Alara

This place is incredible. I never knew it existed—although, I'm glad I didn't. If I needed money to help feed my mom and I, I definitely would have come here to steal and sell one of these lamps in Qadura.

It would have left me well off for a long time. I wouldn't have felt the need to fake being a royal and throw myself into the mess of a situation in the first place.

Zayen and I turn the corner and enter into another market. There seem to be different markets and stalls all over the area—way more than Qadura and Wadi combined. The smell is warm, like home-cooked food. It is filled with all kinds of foods, from bright fruits to crispy tamriyeh.

My mouth begins to water. Tamriyeh is a dessert I only remember having as a very small child. It is dough that is filled with pudding and then fried.

A soft cry for help draws my attention, and I push past a few people, not bothering to look back for Zayen.

A man holds a small child down on the floor, his face pushed against the sandy floor, while another man crushes the child's fingers with his foot.

He cries, begging them to stop. "I should take your hand! Your head!" The man's voice is like sandpaper. He looks vengeful, like he has spent years looking at everything with a deep frown on his face and now it is stuck like that.

"Ghalas!" Enough! I rush to the man, using the force from my running to push the man off the child's fingers.

The other man reaches for me and I duck out the way. He steps away from the child, and the child gets up and runs around a corner, disappearing.

People are staring already, but they don't seem to do anything. Why? The man grabs for me again and I duck away, straight into the other man. He holds my arms tightly behind me, the position uncomfortable and painful.

But not as painful as the realisation that I am in this situation again. My heart caves. Maybe this is never going to end.

Zayen is nowhere to be seen. I search for him, but I can't find his face. If he saw, I know he'd help me. He wouldn't run. He promised he would protect me.

Right?

Maybe he left because he could see how badly I wanted his arms around me on the top of that minaret. I didn't crave to be kissed or to be touched, but to be loved and caressed. By him.

For a moment, when he had asked if I want him, I had imagined him pulling me in close and letting me rest my head on his shoulder or his broad chest. I remember how comforting it was to be carried by him before, and it would have been a thousand times more so if I was cuddled by him.

But, as the man jerks my body back, it is a startling realisation that Zayen is gone. Whether by mistake or on purpose, I'm on my own. And stupidly, I still didn't learn how to fight—even after the many reasons I've been given to learn.

Even the tactic I used before, of trying to use my body as a weapon, doesn't work here. Maybe it's the distraction of knowing that I am completely on my own, and I don't have anyone who will have my back.

As if I am back in the streets of the souk again, having to fight for myself because nobody else will fight for me. I am that girl who steals because nobody else can provide for me. Nothing has changed, even if everything is different.

The feeling of loneliness crushes me as the second man comes to stand in front of me, his towering form nearly making me step back into the first man who holds me from behind.

His gaze leaves mine and calmly looks around at the people walking by who stare at the scene, but do nothing. He knows they won't try to do anything. He is nearly as big as Zayen. I wonder if Zayen would have—

"Yalla," the second man says, nodding his head to the side. And then I am being dragged across the floor. The foods and fruits in the stalls all become a blur of colours as tears cloud my vision.

I want to scream, I want to fight, I want to do absolutely anything but my body feels numb. I didn't want to lose hope, but I have nothing to hold on to.

So I stop letting my legs drag and choose to walk. I follow them. My heart sinks deep into my chest, making it much harder to take each step forward.

There's no way to tell what they'll do—how angry they are. The man's grip on me is tight, knowing that, like anyone, I would run if he loosened it.

I'm not a fighter, I'm a runner. So I'll have to wait for my chance to run.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

The second man—the tall, seemingly grumpy one, turns to watch me closely. The look in his eyes feels like it is boring into me. It reminds me of the way Zayen used to look at me. "That depends on you." His accent is thick

"Please let me go. I don't have anything." My steps slow, trying to waste time to look for an escape.

He grunts. "Oh, so now you are trying to reason, but when you were stepping into our punishment you didn't bother to ask why we were doing it?"

"He is just a kid!" I nearly trip over my feet as the first man pushes me along. I want to kick him, solely because I am already walking and being compliant. There is no need to push me.

"Yes, and kids need discipline or they will turn into horrible adults."

"Breaking his fingers is not—"

"And here you are again, still arguing when you don't know the context of our actions." He whispers under his breath, calling me uneducated.

An insult that that lands it's hit. "Fine, why were you punishing that kid?"

"He was constantly getting into fights, bullying other kids and stealing from them without consequences. His father refused to correct him, so we took action. If that child doesn't learn to do better, he will not change."

"Okay, please let me go now." I dig my feet into the ground, trying to stop, but obviously that doesn't work.

"Every action has a reaction. You chose your actions, now you will follow us."

"Where are you taking me?"

He puts up his hand, walking ahead of me. And that ends our conversation.

Eventually we come to a boat sitting at a small dock, and my heart sinks. It's a wooden boat, only able to fit three or four people. "Wait." I push back, fighting my way out of the man's grip. His hold on me tightens to become painful. "Wait, no! I can't leave."

My mom. I can't leave her here. Using my elbows, I fight and push and make it as hard as possible for them to get me onto the boat. 

The second man grunts and lifts my legs as I kick. "No! No! Stop!" I scream on the top of my lungs, if only to irritate them into not wanting to spend a boat ride with me.

They dump me onto the boat and untie the ropes to release it into the water. I turn back, to look out into the empty ocean where nothing can be seen except water.

The boats shifts slowly with the current, and I lean over the side to watch the dark blue that shifts beneath us. It's terrifying to not know what is down there, to not know when it ends.

But not as terrifying as having nobody, and no idea where I am going or what will happen.

My plan of running won't work now, so I'll just have to change my plan; survive. That's all I have to do—and it's the one thing I'm good at, living against the odds.

The sun peaks out from behind the clouds. It warms my skin. I stick one hand into the water and the current rushes around it, moulding against it.

The second man, the taller, more intimidating one shifts closer to me, watching my hand in the water. His brows furrow. "You'll be okay," he tells me.

"I want to go back. I want to go home." Although I have no idea where home is anymore.

"You're going to somewhere better."

"W—" My heart soars into my throat as I am thrown over the edge of the boat, my head plunging into the freezing water.

~~*~~

Hehe *jumps up and down* I am excited for so many reasons, related and unrelated to the book. I can't wait for what's next.

How are you, my loves?

T w i t t e r : xPineappleGirlx
I n s t a g r a m : laylaawrites
Y o u t u b e : xThePineappleGirlx

Lots of love and jelly tots - xThePineappleGirlx