Short Story: Escaping the Desert
Title: Escaping the Desert
Characters: OCs - Muniya, unnamed cabdriver
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama
Warnings: running away, disobedience to religion/family
Word Count: 2,398
Summary: Is it wrong to desire more?
Notes: I'm going through all my old documents and posting any stories with merit that I find. This one come from my college creative writing class junior year. That class sucked so much. This is one of the few good things that came out of it. The prompt was actually a re-write of the the story of Mulan... I've strayed along way from that, but there are some similarities.
Disclaimer: Characters DO belong to me, are my own creations, and, therefore, are copyright to me. Any use, personal or commercial, is against the law... and will make me ANGRY.
Dry winds whipped spirals of sand through the air. Low clouds hid behind the peaks of distant mountains of brown, craggy rock. The sun burned through the pale sky. As far as the sun’s rays stretched, no life was to be found. No life existed except the lone figure that wound its way across the golden dunes of gritty dust. Clothed in thick, black fabric, the human stumbled against a rock, but caught itself before it could fall. A gust of wind blew the wrap around the face and revealed two dark eyes rimmed with dark kohl. Her eyes squinted against the unforgiving light and sand, but she walked resolutely onward, pushing down feelings of sorrow and fear. Onward she walked to freedom.
Six months earlier Muniya had decided to leave her home. It had been nothing drastic, no lightning bolt from a sand storm that created her resolve to find a new life. Love had quietly been in her family, shown in small smiles and gentle glances of affection. Though her way of life was strict beneath the ruling of her father and the leaders of her faith, she had never rebelled against it. It had been a way of life to wear the enshrouding black, never to leave the house without her father or brothers, and to be obedient throughout every facet of life.
In secret, her older sister, the mutinous one, had taught her to read and do sums, both of which were forbidden in her land. Her younger sister, the curious one, had shown her smuggled pictures and books from the lands of the infidels. Their father had punished their disobedient acts, but never brutally and they knew they were well deserved.
Muniya’s decision had been a slow one; over time she had begun to realize the desperation that crowded around her. Though she was still young, her life had felt long, dragged out over empty days, turning slowly into years. Trapped in her ordered house, her life had been void of emotion and feeling. She was never angry or upset. On the other side, she had never felt ecstatic overflowing of joy or peace or any good feeling. It had taken her awhile to realize the loneliness and desolation in her life.
As she served her father and brothers the evening meal, a great feeling overpowered her. It took all of her strength to finish ladling soup before she could flee back into the kitchen. Muniya was completely overwhelmed with a desire to flee her home and to find a new life. Desperately, she tried to push it down, but it would not be silenced. It flooded her thoughts, swept over her every feeling, and gnawed on her very soul. This new desire for absolute freedom torment her thoughts, until she came to a decision. If she allowed it, this feeling would overturn the very foundation of her life and change her into an entirely new being.
Muniya resolved to leave behind the strict rules of her society. Always the meek one, no one would ever expect her to be the child to break all bonds of family and tradition. Where would she go? A sick feeling came over her stomach as she chose America, the land of her enemies, the nation of infidels, truly the country of devils. Certainly, no one would ever expect her to travel to that Allah-forsaken place. There, perhaps, she could be safe; she could find a job, find a home, and find anonymity in the crowds of people.
Secretly, she had left their home and borrowed a book on learning English. More than three weeks she had read it through several times as she hid in her room. Her voice became raspy with overuse, but no one noticed. She had only a few possessions to call her own and did not care to take any of them with her.
When the morning came, she snuck downstairs and into her father’s study. Everyone else was gone for a celebration, but she had escaped with a headache. From the safe she extracted one necklace of diamonds and pearls, priceless in its intricacy. No one stopped her as Muniya walked out of the house carrying only a skin of water and the necklace with her younger sister’s passport in a small cloth bag. A pawn shop had gladly provided her money in exchange for the necklace, which she used to buy a plane ticket at a travel agency. As she left, she was greatly relieved that they had not questioned her authority as a woman to buy such a thing. She lived in a small city that had no airport and had to walk to the nearest major city where the airport would take her ticket. Realizing that her father and brothers would be after her when they noticed her and, more important, the jewels missing, she decided that taking the less-traveled roads would be safest. Thus began her long journey across the desert, through the heat and sand, slowly against the wind.
