Zakia - Episode 8

 

We'd arrived from the battlefield early that morning, and just like always, I wouldn't stop crying. 

In the so-called war, I'd killed a total of six people: An elderly woman, four children, and another elderly woman. 

Frankly, pulling the trigger at every single one of them had been quite easy,- I'd aimed and killed them all instantly,- except for one really tragic case. The boy in question was just a child, whose age was nothing less than ten, and there'd been tears smudged all over his face as I approached him . He hadn't begged me vocally, he didn't have to. His plea was written all over him, and yet, I'd failed to listen. The circumstance that surrounded me wouldn't let me.

I shot him right in the chest, and it was mostly because I wanted to grant him an easy death at least, but it didn't happen that way. I watched him struggle with death. I watched him struggle to breathe, I watched him cough profusely until he couldn't take it anymore.. And then, he died, just like everyone else that was unfortunate enough to be in that vicinity.

Normally, I was used to it.. everything. I was used to the anxiousness of preparing for war, I was used to the fear of inching closer and closer to the battlefield, I was used to the apprehensiveness of having to kill innocent souls, I was used to the guilt that surfaced after it'd all ended.

I went through all these every week, however, there was something about this particular one; there was something about this particular boy. 

When our eyes first made contact, he seemed shocked, it was almost as if he knew me from somewhere. I recognised him too, but in a way I couldn't quite grasp, a sense of familiarity I couldn't quite place my fingers on. 

"Who is he?" I kept on asking myself amidst my hot tears, but unfortunately, no explanation seemed plausible enough to fill in the missing gaps

All episodes of this story can be found here >> https://www.ebonystory.com/story/zakia

. And on top of that, my head ached badly. A sharp, intermittent pain that only got worse by the second. Instinctively, I held onto my head with both hands, obviously to relief myself.. but in that very moment, something really strange happened: I started remembering something.

In my head, I saw myself and the boy, I was feeding him a warm meal; He seemed happy, and so did I.

In another scenario, I saw myself and the little boy again, we were both playing football. He was the player, and I was the keeper.. As he kicked the ball, I fell right onto the bare ground, whilst the ball on the other hand, went past the goal post. 

"Goal!!!!" He yelled excitedly, and although I was a little bruised, I still managed to giggle along..

But that wasn't all. 

In the last scenario, I saw the same boy. He was ready to go to bed, and right before he finally tucked himself in, he hugged me, and whispered to me. "Goodnight Aunty Zakia.."

It was at that point that it finally struck. "Khalid!" I screamed. "It's Khalid," I kept on repeating to myself like a maniac. 

I killed Khalid.

I killed my little cousin.

"No!" I screamed, hitting my hands on the wall.

Read " Preordained " by the same author ( Ishola Ubaydah )

. "No! No! No!" I wouldn't stop yelling.

I killed my own flesh and blood.

But that wasn't all..

As my memory slowly began to flood back in, I realised Khalid wasn't the only relative I'd pulled the trigger at.. The pregnant woman. 

The pregnant woman is my Aunt.. Sister Ruqayah..  I shot her, I killed my unborn cousin too. 

"Oh God no! Please no!" I yelled on top of my lungs again, rolling back and forth on the bare ground. And right about that time, Iman had barged into my room, with concern written all over him. 

"What's wrong? What's going on with you?" He wouldn't stop questioning me. But I didn't pay him any mind. I was going crazy inside. The guilt was tearing me apart. The pain was too much for me to handle mentally.

"Look Usaynah, would you just stop all these and tell me what's wrong with you?" Iman had suddenly yelled in frustration. 

And almost instantly, I fired back at him. "Stop calling me Usaynah, okay! My name is not Usaynah! My name is Zakia..!"

His mouth dropped open in shock. 

My memory is back. But if only that felt like a relief..