Zain awoke with his hair in a complete mess, as usual. His dad always joked that a tornado must have come through every night as he slept. Not only that, but he always woke up in odd positions, rotated or upside down or stiff and sprawled out. Today, his body had decided that it was going to dangle half off the side of the bed as he slept—just enough so that he didn’t actually fall off.
It took him a minute before he came to the realization that it was his birthday. Without even thinking about getting ready for the day, he let his nose drag him to the scent of the Belgian waffles coming from the kitchen. The signature birthday breakfast in the Qureishi household. His siblings were waiting to chow down by the time he made it to the cluttered kitchen, and Uncle Malek was snoozing on the couch. He'd stayed the night apparently.
"Happy Birthday!" everyone enthusiastically yelled at once.
Uncle Malek was shocked awake and chuckled at the sight of the children shouting.
“Happy birthday, Zain,” he muttered groggily. His eyelids were sagging and an unusual darkness engulfed the shadowed region under his eyes. “You three are the closest siblings I’ve ever seen.”
Zain thanked his sisters, hugged his uncle, then sat down on a black, leathery barstool, immediately munching down on the thick waffles.
“Where’s mom and dad?” he asked, halfway through an over-stuffed bite.
“They’re sleeping, Zain. Late night. They made sure your birthday breakfast was ready at three in the morning before they hit the sack. Knew how early you’d wake up and everything. It’s not often you find parents like that. They’ll come down soon, don’t worry.”
“Alright.”
Zain refocused his attention a large window to his right, where the white sunlight glowed.
“And for your birthday I’ve got a new game for you. Don’t tell your parents though, because it’s rather dangerous,” he playfully added in a side note.
Sana smiled excitedly, for she liked liked dangerous things. The word always triggered some kind of exciting reaction from her—often resulting in her breaking things: material objects, someone else, or even her own bones and body.
“Do you feel like you’re thirteen, Zain?”
“Not really, no,” Zain replied. “It always takes a month or two before I actually feel older.”
“Savor that, Zain. Once you grow to my age, birthdays become irrelevant to everyone but yourself,” Uncle Malek said, as he stared at Zain with longing eyes. It had become very obvious to the children over the years that their uncle severely missed his childhood. It was why he always had the light of youth in his eyes, trying to continue living like a child. “Your mom and I had the best birthdays when we were little.”
“I finished,” celebrated Sana as she licked her lips. “Can we go play something in the backyard? The snow Is finally gone.”
“Yes. Go play,” Uncle Malek ushered the siblings out to the backyard and then returned to snoring on the couch.
Of course, their backyard was concealed from view by any other homes in Corrin—surrounded by a tall wall of heavily tinted windows, tall enough so that neighbors couldn’t even see in from the second floor of their homes. Inside the walls was an abomination of overgrown weeds and small spiky bushes that jutted out from the grass. Lizards scurried up the ivy-covered rocks to bathe in the sun. And at the back of the yard there was a ring of well-kept grass the perfect size for Zain and his sisters. In the center of it stood a slanted weeping willow with branches jutting out in every direction, slightly swaying in the wind. Sometimes, the children would climb up it and watch the neighbors out of the upper branches, concealed by the heavy mass of leaves.
“I don’t feel like playing right now, Sana,” Inaya said as she plopped down on the grass. “Let’s just sit.”
“But we all came out here to play something!”
“We’ll play together in half an hour, I promise. Right now I just want to relax.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Zain quietly sat down in the circle as well, while Sana paced around the tree, counting her steps. Zain and Inaya laid back against the grass and faced the sky. It was a dull gray, except today there were no falling white flecks.
“Have you ever thought about what you’re going to do once you turn 25, Zain? Where you’re going to go?” Inaya asked.
“I don’t know . . . I’ll probably stick around Corrin. I haven’t thought about it much. It’s a long time from now.”
“Really?” Inaya sat up. “You don’t want to explore the rest of Gaudium? See what other people are like?”
“I will. In Corrin.”
“I want to go see everything!” Sana jutted in. “I want to see the ocean, and canyons, and very big spiders.”