Exhausted and believing that she was dying of thirst, Muniya made it to the city. At the airport, she headed toward the women’s faucets to get a long, cool drink of water. At the front desk, she exchanges her ticket for a different one, this heading to Cairo, hoping to throw off her pursuers. In reality, her trip across the desert only took four hours and her family would not even be returning home for another two. She would be long in the air before that. Breathing a gentle sigh, she walked toward the monitors surreptitiously to check her flight’s status, as a woman would not be reading it.
Finding the gate number, Muniya reached for her bag with the ticket and cannot find it. Frantic, she searched her burqa. Her gloved hands darted over the black fabric searching all of the folds and pockets. Tears glinted in her eyes; would this force her back home? It just couldn’t all end now. She would have to go back to her father and beg his forgiveness. Her punishment would be extreme and she would deserve it. Fear coursed through her veins as her searching became more frenzied.
“Excuse me, miss.” Muniya started at the gentle and male voice behind her. She turned and looked up at the man who dared speak to her. He was tall and, to her horror, pale, a devil. “Is this it?” He bent over and picked up her cloth bag that had fallen just beside her feet. Without looking at him, she took the bag. He turned and walked away and she bit her lip as waves of relief flooded her. A voice speaking in Arabic broke through the airport music and she headed across the linoleum to her gate.
Looking back one last time over her shoulder, Muniya stepped aboard the plane. She found her seat in the back and is, thankfully, next to another woman who is silent the entire ride. Her first time on a plane was uneventful, but she spent the entire time looking excitedly out at the changing landscape far below her. She was too excited to be frightened. She had never left her city, let alone her country.
In the bustling airport of Cairo, she bought another expensive ticket this time with her older sister’s passport. Cautiously, she went into a store in the airport and bought a few items of clothing. A long, flowing skirt and a man’s button-up shirt found their way into her bag. Unfortunately, she understood no word of the foreign language, but she managed to give the right payment. In a bathroom stall she changed into the clothes. It felt horribly immodest, but she wrapped the headpiece back around her hair. Muniya looked in the mirror and was startled to see her face for once staring back at her instead of shrouds revealing only her dark eyes. Ducking her head, she tried to blend in with the crowd and she knew that no one from home other than her immediate family would even begin to recognize her.
Her plane ticket sent Muniya to Paris. From what she saw as she wandered around the airport, France is entirely different from her homeland. The smuggled glances at contraband materials in no way prepared her for the land of the infidels. Everything was so strange, from the clothes to the sounds to the smells. Surely, these people could not be from France; they were all so different! A woman with most of her legs showing bumped into her, as she held the hand of a young girl in similar garb. Muniya stared after them. However, looking around, she found that this was not all unique. So many different types of clothes stood out, each making their own statement of personality. A young boy ran past her as she headed again to the ticket counter.
She was flying to Rio de Janeiro this time. Allah willing, these stops would throw off her followers. For she knew that there was no doubt that they would follow her. Pride and vengeance demanded it. As she sat on a padded chair, waiting, she could not help but feel tired. Due to the time changes and hours in the air, she had no idea what time it was, or even what day. Her new clothes were gritty with sweat and dust and her stomach rumbled angrily. She peered inside her in the paper shopping bag that now contained the rest of her burqa and the remainder of her stolen money. She had changed it into euros before she bought the last ticket and would have to change it into American money when she arrived in the U.S. Her layover was for five hours, so she figured that she had time to eat while waiting. The food was very strange, but it tasted good to an empty stomach and she ate it quickly. She dozed back in the chair before she boarded the next plane.
Ten hours later she finally made it to the hated land, the enemy of all good Muslims. Finally out of airports, Muniya stared at the massive city before her. She could have never imagined how the tall skyscrapers pierced the bright blue sky. They glinted in the bright afternoon sun like the jewels in the necklace. The air was full of smells, so different from the city back home. That was no longer home, though; that part of her life was over. Warily, she stepped to the street and hailed a cab as well as she could.
A yellow and black-checkered cab pulled up next to her with a screech. Swallowing, Muniya sat gingerly inside. She had never been inside a cab before and was uncertain about what to do. The driver in front looked back at her, taking in her grubby clothes and frightened face. He was pale with curly blonde hair. “Where to, lady?” he asked with a smile.
Muniya frowned. She knew that she had to get a visa to stay in the country, her real passport would only keep her here for a few weeks. In practiced, yet stiff English, she asked, “Can you take me visa?”
“Huh? You want to go where?” The man looks back at her in the rearview mirror as she twists her hands searching for the right words.
