Chapter VII: INSECURITY

A faint, harsh breeze traversed along the land, overshadowed by grey clouds that covered the daytime’s sky. Atop the lonesome hill, The Family’s estate stood quiet, despite the presence of its inhabitants. It had been barely a week ever since their last grievous trial had come to be, yet their spirits were as glum as they were on the day of the incident. Feelings of guilt and anxiety vibrated amidst the desolate walls, eyes staring low at their plates filled with warm soup. They were all gathered together at the table, but their silence was enough to maintain this sensation of loneliness and desperation. Sarah’s downcast voice tore through the deafening silence. 

Sarah: “(low-tone) Come on, everyone. Eat, otherwise it will become cold.” 

Abraham: “Yeah… we should.”

At the edge of the table, Athan stared at everyone, concerned as to why they were acting so hazy. He wasn’t willing to ignore their well-being, but at the same time, he felt largely powerless.

Athan: “Mother is right. It would be a shame to let her effort go to waste.”

Isaac averted his gaze from the setting, his lips trembling with simmering agitation. Seeing that the situation was becoming more uncomfortable by the second, Ishmael took initiative. 

Ishmael: “Athan is right. We mustn't let our feelings take over. Besides, what’s done is done, and that’s it.”

Isaac broke his silence at last, a disturbed demeanor painted on his face.

Isaac: “(vexed) How is it that you are so calm about this? Are we simply just going to forget everything that went down?”

Ishmael: “(firm) Like I said, there is nothing more we can do about it, all is in the past.”

Issac felt that his message wasn’t quite understood, his warnings ignored. He took a different, angrier approach. Though he had buried his rage long ago, this was not a laughing matter. 

Isaac: “When did you become so stern, huh? (sardonic) Weren’t you always the joker?”

Ishmael: “You weren’t the only one that was scarred, brother.”

Isaac: “Then, why? Why are we acting as if all is well, when it clearly isn't!?”

Ishmael: “This matter has long concluded, brother. You’re simply trying to reignite ashes.”

Isaac: “I have grown weary of your attitude, that goes for you all! Not only do you keep your mouths shut, you have the nerve to continue as if everything is normal!”

Isaac’s rising fury was suddenly interrupted by the audible slurping of soup. All heads turned towards the direction of the culprit, who was -of course- no other than Athan. Amidst the argument, he began feasting without paying attention to the growing tension. Noticing the gazes fall upon his being, he lowered his spoon, licking the side of his mouth to clean the residue.

Athan: “(confused) What? Did I do something?”

Isaac: “(annoyed) Ugh...”

Disregarding the matter at hand, Issac stood up and made haste outdoors. He was reverting back to his old, scornful self. And that… he despised. Sarah glared at the empty seat of where her son once resided, before returning her crestfallen look towards her husband. 

Abraham: “(troubled sigh) Let’s eat.”

With solemn mood, everyone attempted to gulp down the stew, though it would seem that its taste was far bitter than they would want it to be.

Athan: “What about-”

Abraham stopped the boy's sentence with calm demeanour.

Abraham: “He’ll come. Don’t think about it.”

Discouraged from the incident, Athan lowered his head and continued eating. His food however, no longer felt pleasant.

He too… tasted the bitterness emanating from within.