Inaya laughed a bit, pulling a small chunk of grass out of the ground.
“I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to find giant spiders, Sana.” No one said anything for a while, then Inaya continued, “I want to leave. And I don’t want to wait nine more years.”
“You want to leave now?” Zain asked suddenly, a bit concerned.
“Maybe. I wasn’t lying at dinner. The way I see it, what’s the point of living if you’re living in hiding. That’s just surviving.”
“But we have a lot of fun at home,” said Sana.
“In constant fear. We’re always worried that the Pacifems are going to catch or kill us at any moment. Or that mom and dad will get found out and we’ll have to run away before we’re found. And this new Inspection Pacifem, she’s already searching deeper into things and I don’t know why,” Inaya tugged out the grass a little bit harder. “And you have to be more careful Zain. The safety of this home is making you more clumsy, but this Pacifem—there’s something about her, I feel like she’s already come to the conclusion that there was someone else in our home that day. You could hear it in her voice. She was getting excited.”
“Mom and dad won’t ever let her look in the secret room, though,” Zain said. “And most of the time I’m not scared of getting caught—no one has ever come close to catching us—except for last time. The Pacifems are too dull to notice anything.”
A honeybee buzzed into the breezy weeping willow on his right. Every time he walked into his backyard he felt at peace, like he didn’t have to worry about anything. He could sit still and become one with the wind, and the ground, and the leaves, and the grass. He could watch the leaves on the willow flutter up and down like they were right now. The air was fresh. There was no indoor noise. Everything moved because it wanted to, not because humans made it happen. Except for the weeping willow. For some reason, it had started shaking.
Before he could acknowledge what was happening, Zain was thrown five feet to his left and landed on Inaya, who was then launched a few feet into the air. Sana immediately jolted up and tried to balance herself, but she too was knocked down as the ground shook with shocking ferocity. Yet everyone knew to not scream. Or someone would hear them.
“An earthquake?” Inaya yelled in distress (as quietly as she could). They didn’t live anywhere near a fault line.
Zain got a glimpse through the window and saw that inside, Uncle Malek was also flailing on the ground helplessly. Crrack. The weeping willow snapped from its roots, the trunk toppled over, and it fell helplessly to the side. Sana screamed. The trunk had thudded right onto Sana's leg, followed by a loud snapping sound. Zain winced. He attempted to crawl over to her but was thrust back about twenty feet, where a vase shattered and a shard of glass tore its way up his arm. Zain too screamed.
“SANA!” Zain shrieked. “Try to find cover!”
He waited for the right moment, and then, with all his power, pushed himself towards her as hard as he could.
“OW!” he didn’t know what hit him, but it was something hard enough to stop him from reaching Sana. He landed on the ground in horror, watching as Sana tried to pull her leg from under the tree. Even through the rumbling, Zain could hear his heart beating in his ears.
Meanwhile, Sana was shrieking so loudly that everyone must have heard. Then, as if overloaded, she fell unconscious. The grass next to Zain’s left arm was stained red. He winced in pain and let out a cry. It was as if his left arm was repeatedly being sanded down with a sharp piece of cement. With another jolt, Zain saw Sana's body launch up with her leg still under the tree, and this time heard a massive RRRIPPP.
“SANA! I’m coming!” Inaya shrieked despite the fact that her little sister was unconscious and could not hear her. A heavy stream of tears was running down her cheeks.
Sana’s body was hanging onto its leg by a thin strand of pink, gleaming flesh. The tree continued to bite down. Blood practically pouring out at this point, some flies had already arrived at the site to inspect what was going on. With a massive final jolt, the earthquake threw Inaya and Zain to the other side of the backyard.
The shaking had ceased. Zain was breathing heavily, and he peered across the field to see Inaya just as shaken as him. Her eyes were wide and unmoving, staring in Sana’s direction. Hot tears streamed down her face and settled on the grass. Finally, Zain shook himself out of his trance and gazed towards the tree—only to hold in a yelp.
Sana's lower leg remained lying under the tree—just skin, muscle, and bones now. No blood. And Sana's body was ten feet away, spilling blood at an alarming rate.