Present Day
I lounge in the back of an airplane, very much awake and alert despite the snoozing passengers around me. I couldn't be bothered less by the length of the flight. A tattered book rests on my lap as I stare out the window. There isn't anything but billowing clouds as far as the eye can see, but I watch them with as much enthusiasm as one would with a good movie. A glimpse of the dry, rolling hills of my destination comes into view, inflating my excitement to a whole new level.
I bounce anxiously, accidentally bumping into the man next to me. He wakes up with a jump and shoots me a dirty look, but frankly, I don't care. I lean over. "So, what are you flying to Saudi Arabia for?"
The man shifts uncomfortably. "I'm going on business," he answers shortly.
"Oh, that's cool." I twiddle my thumbs and the man closes his eyes again. My stomach bubbles with excitement to the point where it's almost painful. The silence amplifies this unease to an unbearable point. "If you're going on business, why aren't you in business class?" I laugh at my sad attempt at a joke, but the man scowls.
"What about you?" he inquires, his tone heavily implying that he's really only asking because he feels he has to.
"Oh, I'm only passing through."
The man crinkles his face in confusion. "You're passing through Saudi Arabia?"
"Yep!"
"Where... where exactly are you going, then?"
"I'm going to Yemen."
"Yemen?"
"Mm hmm, but I have to go through Saudi Arabia because, like, all the war and violent crime and stuff makes it so that you can't really fly into the country." I offer the man a bright smile, but I'm met with another uncomfortable silence. A brutal moment passes, and I cringe internally.
"Why would you ever want to go there?"
I clear my throat uncomfortably. "Um, I'm doing humanitarian work. My school's counselor suggested that I need some direction and that humanitarian work might be exactly what I need." I clear my throat. "Or something like that."
The man blinks. "I don't think that going to Yemen was what he meant."
"Not what she meant," I interject, but the man dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
"You can't go to Yemen by yourself. What are you, 16?"
I scowl. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's being patronized. "Actually, I'm 19."
The man shakes his head. "Big difference," he mutters.
I purse my lips. "I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much." The man shrugs and turns away. He closes his eyes, and it's evident that the two of us are both more annoyed than we were before our conversation.
...
I stand in the middle of a giant crowd, oblivious to my surroundings. The passengers getting off the plane shuffle and push past me as I ogle at the people that are already bustling about. There are a million sounds, a million smells, a million foreign faces. I've never been out of New York before, and though a bustling mass of strangers is not unfamiliar, the busy airport seems like it's in an entirely different world.
My heart aches in my chest, homesick for my mother. I open my phone and snap a picture to send back home. My parents would love to get out of the city, but we barely had enough money to get me here. I clutch the cold surface to my chest and remind myself to be grateful. I do my best to swallow my fear. How many people get an opportunity like this?
I pocket my phone and take off, tugging my hijab tighter around my face. Strangers are averting their eyes- a sure sign of judgment of the loose strand of hair that somehow escaped the tight wrap I achieved before taking off in New York.
I duck into the nearest bathroom and emerge a couple minutes later with my hair tightly secured under a black head covering. It's a bit more modest than the brightly printed hijab I usually wear, but I don't want any extra attention- or trouble from strangers.
My heart races, and I silently scold myself. I've never had any issues with flying under the radar before. Why should now be any different? Maybe it's all in my head. No one's really staring. It's not like I have "I'm about to do something illegal" in shiny neon letters plastered across my back. I'm going to be fine. I still hunch over and hurry along. It's better to be safe than sorry.
...
Getting into Yemen shouldn't be a problem. Before I left the city, I planned everything out to the smallest detail, starting with a big fat lie to my parents. As far as they know, today is my first day learning about a country where Muslim culture is integral to its identity. According to them, I'm abroad on a trip to gain skills and memories that will last me a lifetime in Saudi Arabia. I have a feeling that if they knew I was sneaking into Yemen, they may not have funded the trip. They were already on the fence about letting me leave home at all. It's just that I don't feel like I can make as much of an impact here as I could in Yemen. I want to help people.
I call a taxi as I step out of the airport. To my relief, we arrive at the nearest hotel to the border that I could find without incident. I bid the driver goodbye and pretend to approach the hotel until he's out of sight. The whole ordeal goes smoother than anyone could have hoped.
However, this next part of my adventure is a bit more daunting. I need to hike to get across the border. I packed light for the trip, and I've been training for months. Relying on prayer, talent, and practice is risky, but it hasn't failed me yet. I stoop down once more to check the contents of my bag. It's going to be a long trip, and I don't want to take any more risks than I already am.
...
There's no reason to ever be ashamed of who you are, but you should always protect yourself in any way you can. She's constantly telling me that my powers are my business and my business only. That is, at least, until the world is ready for me. She's right that I need to keep quiet to some extent; I think that it's a crime to keep my powers a secret when I have such powerful help to offer. I'm going to start small with some underground work in a country that's deprived of something so vital. Water. All I'm doing is digging wells. I'm going to an impoverished and war-torn country to dig wells. I shiver in an attempt to shake away my doubts. I've got this.
