Lost

Chapter 18: Lessons with Landslides

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It has been two days since the incident, and things were almost back to normal between Salma and Zayn. Almost!

In the past two days, Salma had managed to ensure that the twenty feet rock pile at the foot of the mountain was strong and safe enough for climbing. She added reinforcements where it looked weak or just filled with loose mud. This accomplishment came largely as a result of a full stomach, and because it was the perfect excuse to avoid Mr. Zayn I'm-Not-A-Pervert- Harris. She even climbed the pile and part of the mountain to get her muscles working, and also, to figure out a rough estimate of the amount of time she would need to get to the road that she could not even see.

The day before had been eventful. An annoyed Zayn, who was left talking to the walls all day, sought to start an argument to make her life miserable. She made the mistake of saying Alhumdulillah - All praise is due to Allah, a prayer said when Muslims are grateful - while Zayn was within earshot.

And that was it, BOOM!

"What do you feel grateful for?" He scoffed after Salma explained what it meant. "Getting to live like a goat in the forest?"

"You should learn from your mistakes," she replied nonchalantly. "You had the exact attitude towards the berries, and when they were gone, you had to live off of leaves. Now that you got real food, you are back to being an ungrateful, whiny kid."

"You can't expect me to 'sing praises of the Lord' because I got to live like a goat," he muttered moodily.

"Actually, I do. You got food now. Stop complaining."

"Well, I won't. I want to get out of here. So what happens now?" Zayn asked, raising an incredulous brow. "The food we have will vanish and leaves will burn? Then what? There isn't much we can lose after that, is there?"

He let out a short, sarcastic laughter. Salma decided to stick to being silent. She had had one hell of day at the slope and he was picking on her because he had no one to keep him company. She might as well try and not give him the satisfaction, Salma figured.

"Seriously though," Zayn continued unabated, "You ought to stop fooling yourself and face reality. All this "I'm-Miss-grateful-for-everything-He-throws-at-me-or-else-He'll-punish-me" act is getting you nowhere. There is no God watching over you, and you are stuck in a forest with no way out. No one is coming to get you because everyone at home believes you are dead! You're on your own! You're suffering and will suffer more and then you just die and that's the reality of it all. Get that through your head!"

Salma quirked a brow.

"Is reality to you all that you see, or all that you wish to see?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you conveniently choose to ignore what you have, focusing too much on what you don't have."

"What I have?" he said raising his eyebrows. "Really? . . . Go on, enlist what I have?"

"For starters, you're alive," Salma began, lifting a finger as if counting. "You could have died -"

"Oh, I'm so pleased!" Zayn snapped sarcastically, "I'm alive! What the fu-

"You could have been seriously injured -"

"I am injured!"

"Not seriously." Salma pointed out as she raised another finger. "You're not blind, for example, don't have organs poking out of your body, have all your limbs in one piece. Shortly, you aren't really disabled"

"Oh my God, you've totally lost the plot!" Zayn spluttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "So if a God exists, I ought to be grateful because He didn't chop me into pieces?! Bee, come on! Are you for real?"