The Truck

Minutes passed, and went on flowing like water streaming down the fall, as if it wasn't a big deal. With every moment my hope wavered, with every moment my heart sank a little more. With every moment I drowned in despair a little more, tears kept striking my eyes, my mind screamed in panic wanting to shut down in a state of absolute numbness. Everybody says no situation in our lives is nothing beyond what we can bear. But then why do our hearts tell us otherwise? Why doesn't it want to cope with the reality? Why is it always looking for ways to avoid the pain?

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It might as well have been past midnight when I jerked awake. I hadn't realised I had dozed off. There was a kind of commotion somewhere outside, and the vehicle was at rest. Maybe it was found to have some fault in it. It felt like my heart was pressed in a clasp, such was the overwhelming pressure of terrifying dread that enveloped my senses. I found the little flicker of hope completely washed out as if it had never existed. Just as I closed my eyes, with a loud chaotic bang the doors of the truck flew open. I straightened up, somewhat flabbergasted and witnessed with wide unblinking eyes, two uniformed men jumping in. 

"Can you get up?" One of them asked me as the other went to the unconscious bodies. 

I found myself nodding, and pressing my palms against the walls stood up to my feet. He stayed behind me as I carefully got down onto the road and looked around.

The highway was bedecked with various vehicles parked haphazardly with their engines running and doors open. Police mobiles and ambulances shone in the headlights, armed men ran around, shouting orders, as the night above us continued to gradually wear off. I turned to the police man behind me and said, "My sister, she's-"

"Yes," he nodded, "don't worry. They just called the doctor to examine what kind of dose they were given. Let's see if they can easily be brought back to consciousness and how long it takes."

I turned and saw a doctor walking away from the ambulance towards the truck. 

"You should go and sit in a car. It'll immediately take you home."

"I won't leave without my sister." I said and faced the back of the truck, scanning my eyes around to recognize Bisma's face, among other girls. Her face slack, eyes closed, she was in the farthest corner, her head falling on the shoulder of the girl beside her. I thought I saw a dark mark on her forehead and worried if she was hurt. It reminded me of the pain in my own head where I'd been struck, but struggling to ignore it I arched my body to see the doctor approach. I'd forgotten amidst all the horror and remembered only when my eyes ran down his coat and the stethoscope, that I was a medical student myself. Maybe not anymore. I shook the thought off my mind and asked the doctor to check Bisma first. 

"I'll see what is given to them, and then sure your sister would be the first one to be brought back." He assured me with a glance in my direction. Wondering about Adil and Mr. Iqbal, I turned and found that the policeman beside me had walked away. 

A little far in the distance, another car was running towards us.  It came to a stop with a screech as it approached. The doors immediately flew open and from the passenger seat that faced me, Adil climbed out. My heart welled up at his sight and tears struck my eyes when his eyes found me. I clenched my fist to calm myself but the more he neared me the more I felt the urge to cry. Averting my gaze I saw Mr. Iqbal behind him, following him in my direction. 

"Where's Bisma?" He asked when he approached, stopping beside me by the entrance of the truck, his eyes scanning the inside of it. I bit into my lower lip, a huge lump forming in my throat. 

"Child, are you okay?" I heard Mr. Iqbal and turned my neck to look at him , but the moisture in my eyes had begun to cloud my vision.

I gave a nod and looked up at Adil and found his eyes on me, as if searching for any kind of injury. Not able to hold it in anymore, my feet took a step forth and letting my head rest against his chest I broke down into sobs. He tensed up and didn't bring his hand to my back until very long, but it didn't matter. At least he was there, and it was enough for me. I could not ask more from him, I was in no position to.

"The IG said we needed to give them the satisfaction that nobody was following them. That's why it took us long." He gave an explanation in a low voice.

I sniffed, the more I thought about the entire episode, my life in general, the more tears spilled from my eyes. For once I wasn't embarrassed of crying in front of someone. I had been saved from a terrifying end to my life, I thought this situation needed crying to expel the stress building in my mind more than any other.

"Thank you." I said, my voice muffled against him. He didn't respond. 

Wiping my face, I stepped away and avoiding his gaze turned to the doctor. He told us that the dose given to them was heavy, and its effects were expected to wear out in 24 hours, so the girls needed to be taken to the hospital. But the officer muttered in dissent, saying the truck itself would attract too much attention, let alone unconscious girls being carried out from it.

After a small discussion it was decided that it was better to wait all night here than go back to the city and risk the whole country knowing about the incident. So the smugglers were sent in a mobile to the police station, the highway was blocked from a distance to where we were, to stop the oncoming vehicles and make them wait so they wouldn't know the disruption caused. The ambulances and the other police cars with the truck remained, their engines turned off. The doctor gave me a pain killer for the wound on my head, and advised me to rest in an ambulance. Mr. Iqbal assured me that him and Adil were with Bisma, so I should definitely take a small nap. I couldn't refuse, for my head now felt heavier than ever. I intended to wake up in an hour, but when I did finally open my eyes I realized that  the ambulance was moving. In sudden panic I got up only to find Bisma sitting beside me. Her mouth curled into a faint smile, her face drawn and weaker than I had ever seen in our entire lives. With a gasp escaping my mouth, I pulled her into an embrace. When I pulled away I saw that her face was wet with tears. 

"I was so scared." Her voice broke. "I thought-I thought," she shook her head, unable  to complete her sentence.

"It's okay. It's okay Bisma, you're safe now."

"I was so terrified." With the heels of her hands, she wiped her face and then looked at me. "Where's Father?"

"In the ICU. He had a heart attack when he got the news."

"What did the doctors say? Will he be alright?"

"I don't know. I didn't visit him."

She was quiet after that so silence descended between us.

I thought she was wondering about Adil, wondering why he helped her because she still didn't know the truth Father hid from us, and I wanted to tell her everything. Though I decided it could wait until tomorrow, until we had some rest, until we were no more shaken by the events. 

"When I awoke," she said when she finally looked up at me, "I saw the other girls getting up around me too. The policeman gave us something to eat, and only when we had eaten they told me you were here, but that you were asleep. Some old man told me everything. What you did and how you did it. Adil was there too, I recognized him. He has Uncle's face. Now when I am thinking about it, he seemed really nice. Back then I was so numb to all senses, I couldn't register what was happening. I couldn't believe I was safe. Thank you, Mashal." Tears clinging to her lashes fell down to her cheeks.

"Shut up, silly. You're my sister." My own voice wavered.  "You're family. I had to help you, I had to because I could. And if I didn't, I'd be the reason you'd have lost your life, and I would have ruined mine. Families don't become the cause of eachother's distress, Bisma." I took a pause, debating if I should say what I wanted to. "Father didn't know that. I do." I ended up saying the truth.

---

As we headed back home, city nearing outside the ambulance, sun rising, I could physically feel the change, the turn our lives had taken. I didn't think what would happen, I didn't let my mind wander there, because I could never anticipate the reality. I was now afraid of my own life. I was scared of living it, of moving forward. Future was now an obscure aspect, doubtful and almost unreal. I felt like the reader of my own story, outside of it, detached. I had to brace myself, close my eyes, clench my fingers into fists, to see what it was going to bring next. I had a feeling sprouting down in the depths of my stomach that the storm wasn't over yet, that another humongous wave was about to erupt. 

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