds before registering what had happened. Her eyes adjusting to the sun piercing through the glass of her half closed window. Letting out a deep breath of relief, she muttered "Ya Allah, thank you." It was only a dream. It had been a while since she had a nightmare like this though. Why now? She sighed. She would not let this get in the way of her happiness today. This day was supposed to be perfect. Her eyes flew to the small pink clock on the top of her side drawer. The time was 6:29 in the morning. She didn't get up immediately. Instead she stayed in her position and breathed slowly before running the shower. That was her everyday routine since she read from a health blog that it was dangerous to wake up quickly as it could be the cause of a heart attack or in other cases, a stroke.

She quickly showered and brushed her teeth, then stood before her wardrobe contemplating what to wear. Her wardrobe was full of clothes, but anytime she was going to wear something, she couldn’t decide. As if she had no clothes. At last, she settled on a light blue dress that reached just past her knees and a black trouser. She then combed her relaxed hair in a small bun and draped a small black veil over it. Closing her windows, she took her bags downstairs.

"Salamu Alaikum Dad. Ina kwana?" She greeted in his language, Hausa. He was sitted on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the Daily Times Newspaper. Her dad was from the ancient city of Kurfi, which was in Katsina state. They travelled there on holidays and during weddings or celebrations such as Eid ul Fitr. While her Mom was from Lebanon with Palestinian descent. Jameela was really proud of her ethnicity. When she entered high school, her mom suggested she put her maternal surname among her names if she so wished. She had heard about some countries doing that so she appreciated the idea, and registered her name – Jameela Ismail Farook. Since they were kids, they had learnt English, Arabic and Hausa.

"Amin Alaikumussalam Jameela. Lafiya lau. Ina kwana? Are you ready?" He smiled.

"Lafiya lau. Yes Dad. I’m so ready," she replied.

"Good. Go and eat. Then I will give you some money in case you need to buy something on your trip."

"Thank you very much Dad!" She kissed him on the cheek and ran off to the kitchen.

"Salamu Alaikum. Mama, Dada good morning." She sat on a chair and began piling pancakes on her plate. Mama and Dada were already in the kitchen. Dada had just finished eating.

"Amin Alaikis Salam. Morning dear. Are you ready?"

"Yes Mom."

"My girl is going camping!" Dada laughed.

She made a face. "Come on, Dada. Not again."

"Ok, ok." Dada had been making fun of her since she knew of the trip.

"Eat quickly. The bus must be here soon." Mom turned to go, but immediately stopped as if she remembered something as Dada singsonged her way out of the kitchen.

"Jameela, I had a very horrible dream yesterday."

As soon as she said those words, she felt like disappearing. She sort of had guessed what she wanted to say. She felt a lump form at the back of her throat as she forced down her food. What was going on? From Sarah's revelation last night, to her own dream, and now moms'?

"Huh? A bad dream?" Her own voice sounded strange to her ears.

Mom sat down on the empty chair next to hers and put the kitchen towels on the dining table. Her face looked solemn. "Oh honey, it was terrible. In my dream you were at this weird place that looked devilish, full of red and black curtains, with dried up skulls at the side. Just like a ritual place. You know, the ones we see in the movies? Uh-huh, just like it. You seemed terrified, and you were alone. Then you called out for me. And I could hear my voice saying sweetie where are you? But I wasn't there. You were crying. And then I said something like I shouldn't have let you. That was when I woke up."

Jameela gasped, "Shouldn't have let me what? Mom that was a really bad dream."

"That's what I can't understand too. I told your father, and he said that we should keep praying. It was just a nightmare. InshaAllah nothing bad will happen. But I still have this bad feeling. I don't know, dear."

She swung her hands up in the air. Jameela felt really bad seeing how frustrated she looks and obvious feels. She wanted to tell her about what Sara told them last night, but she knew that as soon as she said it, the trip would be cancelled. At least for her, it sure would. And If it was really dangerous, then it should be cancelled not only for her, but for everyone too. But what if she was just overreacting? What if she was just making a mountain out of a mole hill?

She reached for her mother's hand in an attempt to console her. "Mom don't worry. We will all be alright InshaAllah. Just as Dad said, we need to keep on praying and nothing bad will happen. It was just a dream."

"Hmm. You're right sweetie. It's going to be okay. I guess I may have put my mind in your trip, maybe that's why." She let out a short laugh.

"Mom! I'm going to be fine. I'm not the only one going there remember? There are lots of other people too. Students and our teachers too. Don't worry. Besides, as soon as we see anything weird or out of the ordinary, we would immediately call home, hop on the bus and come back."

"My love, you have grown up so much. I remember when you were a baby. So little and precious."

"Mommmm!"

"Haha. Eat your food so you won't be late."

After eating her pancakes, she washed it up with a mango juice. The bus arrived soon afterwards, a few students already in. As she said her goodbyes to her family and Sunny, she felt truly excited. This was it.