“I want . . . to stay in America. Visa?” Muniya leans forward hopefully.
“Oh, yeah, sure, lady. I can take you to the government building down on twenty-third. I’m sure they can help you there.” He grins at her, glad to understand her.
Though being alone in a car with a strange man would have made her at the least uncomfortable before, Muniya felt so relieved and grateful that she did not care what her family would have said about what about her.
As she stared out the window at the unfolding sights, Muniya was startled when the driver spoke to her again. “Where you from?”
“Oh! Arabia,” she hoped that she had understood the question.
“Never been there. Why’d you decide to come over here?” He honestly appeared interested and Muniya appraised his open face and felt that she could trust him.
“I am running... from my family.”
His face was serious as he looked back at her. “Running away? What’d they do to you. Beat you or somethin’?”
Muniya frowned, not understanding the meaning behind his words. Oh, she wished she had studied that book harder!
He saw the furrows of confusion cross her face and said with a laugh, “guess you don’t understand all that much yet, do ya?” Muniya smiled politely. He was silent for a few moments as he wove through traffic and Muniya carefully watched his face for any signs of demonic possession.
He looked back and caught her staring and winked at her. Muniya blushed and turned her head. How she had changed! Here she was staring at a complete stranger with her face altogether uncovered. What shame! She looked out at this new land before her and decided that perhaps she could change too. She wanted to become an American, while staying herself. With a sigh, she realized that she would have to wait to find out if it was even possible. They drove for several miles and Muniya felt her heart lifting as she saw the hordes of people. Surely, there was no way her father and brothers could find her in this mass of people. She would finally be safe, safe and free.
The cab driver dropped her off and she shyly paid him. “Hey, sis, you got a place to stay? Here, take this,” he handed her a small piece of paper with numbers written on it, “this is my sister’s number, you call her if you need anything. I don’t usually do this with complete strangers, but you look like you could use a friend in this big town. I’ll tell her about you.” Muniya didn’t understand the majority of the words, but she understood the gesture and her heart hurt in her chest.
She raised her hands in a blessing and he winked again at her. With a small smile on her face, Muniya turned toward the building. Within it lied her new life and freedom. She walked up the steps and felt the wind blow, soothing her face.
Characters: OCs - Muniya, unnamed cabdriver
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama
Warnings: running away, disobedience to religion/family
Word Count: 2,398
Summary: Is it wrong to desire more?
Notes: I'm going through all my old documents and posting any stories with merit that I find. This one come from my college creative writing class junior year. That class sucked so much. This is one of the few good things that came out of it. The prompt was actually a re-write of the the story of Mulan... I've strayed along way from that, but there are some similarities.
Disclaimer: Characters DO belong to me, are my own creations, and, therefore, are copyright to me. Any use, personal or commercial, is against the law... and will make me ANGRY.
Dry winds whipped spirals of sand through the air. Low clouds hid behind the peaks of distant mountains of brown, craggy rock. The sun burned through the pale sky. As far as the sun’s rays stretched, no life was to be found. No life existed except the lone figure that wound its way across the golden dunes of gritty dust. Clothed in thick, black fabric, the human stumbled against a rock, but caught itself before it could fall. A gust of wind blew the wrap around the face and revealed two dark eyes rimmed with dark kohl. Her eyes squinted against the unforgiving light and sand, but she walked resolutely onward, pushing down feelings of sorrow and fear. Onward she walked to freedom.
Six months earlier Muniya had decided to leave her home. It had been nothing drastic, no lightning bolt from a sand storm that created her resolve to find a new life. Love had quietly been in her family, shown in small smiles and gentle glances of affection. Though her way of life was strict beneath the ruling of her father and the leaders of her faith, she had never rebelled against it. It had been a way of life to wear the enshrouding black, never to leave the house without her father or brothers, and to be obedient throughout every facet of life.
In secret, her older sister, the mutinous one, had taught her to read and do sums, both of which were forbidden in her land. Her younger sister, the curious one, had shown her smuggled pictures and books from the lands of the infidels. Their father had punished their disobedient acts, but never brutally and they knew they were well deserved.
Muniya’s decision had been a slow one; over time she had begun to realize the desperation that crowded around her. Though she was still young, her life had felt long, dragged out over empty days, turning slowly into years. Trapped in her ordered house, her life had been void of emotion and feeling. She was never angry or upset. On the other side, she had never felt ecstatic overflowing of joy or peace or any good feeling. It had taken her awhile to realize the loneliness and desolation in her life.
