Apocalypse Teahouse

Chapter 17: 17. Talk at Night


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___Sahar____

Knock, knock.

Sahar didn't bother stopping. She kept moving her fingers rhythmically on the dough. She turned it over, and using the heel of her hand, kneaded it again and again.

"Sahar?" She heard someone say.

"Who is it?" Sahar asked. Her tone was irritated.

Cahil opened the door, allowing Sahar to view his face. Sahar stiffened as she saw him. She sighed. Cahil opened the door and stepped into her room. It was her lucky stars she had her hijab on, Sahar thought to herself. He shouldn't barge in like this. Her face was covered, but Sahar raised her head and let Cahil know of her disapproval of his entry. Didn't he know that unmarried men and women weren't allowed to share a living space?

"This is my room. You're not supposed to be here." Sahar said. She paused her movements.

"That doesn't matter." Cahil hissed. "Not now."

Sahar sighed, trying to be as patient as possible. "Cahil-"

"Did you see Ahmad? He smiled twice at me yesterday. Twice. He tried to hide it, but I noticed. You know how his expression never changes. And he's been acting weirdly talkative lately. He touched Grandpa's stuff, Sahar!"

"And-" Cahil hesitated. "I snuck into his room at night and-"

"You snuck into his room?" Sahar interrupted, tone rising.

"And it isn't there!" Cahil continued, ignoring Sahar's interruption. "Not there. It's like he's a completely different person."

Worry was contained in his speech. Sahar's expression relaxed as she noticed it. She tossed the dough and left it to rise, then dusted the excess flour off her hands.

“Cahil,” she said patiently. “I know.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Cahil looked very haggard now that she was paying attention. Sahar realized he was just worried about Ahmad. He probably had stressed over it a lot. His hair was wild and uncombed, and his face was dirty, as if he didn’t wash in the morning.

“I know Ahmad’s been acting weird lately.” Sahar said. “I-” I like him, she thought privately. Her cheeks turned red. Sahar coughed to quickly get it out of her system. They were having a serious talk, she chided herself. And here she was, blushing.

“I’ve noticed it for a while, actually.” She continued. “I gave Ahmad a plum. And he ate it. Ahmad hates plums.”

“He’ll take it if you give it to him, but he won't eat it. He thinks it’s too sour, though he’s too polite to say so. He doesn’t like anything sour.”

“He must be possessed,” Cahil declared. As Sahar had agreed with him, it looked like he was firm in his belief. “He must be possessed by a demon or a witch, or some other monster. Or maybe he was kidnapped.”

“We have to save Ahmad!”

Sahar hesitated.

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“Cahil.” Sahar said. “We can’t just go over and confront him like that. Just… wait.”

Cahil looked to be in disbelief at her words. “Wait?” He repeated. “Wait, while we have absolutely no idea what is happening to Ahmad? Wait, while that thing might kill us in our sleep?”

“I doubt Ahmad will kill us in our sleep, Cahil.” Sahar said dryly.

“That’s the point!” Cahil shouted. “That thing is not Ahmad!”

Sahar furrowed her brows. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered possession, or kidnapping. But it was too early to make sure. Though unlikely, it could be that Ahmad simply had a change of heart for some reason. She looked up at Cahil, who looked panicked.

“I’ll confront the demon.” Cahil said, voice trembling. He took a deep breath. “You tell Grandpa, I’ll go and fight the demon. You can wait-”

“No Cahil,” Sahar interrupted, “Don’t do something you’ll regret.” Cahil opened his mouth to argue, but Sahar carried on, ignoring him, “And you will definitely do something you’ll regret if you continue that line of thought.”

“Ahmad might simply be having a hard time right now. Or maybe he’s in puberty.”

Cahil scoffed at her words.

“And even if it is a possession,” Sahar said, her voice urgent, “You can’t go and try to fight it willy-nilly. What if it-” she gulped. She closed her eyes, her voice caught in her throat. “What if you get hurt?” she said weakly. “Or Ahmad… gets hurt?”

“So you’re saying we have to do nothing.” Cahil growled. He seemed hurt by her words. “I’m not weak.”

“If the thing is a demon, you will be weak, no matter how strong you think you are.” Sahar said. “We don’t have any choice.”

It was silent in the kitchen. The air was heavy. Sahar tried not to think about anyone getting hurt, but all she could think about that second was everyone she knew disappearing forever. What if he’s never coming back? She thought. What if Ahmad and Cahil, no, what if the entire neighborhood was destroyed? The monsters were coming more and more often. Suddenly, Cahil’s theory of a possession sounded more and more plausible.

The monsters were rapidly increasing. It wouldn’t be a surprise if demons started popping up, too. Though very rare, they were sometimes sighted. Occasionally someone died due to a summoning or possession.

The demon was obedient now, but what if it decided to rampage in the future?

Cahil also seemed to be scared, though he was trying to hide it. Sahar knew that behind his uplifted chin and determined expression was a normal boy, in fear. His body was trembling.

“You get it your way.” Cahil said darkly, “I’m telling Gramps.”

“Get out.” Sahar responded.

As soon as Cahil shut the door behind him, Sahar collapsed on the ground. She hugged herself in an attempt to stay calm. Grandfather was very powerful, with many connections. An exorcism would be expensive, but the house wasn't short on money. Ahmad would be safe.

He had to be safe. After a while Sahar stood up. She picked up the saucepan. It would soon be morning. Her mother would come soon, telling her to make breakfast. Sahar mechanically cracked the eggs and took out the yogurt from the fridge. Her stomach growled.

The sun was rising. 

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