The Sound of a Broken leg

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This is a beautiful and Interesting Novel I will publish all of parts

When my father died, I did'nt shed any tears, I just stood in a corner,watching my mother cry and wail.

I wathched how my father's body was taken out of the house and taken to the mosque and then to the cemetery.

I was sitting in a corner of the house and I was watching the people who had gathered in our house when my aunt came and hugged me softly and said,"Oh God, I will die at this age, you have become an orphan.

I just looked at him and didn't say anything, because I didn't know who the orphan was talking to. My mother had no children except me and after mt father's death, I had become her rock of patience.

She used to huge me for days, she tears and tell stories about my father; and I used to listen quietly untill I fell asleep. Days passed, aunts, uncles and other relatives went to their homes and lives, only me and my mother remained. After the 40th of my father, my uncle came and took us to their house.

There, my mother and I slept alone in the same room, we did not disturb my midwife and her family, my mother had become very thin and thin, she sat in the corner for days and silenty cried

When I was cooming from outside, he was wiping his tears with the corner of his black tent, and was trying to make me not underdstand.

When my uncle comes to our room, she complains abou the high cost of food and the increase in unemployment and says things that I dont know why he said that." Yes sister, the situation in the country is not good. They will do anything to get out of the country. It is not work and it is expensive, on the other hand, if he didn't go to friday prayers, he may be would have a shadow over your heads, God may have mercy on us.

I saw my mother was only crying , her poor tears made me feel bad, so I wanted to go to her side and cry together and may God have mercy to us.

In the morning, my mother woke me up by stroking my hairs and said," Dear Hamira, wakeup, let's have morning tea and go to a place ."

I said, "Where should we go, mother?"

You go first, wash your hands and face and get ready, I tell you."

When we had morning tea, my mother put on her tent nad we walked together.

We went to the place that used to be our house. That day, we went to maybe seven or eight houses of our old neighbor and my mother was able to get three tissues, then we came back exhauseted.

After that, my mother used to sit and knit cotton socks during the day, and se stayed up until late at night. wirth her money, we could buy food, such as tea and bread. That once a week we could cook food such as potatoes or rice or beans and on the other days we could only eat bread and tea.

Four months passed and our condition was getting worse every day, none of the women gave us tissue anymore and said," I know you have problems, sister jan, but you can see that my husband has been unemployed for a long time, in this bad situation, "I wish he would fnd our bread, my children would not go hungry."

My uncle also went to work once and twice a week, he was always at home, the streets were empty, the doors of schools and universities were closed, and it was clear from everyone's faces that they are poor and helpless.

My mother and I were just getting better when we went back to squar one.

We didn't even have dry bread anymore, if my uncle didn't give us bread, we would have to spend day and night hungry.

Until one day, my mother came with a tall and built man who had small and brown eyes, a long and relatively large nose, and the folds on his forehead showed what a bad person he was. When he entered the house, my uncle and mother left the house, only I and he remained.

The heavy silence covered the room, I don't know why, but I felt suffocted by his presence in the room, he wa making it difficult to breathe.

He said:" What is your name?"

I said ,"Hamira"

What a beautiful name, just like you, I slowly raised my head and faint smile appeared on the corner of my lips, but it quicky disappeared.

As soon as my mother and my uncle came, I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly went and sat next to my mother.

I hid my face in his black tent; It's just that sometimes I used to look a that man from under my mother's tent.

When I saw my mother's side, it was clear from her puffy eyes that she had cried.

But I didn't know why he was crying, silence reigned in the room and I hated such heavy and exhausting silences.

I was saying that I wish my uncle or that man would say something to break this suffocating silence. After a moment, that man got up, looked at my mother and said," I'm leaving now, I,ll pick you up at four o'clock, collect what you have" my mother just nodded her head in agreement.

My uncle accompanied his to the outside of the yard and then she came and said,"Dont worry, sister, everything will be fine, and on the other hand, you have to, if you don't do this, Hamira and you will die of hunger, you also know me that how I find the cost of my family. Khalid is not a bad person, you will be happy with him.

My mother said slowly," I only accept your word for Hamira's sake, I don't want my daughter to be miserable like me." Then he hugged me and kissed my cheek, tears slipped from his black eyes like pearls.

That day, that man came with a mullah, after that mullah spoke some Arabic words that neither I nor my mother understood, and then he said, "You are husband and wife from now on."

When the car stopped infront of a big and beautiful mansion, I aaked my mother,"Where is mother here?" she whispered softly in my ear, Our new home.

We got out of the car and went to the yard, Mr.Khalid Knocked the door a few times, we waited for a while, someone came and opened the door. He was a handsome and smiling boy, he laughed when he saw us and hugged Mr.Khalid

Then he saw my mother's side and said,"She is my new mother." again he pointed to my side and said,"Who is this?" Yes, this is your mother, and this girl is your little sister.

He smiled faintly and said nothing more. The inside of his yard was very beautiful, full of beautiful trees and attractive flowers.

Mr.Khalid said to Sabour, go my son, call your other brothers, I have work to do with all of you.

My mother and I sat on the chair to see what he was saying, when his other two sons came, they didn't say anything and passed by indifferently. Their father cleared his throat and started talking to us, one of his sons pointed and said, this is Tahir and this is Mohammad. Tahir is my eldest son and he is studying at university, he is in third year and he is going to become a doctor. Mohammad is in the 11th grade of school.

Their mother had cancer, we tried a lot, but it seemed like that was the end of it.

He choked his troat and didn't say anything, his sons just kept their heads down and didn't say anything anymore. The room was filled with heavy silence when my mother said " I am sorry " slowly.

Tahir pointed to our side and said, "Won't you introduce their father to us?" His father shook his head and said, "Of course I will introduce you, She is your mother after this and Hamira is your little sister." Tahir was a very good and kind person , he smiled and said,"You know better,father, I have no problem."

Mohammad stood us like lightning and said,"I have a problem! I have a problem with your work. My father took this lady's hand without saying anything, brought her home and expects us to call her mother."

His father stood and said," This is good for all of us."

Mohammad said,"What good, I don,t need any sympathy from you and I wil handle all my work myself, I don't need anyone to call mother after my mother.

He left the room without listening to his father.

His father sat down on a stool again and held his head in his hands and did not say anything.

After a few minutes, Mr.Khalid stood up and said, "Let me show you your rooms. My mother's room was the same as Mr.Khalid's room and my room was between Sabbour and Tahir's rooms." Mohammad was alone on the seond flour, and later Sabbour told me that Mohammad did not want anyone to disturb him or make noise, that's why he is alone in the room.

Writer: Latifa Tawana