I crouch down in the dirt in front of the tall, chain link fence, my hand on the earth. I feel it. I listen to it with every fiber of my being. The particles of dust speak to me. I'm just getting ready to make it listen to me, move according to my will, part for me like Moses and the Red Sea. But then it happens. The roar. My head snaps up, and I lose my connection. A small dot grows larger in the distance, hardly distinguishable from the dull, dry landscape around it. My stomach drops.
The mystery creature on the horizon releases another ferocious roar, sending tingles up and down my spine despite the heat of the sun beating down on my heavily-layered back. I return my focus to the ground and place my hand in the dirt with a new sense of urgency. I try my best to regain focus even though the ground has begun to shake from the source of my impending doom.
I want so badly to sneak a glance at whatever is coming, but my instincts scream for me to run away. I have to cross the border. I don't know if the fence will even offer any protection, but I don't have any other options. I close my eyes and try to focus, but my connection with the earth is gone. It resists me.
I have no idea what the creature is that's on my tail, so my natural response when I see it is to scream at the top of my lungs. I think that it's a pretty fair reaction considering I've never seen a lion the size of an elephant with a human head and a spiky tail. Its face is a trip to the uncanny valley, and its paws are the size of serving platters with dagger-sized claws to match.
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I rise and take off in the opposite direction, abandoning my backpack in a swirl of dust. "I come to Yemen all the way from New York City to do a good thing and I'm hounded by a friggin' Sphinx on steroids!" I manage through my gasps for breath. I pause, exhausted, and turn around.
The beast is right on my heels and advancing quickly. I bite my lip nervously. I probably should be more surprised that I'm being chased by a giant lion/scorpion/human being hybrid, but I'm honestly not shocked at all. I'm more astounded by the fact that I've never encountered something like this before. I've had my powers as long as I can remember, and I've always had the suspicion that there were other strange things besides me out there.
I kneel and try to get a feel for the earth beneath my feet. I feel it begin to respond to my request, and it almost feels as if it's growing warm under my fingertips. My foe is about 50 feet away when the ground begins to move. I summon all my strength and draw two walls of crumbling earth on either side of me.
The monster stops in its tracks and looks at me hesitantly as if it wasn't expecting me to fight back. "You aren't what I envisioned when I heard that I might run into border patrol here," I declare, trying my best to not let my tremors present themselves in my voice. I stare into its unsettling eyes. They have a green tint to them, and they don't seem quite human. I sneer at them, let out a mighty battle cry, and hurtle the walls of dirt at the monster with all my might. It hits the beast square between the eyes, and it stumbles backwards. I let out a whoop of victory. "Yes! Yes!" The creature takes another step back, dazed but unharmed. I feel my face fall, and I tense up, ready to bolt.
An inhumanly wide smile spreads across the beast's face and its giant eyes roll back in its head. I feel my chest heave as I raise a defensive hand. "Nice... kitty." The monster takes a step forward and opens its mouth wider than what should be possible, revealing three rows of sporadically placed teeth that resemble broken glass. I feel a terrified scream escape my lungs and I turn around to sprint away, chucking balls of earth over my shoulder as I run.
Each one hits my opponent but seems to annoy it more than anything. Its massive tail comes into view as I drop a boulder sized ball on its head. A cluster of wickedly sharp spikes sit on the end, and they glisten menacingly in the sun.
A drop of green liquid drips off of one and onto the ground. The dirt sizzles and turns black at the area of contact. I swear under my breath. The monster jerks its tail forwards, and a spike soars through the air and impales the ground right next to my feet. Another flies towards my face, and I leap to the side with a yelp. This only seems to encourage the monster, and it picks up speed. My heart is racing with adrenaline and fear, but I've had enough.
I stand my ground. The creature screeches to a halt, and its ugly features almost taunt me as if to say, giving up so soon? I scream boldly in its face, a direct challenge. I rub my toe into the dirt for better footing. The sensation washes over me like in the movies when something intense is about to happen and everything moves in slow motion.
The beast charges forward and I spread my hands apart, throw my shoulders back, and stomp my foot as a blood-curling scream escapes my lungs. The ground underneath the monster splits open with a deafening, crack, and my body convulses violently with the effort. The giant creature slides backwards into the chasm I created. I slump to the ground, a watery grin as proof of my satisfaction at the panicked look on its hideous features. It begins to slip backwards, desperately clawing at the dust. I pull myself to my feet and edge around the giant crevice in the direction of my bag, grateful to be alive.
I begin to run away, but halt when I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. I glance back as the world begins to spin. The monster clings to the edge of the chasm, triumph plastered all over its ugly face. A giant spike is so far into my shoulder that I'm certain the tip is nearly all the way through to the front of my body. My thoughts become fuzzy, and my vision blurs. The last thing I can gather before falling forwards into the dirt is the monster's gigantic paws sliding over the edge of its final resting place and the earth rumbling as it swallows the hellish creature.
...
Author's note
I decided to include some art in this chapter! The drawing used isn't exactly how I imagined the manticore, but it's what I was referencing when I wrote the monster into the story.
If anyone is artistically talented and wants something to draw, you should improve the drawing of the manticore! Reimagine it as it's written. Pleaseeeeee. I would love you forever.
If you want to support me, please share the story.