As she served her father and brothers the evening meal, a great feeling overpowered her. It took all of her strength to finish ladling soup before she could flee back into the kitchen. Muniya was completely overwhelmed with a desire to flee her home and to find a new life. Desperately, she tried to push it down, but it would not be silenced. It flooded her thoughts, swept over her every feeling, and gnawed on her very soul. This new desire for absolute freedom torment her thoughts, until she came to a decision. If she allowed it, this feeling would overturn the very foundation of her life and change her into an entirely new being.
Muniya resolved to leave behind the strict rules of her society. Always the meek one, no one would ever expect her to be the child to break all bonds of family and tradition. Where would she go? A sick feeling came over her stomach as she chose America, the land of her enemies, the nation of infidels, truly the country of devils. Certainly, no one would ever expect her to travel to that Allah-forsaken place. There, perhaps, she could be safe; she could find a job, find a home, and find anonymity in the crowds of people.
Secretly, she had left their home and borrowed a book on learning English. More than three weeks she had read it through several times as she hid in her room. Her voice became raspy with overuse, but no one noticed. She had only a few possessions to call her own and did not care to take any of them with her.
When the morning came, she snuck downstairs and into her father’s study. Everyone else was gone for a celebration, but she had escaped with a headache. From the safe she extracted one necklace of diamonds and pearls, priceless in its intricacy. No one stopped her as Muniya walked out of the house carrying only a skin of water and the necklace with her younger sister’s passport in a small cloth bag. A pawn shop had gladly provided her money in exchange for the necklace, which she used to buy a plane ticket at a travel agency. As she left, she was greatly relieved that they had not questioned her authority as a woman to buy such a thing. She lived in a small city that had no airport and had to walk to the nearest major city where the airport would take her ticket. Realizing that her father and brothers would be after her when they noticed her and, more important, the jewels missing, she decided that taking the less-traveled roads would be safest. Thus began her long journey across the desert, through the heat and sand, slowly against the wind.
Exhausted and believing that she was dying of thirst, Muniya made it to the city. At the airport, she headed toward the women’s faucets to get a long, cool drink of water. At the front desk, she exchanges her ticket for a different one, this heading to Cairo, hoping to throw off her pursuers. In reality, her trip across the desert only took four hours and her family would not even be returning home for another two. She would be long in the air before that. Breathing a gentle sigh, she walked toward the monitors surreptitiously to check her flight’s status, as a woman would not be reading it.
Finding the gate number, Muniya reached for her bag with the ticket and cannot find it. Frantic, she searched her burqa. Her gloved hands darted over the black fabric searching all of the folds and pockets. Tears glinted in her eyes; would this force her back home? It just couldn’t all end now. She would have to go back to her father and beg his forgiveness. Her punishment would be extreme and she would deserve it. Fear coursed through her veins as her searching became more frenzied.
“Excuse me, miss.” Muniya started at the gentle and male voice behind her. She turned and looked up at the man who dared speak to her. He was tall and, to her horror, pale, a devil. “Is this it?” He bent over and picked up her cloth bag that had fallen just beside her feet. Without looking at him, she took the bag. He turned and walked away and she bit her lip as waves of relief flooded her. A voice speaking in Arabic broke through the airport music and she headed across the linoleum to her gate.
Looking back one last time over her shoulder, Muniya stepped aboard the plane. She found her seat in the back and is, thankfully, next to another woman who is silent the entire ride. Her first time on a plane was uneventful, but she spent the entire time looking excitedly out at the changing landscape far below her. She was too excited to be frightened. She had never left her city, let alone her country.
In the bustling airport of Cairo, she bought another expensive ticket this time with her older sister’s passport. Cautiously, she went into a store in the airport and bought a few items of clothing. A long, flowing skirt and a man’s button-up shirt found their way into her bag. Unfortunately, she understood no word of the foreign language, but she managed to give the right payment. In a bathroom stall she changed into the clothes. It felt horribly immodest, but she wrapped the headpiece back around her hair. Muniya looked in the mirror and was startled to see her face for once staring back at her instead of shrouds revealing only her dark eyes. Ducking her head, she tried to blend in with the crowd and she knew that no one from home other than her immediate family would even begin to recognize her.
