The truck screeched to a stop on the dirt path—an abrupt, violent halt that jolted Ababeel forward in her seat.
Habeel's entire body trembled, breath dragging in and out as if every inhale was a fight he was losing. His hands shook on the steering wheel, then slammed down—once, twice—each strike echoing through the trees like a breaking dam.
Habeel (voice gravel, barely holding together):
"Get. Out."
Ababeel froze.
Her eyes widened at the raw fury—at the storm ripping through him. She'd seen him irritated, frustrated, sarcastic…
Never this.
She whispered, shaky:
"W–why?"
He grabbed her wrist—not harshly, but urgently—and pressed the gun into her palm.
Habeel: "I need a minute. So please GET OUT!"
The roar in his voice made the air vibrate.
Ababeel stumbled out, her legs suddenly weak. She reached a nearby tree, clutched the bark like it was the only solid thing in her world, and vomited—her body releasing fear, guilt, shock all at once.
Inside the truck, the little girl stared at Habeel—her big eyes uncertain, her fingers sticky with chocolate, her lips smeared with brown like a tiny raccoon.
Habeel blinked rapidly in the mirror, tearing at his own reflection as questions hammered inside him:
Why did she grab the gun?
Why does she see danger in me?
What did I do?
What am I?
The girl watched… then reached out.
Her small hand wrapped around his finger again—trusting, warm, innocent.
He broke.
His breath hitched, and he gently lifted her out of the seat, setting her on the dirt. Then he knelt in front of her, shoulders slumped, tears falling freely.
Habeel (voice cracking):
"Am I a threat to you, too?"
The girl blinked at him, confused—nose twitching like a startled rabbit.
He let out a hollow laugh.
"You don't understand, do you…"
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Softly: "What's your name? If you trust me… tell me your name."
She tried—her lips moving, breath puffing—but no sound formed. Just those small noises she always made:
Nagh… megh…
He exhaled, defeated.
Standing abruptly, he turned toward Ababeel—who wiped her mouth, still unsteady.
His voice was low, wounded:
"You'll be better off with her. Don't follow me."
And then he walked away.
No destination.
Just distance.
Just escape from himself.
The girl watched him go… then tugged urgently at Ababeel's hand—pulling, insisting, almost pleading with her tiny strength. Her gestures were frantic, her face worried.
She was telling Ababeel in the only way she could:
He's alone. He left. He's hurting. He's gone. Go.
A Soft Crackle… Then a Shift
The crackling of a fireplace replaces the forest sounds.
Ababeel blinked, suddenly back in the warm, lamplit therapy library—lying on the plush sofa as the memories recoiled into the shadows.
A young man beside her leaned forward, fascinated.
He listened as every piece mattered.
Therapist:
"I understand where Habeel was coming from… but how did you bring him back? How did you fix everything?"
Ababeel shrugged, gaze drifting toward the dancing firelight.
"I didn't."
A small smile tugged at her lips.
"The girl made us realise how much we needed each other to survive."
She inhaled deeply.
"We just… followed the path he left."
Back to the Past — The Search
"HABEEL!!"
Her voice cracked in the forest air.
The girl ran ahead of her, small feet pounding the dirt as they followed his trail—through twisting paths, across tall grass, until the trees opened into a breathtaking field.
A vast meadow of wildflowers.
Golden, purple, white—dancing gently under a soft breeze.
It was thick enough to hide a full-grown person if they lay down.
Ababeel's heart raced.
Then—
A tiny gasp from the girl.
She found him.
Habeel lay flat among the flowers, eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly—like he was trying to merge with the earth, trying to quiet the war inside him.
The girl sprinted toward him and flung herself onto his chest, slapping his cheeks with her tiny hands.
Tap. Tap. TAP TAP TAP.
Habeel twitched his nose, his eyes scrunching and blinking at the relentless assault.
He groaned softly, turning his head.
The girl made distressed noises—
"Nagh! Megh! Mmmh!"
—terrified he was dead.
He cracked.
A smile tugged at his lips—small, tired, but real.
He opened his eyes.
Ababeel exhaled the breath she'd been holding and rushed toward them.
Habeel sat up, gently pinning the girl down as she squirmed.
He tickled her sides.
She exploded into laughter—pure, bright, ringing across the field like bells.
Her small hands slapped wildly against the flowers as she shrieked with glee.
Habeel's face softened—transformed—lit with warmth Ababeel had never seen before.
A true smile.
A peaceful one.
A human one.
Ababeel stood there, watching them, heart swelling in her chest.
If it weren't for her, she realised we would've torn each other apart.
Sometimes…
Sometimes you needed a tiny fragment of childhood innocence
to melt a mountain of anger.
And the girl—this mute, fearless, chaos-filled little creature—
had done exactly that.