The wind brushed against the swaying waves as the sound of crickets filled the air. The island was at peace under the silver lining of the moon except in a house far, far away, tucked in the corner of the street was a boy clutching his stomach, groaning for dear life.
"Shh," He whispered, holding himself tightly as his stomach let out another beat.
He looked at his mother who was on the kunã asleep, and his eyes reverted towards the door.
Was he really going to do it?
His bed creaked, his eyes shifted from one spot to another before he leaped, landing on the other side of the kunã. For what felt like eons he stood still, his heart thumping, anticipating his mother to move. Only when his mother's mouth slightly opened and her snores got louder did he move, tiptoeing towards the door and creaking it open.
Ever so gently he lifted the goshi. He could feel saliva flooding his mouth as he scanned the food; plates of rihaakuru, thelulifai, and rice lay before him. It was as if they were calling for him as if it was meant to be his.
His stomach groaned, but this time, he didn't waste a second, piling the plate of rice with a spoonful of rihaakuru and thelulifai, he dug in as if he had starved for centuries.
Mmm
Halfway through the plate, he heard the sound of keys clashing against one another, he pressed himself to the wall, hoping it would pull him in as the door pushed open.
"Oh Ahmed, sit and eat, will you? "
Ahmed's father entered the house, bringing in the familiar smell of saltiness along with him. He hoisted a ball of foil onto the table, revealing crisp grilled fish with specs of red.
Ahmed's saliva glands seemed to malfunction as he watched a piece of flesh break apart at his father's touch.
"Want some?"
Ahmed vigorously nodded.
"Then sit and eat," His father pointed at the chair.
"But, but" Taking a glance at the sizzling fish, he couldn't help but lower himself into the hard rock seat. The second his father spared some fish onto his plate Ahmed's body seemed to automatically spring back up with a sheepish grin.
"Pis pis, your grandma told me something would happen if you stand up and eat, what was the phrase?" Ahmed's father glanced at the clock as he pulled a bone clean.
His father's eyes widened at the sight, "it's almost three in the morning Ahmed! Hurry and go to bed"
He put the goshi on the food before he adjusted his mundu and left, all while Ahmed stood there, all alone, devouring his plate of deliciousness.
It was Ahmed's lunch break, he along with his classmates scattered all over the school grounds, feasting on various snacks.
He stood next to a group when one of his friends spoke up.
"You know, you shouldn't eat while standing up"
"Tsk, who said that?"
The girl looked at his toes before she shook her head and left, joining the others as they made their way to class.
Ahmed continued munching on his pack of kudhi gulha, well, his third pack of kudhi gulha, the words she uttered escaping from his other ear.
An orange hue overlayed the island. Ahmed and his group of friends strolled through the streets, halting when their eyes caught a tree brimmed with mangoes.
Giggles and laughter echoed as they jumped, and aimed their slippers, holding their palms out to catch the fruits that met their fate.
"See you tomorrow"
The group split up, going on their own, each holding a pocket full of mangoes.
Ahmed bit into a mango when a sudden pain erupted throughout his being. He saw patches of dark flash across his face, the pain traveled past his stomach, wriggled along his leg, and shot straight to his toe. It felt as if someone had tied a lhaambu along his toe and squeezed it with all their might.
One hand clutching onto the dripping mango, and the other scraping along the walls Ahmed continued on his way home.
He could see his front door, he could see two of his front doors, it was a hand away from him when the pain prickled up. His face scrunched up, the tiny grains of sand poked him as he lost his balance.
Every breath, every movement sent jolts of pain through his body. It felt as if he was burning within. As if his legs were jello, warm, wormy jello.
"Help" Ahmed managed to scream.
Soon almost every house had heads peeking past the walls. Ahmed's mother had come running, taking his frail body into hers, as tears streamed down her face. Every once in a while she let out an excruciating scream, her orbs searching the crowd, hopelessly.
Ahmed churned, his face red, sweat dribbling down his forehead. His breath hitched as he felt the pain judder down, enveloping his toe.
The crowd gasped, and his mother's whispers of 'No' fastened their pace. He could barely see through the blur.
His big toe was growing, expanding with each second that passed. It was like an air balloon, but a toe with streaks of vein popping out.
His vision worsened, his breath quickened and blood pumped through his toe, and the last thing he remembered before darkness took over was a little girl's voice asking the crowd "Is that what happens when you eat standing up?"
