Struggle. Love. Cry. Hope.
For Romanian click here.
A novel first published in Romanian (Eikon 2017), available in English (translated by Mihaela Alecu) on Amazon (click on the image).
Here you can read in on free, so don’t forget to Follow my blog to stay updated with all episodes.
After Ahad finished with her, he called two of his men.
“This one,” he said, “kill her. She is indeed, different, that the other women!”
Maha threw herself at his feet, begging for mercy.
“Why?” she screamed. “I did everything you wanted! Wasn’t it good?”
Ahad grinned and signaled the two to take her out of his sight.
The two took the unfortunate woman; they dragged her far away from the camp, where they buried corpses.
“Shouldn’t we first use her?” the first one asked.
“Yes, it would be a shame to kill her first,” said the other one.
They ripped away her clothes without caring for her cries. They each possessed her, as they pleased, without haste, until they had enough; afterwards they cut her throat with a long knife. The woman gurgled, choked, then she died. The two buried her, afterwards they got back to the camp joking on her behalf.
Amanda cried on her husband’s shoulder, right there, in the middle of the airport. He indeed came with the first flight, offering her an unexpected emotional support. Even though it wasn’t easy, she got used to be without him and she learned to live separately and away from him, but now it was good that he came, she felt she couldn’t handle it anymore, the burden was too heavy even for hoe big soul.
“Thank you for coming,” she told him, “when she managed to calm down. You had no obligation… and still…”
“I know, but I wanted to!” Ioan insisted.
“Everything is so tragic,” Amanda said.
“God, I couldn’t even believe it, when I heard about it! It is so horrible…”
“Should we go there to light a candle?”
“Yes, of course.”
Because the subway or train does not reach Otopeni airport, the two took a taxi, to get to Colectiv faster than by bus. It was almost midnight when they got there. A sea of candles lit up the whole street in front of the club. Every one of those coming to put their candle held a moment of silence, making room for the next and so on. The street had become a place of pilgrimage, for the remembrance of the deceased, but moreover a place of prayer for the healing of the survivors, some of them struggling between life and death.
Amanda stood next to Ioan, holding his hand. When their turn came, they lit the two candles that Amanda had brought. The young woman knelt, trembling with tears. Ioan was caressing her back but he didn’t know what to say to her, no word seemed appropriate, so he let her cry, just caressing her softly, without stopping.
They left and came back every day. And they would spend their evenings at the demonstrations, asking like everybody else the resignation of those indirectly responsible for the death of so many young people. It wasn’t until they got it, that they calmed down. After staying in Bucharest for another week, Amanda returned to Brașov, and Ioan to Vienna.
Azade informed him that she was going to move to the camp, because she was losing too much time on the way there and back.
“Moreover,” she said, “I am convinced that I am safe here. Maybe even safer than on the way, where so many things can happen.”
“God forbid! He almost shouted.”
“But don’t worry, nothing is going to happen.”
“Be careful! He got to say.”
Azade says “Bye” and then she hang up, before Bryan got the chance to end it with “I love you!” And yet, he whispered softly even after Azade had disappeared from the other side of the conversation:
“I love you…”
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