*
Twitched as the darkness moved in and out.
It crawled up the spine and nestles in the brain.
Like an evil thought from out of nowhere,
Burying itself in the psyche
Like a starving leach looking for a vein…..
*
Save me, someone.
He lay on his side, curled up, retching, splattering the ground with blood. Through a mist of pain, he watched one of them aim a kick at a large metal chair lying on its side.
“Not the wheelchair,” he moaned, through gritted teeth. His eyes focused on Abbas, who grinned and drew back his foot again.
The kick connected with Ahmad’s ribcage, making him gasp. Spasms of pain raced through his body, his vision going black at the edges as his body shuddered with the impact of the kick.
“Where’s the bell?” he thought, his eyes watering in pain. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Sameer and Hamza picking up the wheelchair. That was unusual. They usually preferred watching him drag himself across the ground to his wheelchair. They even helped him sometimes, dragging him upright and then letting go of his arms, watching in delight his desperate attempts to stay upright as his legs gave way before him and he went crashing to the ground.
Really amusing guys, huh?
A kick to his gut jolted him to his senses. As he rolled over on the ground, clutching his stomach, he heard Abbas say something to Ahsan, and he caught the words “….. something different today.” A feeling of uneasiness ran through his mind, in fearful anticipation of what ‘different’ thing they were planning.
Ahmad saw Hamza and Sameer approaching and flinched as they reached down towards him. With a snort, they grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. One hand gripping his head, they half-carried, half-dragged him towards his wheelchair where Abbas & the others stood waiting.
His foot caught on the pavement and he staggered, slumping against Hamza, his shoulder smashing into his face. A scream ripped through his throat as Hamza aimed a hard kick at his kneecaps. He dropped like a tree as Sameer dragged him forward & onto the wheelchair, his elbows scraping the ground.
Ahmad found himself praying involuntarily as Abbas came into view, leering. However, surprise broke across his face as Abbas gave him a warm smile.
“Well, Ahmad,” he said, with an angelic smile. “I think that’s enough for now. After all, we’re your friends; we’re not going to hurt you. So there will be no need to tell anyone about this. Right? This will be our secret or else…..”
With a feeling of dread, Ahmad tried to smile and said: “O-Of course, guys.”
He never understood did he?
“Come on guys, let’s take Ahmad back to class,” Abbas shouted to the others. At that moment, a gong echoed through the ground.
“Oh my,” said Sameer, in mock horror. “Looks like we’re going to be late for class.”
“We’ll have to run for it.” Hamza said, with a grin.
They started running, pushing the wheelchair & Ahmad ahead of them, gaining speed.
“Umm guys? C-Can we go slowly?” Ahmad pleaded as the other shouted with glee.
“Oh no Ahmad, you’re going for a ride” said Abbas with an evil smirk as they neared the staircase leading down into the football field. Ahmad, realizing what was coming, started to cry & plead with his captors, to no avail as Abbas let go of his wheelchair.
The wheelchair rushed onwards and over the stairs. For a moment, he hung suspended in the air. In that brief moment- before his wheelchair fell, before he crashed into the concrete steps, before his nose shattered into pieces and the blood gushed out, before he came to lie in a pool of his own blood, battered and broke- that he cursed. He cursed himself for his disability. He cursed himself for not having the courage to stop this torturous abuse. He cursed his family, his ignorant, carefree parents for never being there for him. He cursed God for making him like he was.
*
A light breeze was blowing, the cool wind lovely & soft on his face. He wheeled his chair close to the edge of the school roof, overlooking the grounds. He closed his eyes, debating once more on whether or not to follow up on his idea. A torrent of memories raced through his mind.
A memory came to him, of when he was in the school cafeteria. He remembered Abbas standing over him, a bottle of pills in his hands, while the crowd behind him roared and cheered. He remembered Abbas shoving the pills down his throat shouting “This will cure your legs, you idiot,” while he protested weakly.
He remembered the pain that followed, the clench of his stomach as it contracted in pain. He could remember hearing the crowd placing bets on how long it would take for him to shit his pants until, after 5 minutes, he did. He remembered the feeling of shame, embarrassment and humility he felt all the way down the corridor to the bathroom where he was made to lie on the wet floor naked, while buckets of water were poured on him in a rudimentary effort to clean him. He remembered how he had been left in that bathroom alone, to crawl across the dirty, slippery floor, put on his wet soggy clothes & make his way to the wheelchair……
His eyes flew open with a gasp as he realized he had no other choice, how he would do anything to stop these memories and put behind his past for good. He slowly pushed himself of the wheelchair, to the ground and onto the ledge. He sat there, his legs dangling in the air. His back throbbed, the wounds of yesterday still fresh and painful. Yesterday, Sameer and Hamza had used him as a target to practice for their dart throwing competition. They had thrown the darts at least 2 dozen times each, with increasing force so that, by the time they were done, his back was painted red with blood. One of the darts was still embedded in his back.
Ahmad took a determined breath. “No more,” he thought & with a determination born from years of abuse, he used the last reserves of his strength to push himself off the roof and plummeted into the arms of the darkness waiting below.
*
