Curfew: 2019 (part 2)

Hello Readers! This is a collection of 3 short stories I wrote about the lockdowns/curfews that were implemented within my country in 2018, 2019, and 2020/2021. This is the second part of the second story of the collection. You can use the following links to read the rest.

2018

2019 part 1

2020

* * *

They had their Easter lunch with no Easter mood at all. The TV was turned on, and footage of the explosions flashed on the screen. After a while, they saw the red flash of breaking news.

“Breaking news! Due to the present condition of the country, schools won’t reopen on the 22nd of April. A curfew will be activated all over the country from 04.00 P.M. today until 06.00 A.M. tomorrow.”

It was then that Maya started to feel the terror and seriousness of the situation. She exploded, unable to control herself anymore. “8 explosions. More than 200 deaths. Our friends are dead! No school again. A 14-hour curfew. WHAT’S WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? WHAT’S HAPPENING TO THIS WORLD?”

“I guess these days are very bad for us Christians,” Taniya said in a quiet voice

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “First, Notre-Dame catches fire. Then, this accident kills ten or so Christians. Now ….now BOMBINGS on Easter.” He stormed out of the dining room.

Taniya’s parents stared at the door, stunned at his sudden outburst, then said to Taniya, “we should get going, dear.” They all stood up and bid farewell, knowing that life was very uncertain at this moment. Maya stared at Taniya’s car pulling out of the driveway and heading home, stroking Domino, who understood that something was wrong and whined.

Maya looked at Domino and sighed. “Things are going to be so different sweetie,” she said, realizing that they will never see Anaya’s calm but cheerful face again. “Nothing will ever be the same,” she hugged Domino

* * *

A few days later, Taniya came to her house, dressed in funeral clothes. They were going to Anaya and her father’s funeral. Both girls hesitated to go in when they arrived at the house. They wanted to see their friend alive, not lying in a coffin, lifeless. Nevertheless, they removed their shoes and stepped into the living room. Two coffins lay in the middle of the room. In the first lay Anaya’s father. He was a replica of Anaya. His face was deformed. It was a terrifying sight to see.

In the next lay their friend. Her face was also scarred. A long gash ran across her forehead. From a piece of shrapnel, Maya couldn’t stop wondering. Did it hurt? Did you feel anything? The fact that they will never see her at school and they will never hear her stories of the pranks she played with her sister hit her mind, hard. She looked at Taniya and saw tears gleaming in her eyes. They paid respect to the lifeless bodies in front of them and went out of the room.

Anaya’s eleven-year-old sister Aadha was standing at the corner of the garden. They went to her and both of them hugged him in turn. The black expression on her face was unbearable. Anaya had been her only sister as well as her best friend. She had found both in one person and lost both at once.

“I’m so sorry Aadha,” Taniya whispered to her. She didn’t say anything. When Maya hugged her, she felt how cold and thin she was. She noticed that her eyes were swollen.

That night Anaya’s dead body and suicide bombers haunted her in her dreams.

* * *

The next few days were just as horrible. There were two more smaller explosions, and more than 300 people had died. Schools were closed for two weeks. Several theories about suicide bombers were spreading around the country. But none of them were confirmed. Some said this was a doing of ISIS terrorists, in return for the Christchurch shooting in New Zealand.

“We didn’t shoot them. It didn’t happen in this country even. Why do WE have to suffer for what one inhuman person did?”

All newspaper articles were about the bombing and the people who died. Every time she sees one she is reminded of Anaya, and how they won’t see her cheerful face in the class when school starts. Every day was full of gloom. The whole country was like a funeral, with white flags everywhere. She knew in her heart that these horrors would never die away for most people.

* * *

Months had gone by. Many had forgotten the incident. Sometimes, it was even used for comical purposes. But every time she enters a church, the images of terror flash before her eyes. The TV screen shows picture after picture of the churches broken down like frail doll-houses. The newspaper pages were printed with letters forming yet another story of a lucky survivor of the explosions. But those reminded her of Anaya’s face, and the bodies of the people who weren’t lucky enough to survive, lying limb on the floor of the churches and hotels. The horrifying memories were still fresh in her mind.

She had gone to school just when it reopened. It had been deserted. The feeling was odd, and it didn’t feel like school at all. She knew that she had to let these memories fade and live her life. But she also knew that she couldn't detach those memories from her mind completely. They will always be somewhere in there, reminding her that the world was not what it seemed. It had a dark side, very different from its appearance. Some people would never forgive either, she realized. Some people lost their whole family in seconds, and they will never forget the terror.

How cruel had the terrorists been to kill innocent people whose only fault was existing? She desperately hoped that the children born for the next generation will never have to face these horrors. She was determined to change the world and make it better for every living being.

“I can’t understand these people. Why do these people fight like this? What is their purpose? Aren't we all humans?” she said to Domino, who was the only one listening to her.

Written in 2019

Edited in 2021

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