Her plane ticket sent Muniya to Paris. From what she saw as she wandered around the airport, France is entirely different from her homeland. The smuggled glances at contraband materials in no way prepared her for the land of the infidels. Everything was so strange, from the clothes to the sounds to the smells. Surely, these people could not be from France; they were all so different! A woman with most of her legs showing bumped into her, as she held the hand of a young girl in similar garb. Muniya stared after them. However, looking around, she found that this was not all unique. So many different types of clothes stood out, each making their own statement of personality. A young boy ran past her as she headed again to the ticket counter.
She was flying to Rio de Janeiro this time. Allah willing, these stops would throw off her followers. For she knew that there was no doubt that they would follow her. Pride and vengeance demanded it. As she sat on a padded chair, waiting, she could not help but feel tired. Due to the time changes and hours in the air, she had no idea what time it was, or even what day. Her new clothes were gritty with sweat and dust and her stomach rumbled angrily. She peered inside her in the paper shopping bag that now contained the rest of her burqa and the remainder of her stolen money. She had changed it into euros before she bought the last ticket and would have to change it into American money when she arrived in the U.S. Her layover was for five hours, so she figured that she had time to eat while waiting. The food was very strange, but it tasted good to an empty stomach and she ate it quickly. She dozed back in the chair before she boarded the next plane.
Ten hours later she finally made it to the hated land, the enemy of all good Muslims. Finally out of airports, Muniya stared at the massive city before her. She could have never imagined how the tall skyscrapers pierced the bright blue sky. They glinted in the bright afternoon sun like the jewels in the necklace. The air was full of smells, so different from the city back home. That was no longer home, though; that part of her life was over. Warily, she stepped to the street and hailed a cab as well as she could.
A yellow and black-checkered cab pulled up next to her with a screech. Swallowing, Muniya sat gingerly inside. She had never been inside a cab before and was uncertain about what to do. The driver in front looked back at her, taking in her grubby clothes and frightened face. He was pale with curly blonde hair. “Where to, lady?” he asked with a smile.
Muniya frowned. She knew that she had to get a visa to stay in the country, her real passport would only keep her here for a few weeks. In practiced, yet stiff English, she asked, “Can you take me visa?”
“Huh? You want to go where?” The man looks back at her in the rearview mirror as she twists her hands searching for the right words.
“I want . . . to stay in America. Visa?” Muniya leans forward hopefully.
“Oh, yeah, sure, lady. I can take you to the government building down on twenty-third. I’m sure they can help you there.” He grins at her, glad to understand her.
Though being alone in a car with a strange man would have made her at the least uncomfortable before, Muniya felt so relieved and grateful that she did not care what her family would have said about what about her.
As she stared out the window at the unfolding sights, Muniya was startled when the driver spoke to her again. “Where you from?”
“Oh! Arabia,” she hoped that she had understood the question.
“Never been there. Why’d you decide to come over here?” He honestly appeared interested and Muniya appraised his open face and felt that she could trust him.
“I am running... from my family.”
His face was serious as he looked back at her. “Running away? What’d they do to you. Beat you or somethin’?”
Muniya frowned, not understanding the meaning behind his words. Oh, she wished she had studied that book harder!
He saw the furrows of confusion cross her face and said with a laugh, “guess you don’t understand all that much yet, do ya?” Muniya smiled politely. He was silent for a few moments as he wove through traffic and Muniya carefully watched his face for any signs of demonic possession.
He looked back and caught her staring and winked at her. Muniya blushed and turned her head. How she had changed! Here she was staring at a complete stranger with her face altogether uncovered. What shame! She looked out at this new land before her and decided that perhaps she could change too. She wanted to become an American, while staying herself. With a sigh, she realized that she would have to wait to find out if it was even possible. They drove for several miles and Muniya felt her heart lifting as she saw the hordes of people. Surely, there was no way her father and brothers could find her in this mass of people. She would finally be safe, safe and free.
The cab driver dropped her off and she shyly paid him. “Hey, sis, you got a place to stay? Here, take this,” he handed her a small piece of paper with numbers written on it, “this is my sister’s number, you call her if you need anything. I don’t usually do this with complete strangers, but you look like you could use a friend in this big town. I’ll tell her about you.” Muniya didn’t understand the majority of the words, but she understood the gesture and her heart hurt in her chest.
She raised her hands in a blessing and he winked again at her. With a small smile on her face, Muniya turned toward the building. Within it lied her new life and freedom. She walked up the steps and felt the wind blow, soothing her face.