"The Demonic Construction" by Ahmed Almejerfi

“Father, don’t come, stay there.”

That was the last words that come out of his terrifying soul, A memory which kept recurring in my head over and over. I woke up in the morning, eat the same breakfast, cry about my son, sleep and repeat. Surrounded by four corners, the same corners that was held by that demonic construction which takes everything from me. My family, my life, my son, the purpose, and the need to keep rolling the rock that once Sisyphus rolls. I keep cursing that construction. I keep cursing the moment that was created and the day which my foot step in it. I blame myself for not saving him on time. I blame myself for the weaknesses that prevents me from calming him when he was screaming. I fail you Anna. I didn’t keep my promise of protecting our son. Now, he can join you in your journey to heaven. and I should be staying in this room lonely, weeping and lamenting which I believe a proper end for a person like me.

It was on 9th of October when we heard a news about a new center. A building which contains merely everything such as clothes shops, restaurants, coffee shops, and place where my son can play with the rest of the children. I felt like it is a proper place to keep my son busy since I was working on a new article for New York Times Magazine. I sat there drinking a cup of a sugarless coffee and doing my work. The laughs of my lovely son and other children were like a music to my ears. I was confused whether I criticize the new poet who appeared lately with his unique style of writing or the new work by David Gates who fewer people know about his gift in writing fiction stories. The confusion gave me a headache since it was difficult to decide. Suddenly, after choosing the topic and writing the last letter of the title, the machine which generates the electricity of the whole building get damaged and everything was shut down. That scene was like a judgment day. People were screaming, and fire and blood was everywhere. My head begin to hurt me and I barely could breath. I couldn’t withstand the situation so I scream “Stoooooop! Stop it”. In a blink of an eye, I couldn’t sense anything, nobody screams. There was nothing but a complete darkness. I being to regain my senses when I saw a blood on the ground. I don’t know how, but I knew that blood was my son’s blood. I follow that blood where it leads me to a road which was built above the volcano. At the end of the road, there was a house turn upside down. Unfortunately, the fire burns everything. Nothing was left except planks of wood and a couple of windows. I looked right and left, hoping that I might catch a glimpse of him. I found a pile of dead bodies. Beneath of them was my son screaming and say “Father, don’t come! Stay there!” I was scared to go there. I couldn’t see clearly. I was coughing a lot due to the smoke that comes out of the fire. Then, I came to myself and say“ What am I doing? Where is the sacrifice that I promise my wife of?”. I regain my strength and go inside, but it was too late. My son is taking his last breath. My hands was covered with his blood when I hold him in my pair hands. I felt something strange, my vision was blurred. I felt the agony and the suffering of hundreds of souls and then I passed out.

I woke up in a room with a doctor diagnosing me and saying “How do you feel my patient? I looked to your file and your symptoms”

I said, “So what happened?”

“It appears that you have haemophobia”

“what?”

“sorry, I mean you have a phobia of blood”

“ well, I didn’t notice that since it happen to me for the first time”

“It is in your genes, it is possible since your father had it” he continued, “Hmmmm, you are the most rare sample that I have ever encountered”

I didn’t know what he meant by that. Actually I didn’t have the chance to ask him about it since I was bothered with the headache that got me suddenly. He gave me a headache tablets and when everything become normal, I asked him, “Where is my son? What did happen to him?” a questions which I kept repeating them over and over. He didn’t answer me directly saying that it is none of his business and that he is only doing his job. Leaving me with big question marks. But sooner or later, there will be a time when I know everything. When I closed my eyes and open them, I found myself in my room with my roommate bleeding after hurting his hand with a knife accidentally while he was making the food. The blood triggers everything that I have gone through. I sat in my bed shocked of what happened followed by the misery and the agony. My roommate told me that “It is not how you go through it, it is how you feel about it. it is our emotional reaction which makes it severe as it is. We are shocked because of the expectations that we put in our life, the expectations of having a better life, and the expectation of having everything we have dreamed of. We have that tendency to control everything. But when it comes out of control, we begin to blame everything. We begin to weep and cry. Why do we always feel that we are the first one to experience that moment when we loss somebody? And that there might be a uniqueness about the way our life is going. If you live long enough, you will see that life is a circle. You will see that everything old is new again, you will see people come and go. It might be difficult but everything will turn out all right. Don’t Loss Yourself!” His wise words was cut out by a knock in the door

“knock, knock, knock!”

“Hey Sam! Stop talking to yourself” The security continued, “her is your food.”

The End

#my_prose #creative_writing