Eight Months In Hell-God Helps Those Who Helps Themselves

By Mohammed Nader Fahmi

He was disappointed to know that his mother is the same mother after all these years—greedy and egoistic. She behaves like a superior race, despite being a poor woman; her only dream in life is to see all her sons working in Spain or Italy.

It was particularly a hot night in August 2010 when he received a small, sweet, significant word surrounded by mysterious details; ‘Hello’ is the magic word to activate some powers on Facebook—a short word within a magical blue continent. This word traveled through many lines where the sky would appear blue. It would be a great idea to change this continent’s climate. It’s an amazingly large world where everyone seems to live. Everyone wants to marry a British, Swedish, or American woman. More precisely, nobody wants to live in this dirty village.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley
• Release date: Jun 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463713457

Mohammed Nader Fahmi

Mohammed Nader Fahmi is a Moroccan author of contemporary fiction (born in Safi in 1975). The author of three Arabic novels; his third novel Torab Sini or Chinese Earth got a better reception and was nominated for the 2015 International Prize for Arabic Fiction, the Katara Prize for Arabic Novel, and the Morocco Book Award. His first novel Eight Months in Hell may be the beginning of a new literary movement with social, psychological, political, religious, comic, and dramatic dimensions.

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Mohammed Nader Fahmi is a Moroccan author of contemporary fiction (born in Safi in 1975). The author of three Arabic novels; his third novel Torab Sini or Chinese Earth got a better reception and was nominated for the 2015 International Prize for Arabic Fiction, the Katara Prize for Arabic Novel, and the Morocco Book Award. His first novel, Eight Months in Hell, may be the beginning of a new literary movement with social, psychological, political, religious, comic, and dramatic dimensions.

Dedication

To the furthest extent, I am ready to live in hell, but where is the girl who deserves my sacrifice? Please, if you exist and you are at present reading these words, come to me; give me a deep, penetrating love; be like the devil in my blood stream; share my dreams, thoughts, and worries but keep my heart centered on garish adoration.

I know you can emit anywhere to form a cloud, watering me. Holy wine purifies me from my cage of gloom. Then I can stand courageously in front of the mirror to know you before I know myself. My resurrection came from the underworld to die again in your arms, drenched in the honey of your lips. I am neither a legend nor a thread of smoke. I am not a superhero in a romantic novel, but I am on the ground and this is my body odor.

To whom it may concern, you should know that I am a character of this novel. Do localize my position between the lines and seek me in the folds of this book.

A special greeting to all readers across the world filled with love, peace, and respect. Maybe they will see something new and exciting in this book.

Literature gives us a detailed preview of human experiences, allowing us to connect on basic levels of desire and emotion. For that reason, I hope they share this literary experience with me and encourage me to make more efforts in order to create new novels.

Mohammed Nader Fahmi

Eight Months in Hell

Copyright © Mohammed Nader Fahmi (2018)

The right of Mohammed Nader Fahmi to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781788787963 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781788787970 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781788787987 (E-Book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2018)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd™

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Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgments

I need to say thank you to very significant words: darkness, misery, and marginalization, because they added some ambiance to my life. Thank you Mr. The Harsh Conditions, thank you Mr. The Enormous Challenges for allowing me to contribute to this important literary field. A special thanks to the candles because I learned to write almost under any circumstances by candlelight. Deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone hearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author. And all the incidents are pure invention.

Chapter One

The Human Comedy

It was the age of darkness, no season of light. Everything was going to hell; he convinced himself that his spring of hope was in a superlative degree of silent evanescence. His ambition changed into vapor and disappeared. He obviously didn’t want to believe that he was a victim. Something completely controlled him; he felt helpless, trapped, alone, isolated, and limited in his freedom—like a child. Go and come straight—like a slave. He was not sure if it’s something to do with the fact that he got bad luck, and suffered from pains and headaches through most of his life. Never in the mood to change his life but at least he realized that he did it wrong. He was dealing with a series of bad luck. At this time of his life, he was disturbed by outside pressures.

He must not come up crying, but he apparently should be sent on his way, no matter how the case unfolds. He thought that his life experiences would have worked for him before the confrontation properly began. He almost recognized his next destination and with complete trust in himself, he must do what he instinctively feels he should.

A voice said to him quietly, Oh Karim, remove yourself from the situation. So it should have been a voice of reason; it should have been a source of common sense. This sentence definitely made him smile; perhaps trying to plan out an elaborate proposal—or something similar—to surprise himself. After many years of his burial, he ought to take his chances out of this grave. He was sure that there was no other side of his life brilliant, certainly when it showed signs of escalating; he considered them to be a kind of much optimism going into his first step after his relapse.

That’s the point here; according to him, it means his future has not been written yet—no one’s has. His future is whatever he makes of it, so he will make it a good one. Another thing must be taken into consideration too. His ambition must be backed up with daily consistent action. He really needed some refreshment on the road. In the hot day, only one image established in his mind: crazy and stupid—suddenly, the inevitable fate, with his black eyes, ran close by him. He was under abnormal pressure and stress was caused by major upheavals and life events, and then by a series of minor irritations, such as feeling undervalued in his society; sometimes there are no obvious causes. Being abused or tortured by stressful events that are outside the range of normal human experience may lead him to another appropriate path. Some stress can be positive; it might make him perform better and makes him more alert, and perform better in difficult situations.

It seemed that his poor body would produce more of the so-called fight to prepare itself for any emergencies. He would need adrenaline to raise his blood pressure, increase his heart rate, and increase the