Women's Revenge

Episode Sixth

In the heart of a square drowning in chaos and noise, Arwa sat alone on the sidewalk, as if she were a stranger in an unknown world. Her clothes were torn and dirty, bearing the traces of a long journey of fatigue and disappointment. The

sun had traced its paths on her pale face, and drops of sweat were dripping from

her thin forehead. She tried with her trembling hand to protect it from the day's blazing heat, but the sun was stronger than her and her weakness. Flies buzzed around her mercilessly, bothering her as if reminding her every moment of her weakness and brokenness. Meanwhile, cars whizzed by, their faces sullen and their looks filled with contempt and indifference, as if the passersby weren't seeing a flesh-and-blood human being, but merely an extra creature on the sidewalk. The entire city seemed immersed in the chaos of a lack of security, in the post-revolutionary anarchy, where no one looked at another except with suspicion or exploitation. A simple man approached her, carrying a modest meal in his hand. There wasn't much to say on his face, but his small smile held a hint of lost mercy. He extended his hand towards her without hesitation. She raised her eyes to him, her voice coming out in a whisper, barely audible: "Thank you..." She took the food delicately, as if she feared it would disappear the next moment. At that moment, a light breeze blew, carrying with it scattered pages of revolutionary publications. The papers began to fly in the air, overhead and on the sidewalks, bearing slogans written in quick strokes: "Freedom"... "Bread, freedom, social justice." Arwa followed those papers with her eyes, contemplating them as they danced in the wind, and something strange was reflected in her gaze: a mixture of deep pain... and a small hope trying to be born from under the rubble.

Lekaa emerged from the gate of an old building housing several offices, one of which belonged to the human rights organization where she worked. She wore wide-legged pants and a simple blouse, hiding her eyes behind dark sunglasses. Above one of the balconies was a large sign that read clearly, "Human Rights Organization." She walked with steady steps toward her car parked by the sidewalk. She moved her body gracefully and got into the car, placing her hand on the steering wheel. As soon as she turned left, her eyes fell on a scene that took her breath away. There, in the middle of the square, a girl was sitting on the ground, tired and exhausted, under the scorching, unforgiving sun. Her torn clothes and sun-tanned skin made her look more like a shadow of a human than a living person. Lekaa slowly took off her glasses, as if wanting to see the scene more clearly. A look of wonder mixed with pity crossed her face, then the astonishment faded to be replaced by a look filled with compassion. She opened the car door without hesitation, got out with quick steps, and headed straight towards the girl—towards Arwa.

Ok, I'll turn Scene 16 into a literary novel: The Novel (Scene 16) Luqa walked confidently through the crowded street, crossing the road lightly, until she stopped in front of Arwa who was sitting on the sidewalk, tired and exhausted. She leaned slightly towards her, a warm smile on her lips as she said in a calm voice: "Why are you sitting like this? Do you need anything?" Arwa raised her eyes to her, her eyes wet with hidden tears that she couldn't find the courage to fall. She smiled a small, sad smile, then slowly shook her head. Luqa continued gently: "What's your name, my love?" Arwa answered in a low voice, almost fading: "Arwa." Luqa moved closer, her voice full of tenderness: "Are you waiting for someone here?" Arwa didn't answer, just shook her head again. At that moment, Laqa' gently extended her hand and said firmly, yet reassuringly, "Stand up... come with me." Arwa looked at the hand extended in front of her, then reached out her trembling hand and grabbed it like a drowning person grabs a life preserver. She stood with difficulty and walked beside Laqa', walking with hesitant but reassured steps for the first time in a long time. Together, they crossed the road and headed toward the building from which Laqa' had left minutes before. As they approached, the sign hanging on the first-floor balcony appeared. On it was written clearly: "Human Rights Foundation." Time stood still for a moment, as if Arwa was entering a new world, different from the scorching sidewalk she had left behind. Would you like the next scene to be the beginning of Arwa's entrance to the Human Rights Foundation, her first encounter with the people inside?