Djinn | Hakeem Guthrie (sandsmokesky) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-08-23 15:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | hakeem guthrie |
Narrative: Djinn
WHO: Hakeem Guthrie
WHEN: Early morning on Saturday, August 24th
WHAT: Hakeem's time at Xavier's comes to a close.
It didn’t make sense to call it the end of an era. Yassir would see eras. He would see centuries upon centuries. But Hakeem would never live to see an era. If the world was kind, it would let him see twenty-five. He remembered what Nasser said - took it to heart - that the war was not what it had been ten years earlier and that the likelihood of being on the frontlines was less than ever before. Hakeem tried not to think too much ahead. What would happen would happen. What he had now, what was certain, was the love of his family and his girlfriend. Days were drawing to a close much faster than he’d remembered. Kinah’s wedding was a blur when it once had been so crisp, so magical. He remembered holding Kiki’s waist and sweeping her across the dancefloor, nervous beyond compare and yet so uncaring if anyone watched or his mother and sisters gossiped under their breath. He remembered the brief conversation with Karen and her new beau, feeling no remorse, no regret for how things had ended, unconcerned of what the rest of their lives would be, but wishing her the best. It was sad, maybe, that they’d drifted that far apart, but he held his girlfriend’s hand, snuck a kiss against her neck as he whispered in her ear, and felt loved, important in a way he’d never felt before. Last night had been his final one with her. That practical voice in the back of his head told him that sleep was imperative and that showing up to boot camp on the first day about to fall asleep wouldn’t warrant the best first impression. But with her smile, her lips, her hands, her hips, he felt rejuvenated. He wanted to hold her and that moment forever, carry that night through boot camp and his first tour, and let it bring him back to her alive. And he promised her he’d be back. Today his final box was put in storage. It was not like Kinah’s things, moving from one room to another. Some boxes had gone back with his parents, most were going into storage. And there was one box in particular Hakeem had packed with Yassir in mind. His brother was his other half. How he’d lived life before his brother was beyond him, but in his heart and soul he knew there’d never be another way. There had been evenings the brothers had gone walking together, spoke of their fears for the future, of the terror of being separated. Hakeem opened himself up to his sibling in the way he’d never done with another human being. He promised him everything would be all right. This wasn’t it. This wasn’t the end of anything. This was what Allah had set before him and would be the path he would walk. He left the box outside Yassir’s door as he stood one last time in the boys’ dormitory. Hakeem said goodbye to Kinah. Kissed her cheek, held her tightly, wished her the best. Shook Nasser’s hand. Nasser was now officially the brother he’d come to know. The man gave him a secret, understanding nod. Hakeem knew no matter how worried or doubtful Kinah could come to be, he would have Nasser in his corner, supporting him and keeping his head straight. There were thanks to James, as well, who had helped him decide where he wanted to go and who he’d be. Though Emmett was not here, Hakeem thanked Allah for him. So many people treated his decision to enlist as some sort of death wish. He wasn’t walking the plank. He wasn’t on death row. Hakeem knew this was what he was meant to do. This was where life was taking him. It was a purpose. It was his purpose. Yassir stood at the door. Cautious of his wings, Hakeem hugged him like there was no tomorrow. There would be a tomorrow, but there would be less sun, less light, without his brother by him. They spoke quiet words in their mother’s language, prayed together once more, and Hakeem held onto it. “I’ll see you soon.” He gave Yassir a final squeeze before slipping out of his hold and out the doors of Xavier’s. And he meant it. It wasn’t the end of an era. It was the start of his life. - JRR Tolkein |