Death passes from here

Author's name: Abdu Khal Publishing house: Al-Jamal Publications for Publishing and Distribution Year of publication: 2003 Literary classification: Novel Brief about the book: "My father was chained in the same seat he sat on, and when he saw his wife writhing under the foot of his opponent, he pulled the seat, and the black one trembled, and he shouted at one of the guards who did not hesitate to throw his heavy stick on my father's back. Then he shouted at his wife: Oh woman.. do not humiliate me.. go out or you are divorced.. the black one’s laughter rose loudly and shook his ribs: No.. no, I do not accept what is hated of the lawful.. and he did not say more than this sentence, but he signaled to his servants to take us to another room of the big fortress, and there they tied us up.. That night I felt the severity of being weak and broken, unable to breathe as you wish, even a sigh requires you to be subjected to torment... That night I felt there are feet walking on our bodies.. it was a bitter constriction passing through my small throat as I heard my mother praying to God and crying with passion and weakness.. I sensed her that night, brought me close to her, placed me on her lap, and whenever a sudden movement from outside approached, I curled around her to hear her heart beating almost breaking.. That night, everything inside me woke up: fear, anger, the desire to brutalize, the desire to beg for mercy, and the desire to die. With the first rays of dawn.. one of my father's servants entered and led us in front of him to join my father chained with iron, and the guards and slaves pushed us forward.. the black one walked at the front riding his white mule, and the procession continued to escort us towards the dome of the ruler of the court. I was surprised to find the villagers gathered in a large circle around the dome, and that circle was broken with a gap through which we entered, and they pulled us, me and my mother, not far from my father, who was brought forward until he was directly in front of the dome. The black one stood as a speaker, angry. I did not understand what he said, but I felt it in his most intense state of boiling, for his words sent sparks of fire, falling over the heads that sank into submission and obeyed his decision... As soon as he finished his speech, he leaned on two of his slaves, dismounted from his mule, and approached my chained father, whose hands were stiff on his body, and when he was completely close, he raised his thumb high and embedded it into my father's right eye, blood splattered, and it hit his face and beard. Yet, that did not prevent him from deepening his finger to gouge out that wide eye.. My father's scream was deep and heavy... Then I felt that birds flew high and far so they wouldn't hear his moans.. Suddenly, his voice calmed and faded, and he fainted. That wide eye remained in the hand of the black one, who did not hesitate to raise it high in front of the villagers, then placed it under his foot, trampled on it, and walked away smiling!! The crowd dispersed, and only her blood and the dirt stuck to her remained near my father's eye, and I and my mother and my father's thrown body near the dome." Abdu Khal subtly reaches into oppressed souls, digging into their sorrows that almost drown the world, to drown them in the atmospheres of his novel "Death passes through here." It will not be difficult for you, as a reader, to be touched by these deeply painful phrases, and others flooded with the philosophy of pain and the philosophy of injustice. You understand them, and they stir storms of protest within you. Then, you are overwhelmed with various feelings, your eyes devouring the lines and pages, moving with the characters that the novelist depicts with precision, brilliance, and wonderful transparency. You move with them as they speak of their torments, and echoes of phrases resonate inside you; we are like this.. we know that injustice nests above our heads, so we bow to it humbly, carrying our large humps throughout life, trembling faintly, and we do not realize the weakness of this injustice until we spread our heads on the coffin when everything in us has disappeared.