seesonlysmoke: (smoke)
One Word Prompt: Mourning

Eleven year-old Altaaf

One moment he had been so happy. Certainly, the men with the guns made him nervous, as did his parents' nervousness as they served them tea. Then there had been the firecrackers going off outside, in what must have been a celebration of the wedding. It didn't take much for Altaaf to persuade his mother to let him and his little sister go outside to join in the excitement, but his sister had turned back to take her doll with her, and he had waited. Perhaps if she had not, he wouldn't have witnessed the massacre. Perhaps if she had not, she would still be alive.

She was just coming, running up to him and smiling, when the door crashed open, trapping him behind it. And then the gunfire. When he pushed the door off him, all he could see was the smoke and hear the loud cracks the bullets as the masked men just fired into the house, not caring where their bullets fell. Altaaf screamed as he saw his sister lying in a pool of her own blood, and then his mother cut down by his bullets. He screamed as he looked at that masked man, those crazed, murderous eyes etching themselves into his mind. He screamed until a hand clamped over his mouth and the smoke obstructed death from his view.

***

They took him with them. They put him in a jail cell on his own until it could be decided what to do with him. He didn't know how long he sat there alone with only those terrifying images for company. Then the police officer came in, Inayat Khan, and told him that he was now his son and that he would take to his new home.

***

He said not a word to his new parents. The man made him nervous, but his wife was a lovely, kind woman, still mourning the loss of their own son from a terrible accident. But Altaaf did not speak. He couldn't. The horror...his own loses were too great for words. Instead he drew. And drew. And drew. Papers surrounded him, each one of the same thing. Each drawn feverishly as if putting it to paper would take it from his own head.

The masked man. The gleaming eyes.

It didn't, though. No matter how hard he tried. He couldn't get rid of the image of the man who had slaughtered his family.

Ten years later

Those images still reside in his mind. At night, every night, he relives that day, 23rd June, in Dalgate in his nightmares. Each night he sees the masked man. Now he knows who that man is, and has known for the past ten years, but now he is ready to avenge his parents and sister. The day that Inayat Khan dies at his hand, will be the day he can finally stop mourning the loss of his family, and his innocence.

Profile

seesonlysmoke: (Default)
Altaaf Khan

November 2012

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
18 192021222324
252627282930 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 04:44 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios