Heellooo! How are you all? :D I've activated my ask again, I won't enable comments just yet. It's still disabled for now, mabe sab on my posts, I have my young readers to think about. xx
I've also started putting "previously.." just to remind you guys of what happened, I'll stop adding it on once I start posting daily again *enshallah this happens, I miss the old days too when I could post 2 chapters to 4 chapters a day*.
Feedback: www.ask.fm/vieblogue
I censored all the swear words, trying to be more manly since I'm a guy in this story. :::
This won't be a long story by the way.
-
Previously in Chapter 9.
"Thari?" The man's nervous voice was too familiar, it caused my head to shoot up from my phone and my eyes landed on the two customers standing in front of me.
The woman in her thirties had dark auburn hair, showing off her Lebanese beauty. Her eyes were rimmed with eyeliner and her lips pasted with dark red lipstick. She was holding onto a tall man with salt and pepper hair, with wrinkled dark eyes.
The same wrinkled eyes that I happened to look into for 18 years.
My father.
-
"Yuba?" My voice croaked out in disbelief. Who the hell was the woman who was with him? And why the f*ck is she holding onto him like that?
"Uhm, ent tishtighl ehni?" My father's eyes filled with stress, he slowly moved away from the gingered hair woman, ignoring her confused expression.
"Shnu, neseit?" I challenged him, my fury building up inside.
"Yalla guys, see you tomorrow!" Layal's voice chirped behind me, she stopped once she noticed the tension in the atmosphere between my Dad and I.
"Um." Layal tensed up behind me. Fffh, shtabe hathe b3ad?
"Na3am?" I replied to Layal in a harsh tone.
"You're blocking the way, ma agder a6ouf." Layal said in a polite tone, her eyes widening for a second, surprised at my sudden behaviour.
"Oh. Asif." I sighed and took a step the left so Layal could pass and leave the counter.
6ale3t 7aritik eb Layal, ehya shsawat? Obouk ely ga3d yikhoun omik, Layal malha sheghl!
I tried to calm myself down but I couldn't, my anger was taking over me and the tiny voice in my head was fading slowly. I couldn't believe it, how could he betray my own mother? This explained the late nights at work, this explained his cold behaviour with my mom. It explained everything.
And it made me hate him even more.
"Mnu hathe?" I shot my eyes towards the woman with the ginger hair. My father looked rigid, unable to find an answer.
"Ha yuba?" I challenged him even more, I pressed my fingers against the cool counter in front of me, my knuckles turning white.
"Heba, digeega shway." My dad nudged the woman besides him, she understood what he meant and swiftly left the cafe in a hurry, her heels click clacking over the cafe's marble floors.
"Thari.." My dad began, his deep voice full of confidence. I knew what was coming, a bunch of excuses. A bunch of lies. A bunch of bullsh*t that I didn't want to hear.
"La2 mabe a3arif." I snapped at my father, leaving the counter and grabbing my stuff, ready to leave. I couldn't take his sh*t.
"Thari!" My father bellowed, his voice nearly close to yelling. A bunch of the workers started staring at us.
Legafa, shyaboun hathoula b3ad? Fffh.
"Wai3, wakher 3ane bas." I pushed my father to the side, not caring about my inappropriate attitude and actions. He didn't bother saying anything else, he let me leave the cafe without another word.
I bet all he wanted was to me to leave so he could go back to his date with his wh*re.
I climbed into my car and drove off as fast as I could. I loved speed and the adrenaline rush that hit me whenever I went past the speed limit. I was furious, hurt and shocked. It was a bad combo. A really bad one.
I forced myself to go slower, I couldn't risk into getting a car accident. I wasn't that stupid. Once I was back home, I noticed that my Mom's car was gone.
Phew, I didn't have to face her now.
I didn't know what to do. Should I even tell Mom about what I saw today? Or keep quiet and not hurt her? I trudged into the house, throwing the car keys over one of the tables in the living rooms before hurrying upstairs.
"La2, Thari lal7een ma rad. Laish? La2 ma y9eer!" My sister's voice was so loud, I heard every word as I stood outside of my room. Her room was right next to mine and the walls in this house was thin. I became suspicious, who the hell was she talking to?
"B3dain ra7 yi3a9ib, umbay digeega a3ti8id tawa rad el bait, bye bye bye, ush bas bye!" Wath7a's voice was full of panic and fear.
She couldn't be speaking to a guy, could she? She's just 13, or was she 14? Madry, I keep forgetting her age, she looks 11 to me with her puny body.
I pushed her oak door open, entering her white furnished bedroom. There were dozens of flower decorations everywhere, one huge canopy bed was in the middle and there was a window, letting the sun fill up the bright room.
"Wath7a, laish sakaitay el telephone faj2a chithe?" I asked in a suspicious tone. Wath7a was on her white sheeted bed, wearing pj trousers and a comfy looking grey shirt. Her hair was let loose, her curls wild, framing her baby face.
"Uhm-m.. ma kent 3la el telephone." Wath7a lied, her words stuttering. The mobile wasn't in her hand, it was besides her but it was obvious that she was lying.
"La etchathbeen 3lay! 3a6eene telephonech al7een." My curiosity was causing me to think the worst of her. Did she have a boyfriend now? Was this a new trend with these girls these days?
Y3ne as if you're innocent Thari.
I ignored the petty little voice in my head. I charged over to where Wath7a was and grabbed her blackberry before she could hide it or delete anything.
I was going to check her bbm chats later, first I wanted to check who she called.
"Shnu el pass code?" I asked Wath7a in a stern voice, her face full of fright.
"Uhm." Wath7a stuttered, her fingers drumming over her legs nervously.
"Wath7a, what's the pass code?!" I nearly yelled at her. Her eyes were full of tears, seeing her this way made my heart broke. This was because of me but I only cared so much for her. I didn't want anyone to break the innocence of my little sister.
"3201." Wath7a murmured, keeping her eyes in front of her. I pressed my fingers over the buttons and typed the number. I clicked on "Last Calls" and looked for the a**hole's number. The a**hole who bothered to call my sister and ruin her, brainwash her childish mind.
But what I found shocked me. Made me speechless.
There was no guy.
No a**hole to shout or yell at.
Wath7a's blackberry slipped out of my fingers, dropping down to her fluffy bed once I was gobsmacked with what I just read.
Last Call: Manal Al-X.
I've also started putting "previously.." just to remind you guys of what happened, I'll stop adding it on once I start posting daily again *enshallah this happens, I miss the old days too when I could post 2 chapters to 4 chapters a day*.
Feedback: www.ask.fm/vieblogue
I censored all the swear words, trying to be more manly since I'm a guy in this story. :::
This won't be a long story by the way.
-
Previously in Chapter 9.
"Thari?" The man's nervous voice was too familiar, it caused my head to shoot up from my phone and my eyes landed on the two customers standing in front of me.
The woman in her thirties had dark auburn hair, showing off her Lebanese beauty. Her eyes were rimmed with eyeliner and her lips pasted with dark red lipstick. She was holding onto a tall man with salt and pepper hair, with wrinkled dark eyes.
The same wrinkled eyes that I happened to look into for 18 years.
My father.
-
"Yuba?" My voice croaked out in disbelief. Who the hell was the woman who was with him? And why the f*ck is she holding onto him like that?
"Uhm, ent tishtighl ehni?" My father's eyes filled with stress, he slowly moved away from the gingered hair woman, ignoring her confused expression.
"Shnu, neseit?" I challenged him, my fury building up inside.
"Yalla guys, see you tomorrow!" Layal's voice chirped behind me, she stopped once she noticed the tension in the atmosphere between my Dad and I.
"Um." Layal tensed up behind me. Fffh, shtabe hathe b3ad?
"Na3am?" I replied to Layal in a harsh tone.
"You're blocking the way, ma agder a6ouf." Layal said in a polite tone, her eyes widening for a second, surprised at my sudden behaviour.
"Oh. Asif." I sighed and took a step the left so Layal could pass and leave the counter.
6ale3t 7aritik eb Layal, ehya shsawat? Obouk ely ga3d yikhoun omik, Layal malha sheghl!
I tried to calm myself down but I couldn't, my anger was taking over me and the tiny voice in my head was fading slowly. I couldn't believe it, how could he betray my own mother? This explained the late nights at work, this explained his cold behaviour with my mom. It explained everything.
And it made me hate him even more.
"Mnu hathe?" I shot my eyes towards the woman with the ginger hair. My father looked rigid, unable to find an answer.
"Ha yuba?" I challenged him even more, I pressed my fingers against the cool counter in front of me, my knuckles turning white.
"Heba, digeega shway." My dad nudged the woman besides him, she understood what he meant and swiftly left the cafe in a hurry, her heels click clacking over the cafe's marble floors.
"Thari.." My dad began, his deep voice full of confidence. I knew what was coming, a bunch of excuses. A bunch of lies. A bunch of bullsh*t that I didn't want to hear.
"La2 mabe a3arif." I snapped at my father, leaving the counter and grabbing my stuff, ready to leave. I couldn't take his sh*t.
"Thari!" My father bellowed, his voice nearly close to yelling. A bunch of the workers started staring at us.
Legafa, shyaboun hathoula b3ad? Fffh.
"Wai3, wakher 3ane bas." I pushed my father to the side, not caring about my inappropriate attitude and actions. He didn't bother saying anything else, he let me leave the cafe without another word.
I bet all he wanted was to me to leave so he could go back to his date with his wh*re.
I climbed into my car and drove off as fast as I could. I loved speed and the adrenaline rush that hit me whenever I went past the speed limit. I was furious, hurt and shocked. It was a bad combo. A really bad one.
I forced myself to go slower, I couldn't risk into getting a car accident. I wasn't that stupid. Once I was back home, I noticed that my Mom's car was gone.
Phew, I didn't have to face her now.
I didn't know what to do. Should I even tell Mom about what I saw today? Or keep quiet and not hurt her? I trudged into the house, throwing the car keys over one of the tables in the living rooms before hurrying upstairs.
"La2, Thari lal7een ma rad. Laish? La2 ma y9eer!" My sister's voice was so loud, I heard every word as I stood outside of my room. Her room was right next to mine and the walls in this house was thin. I became suspicious, who the hell was she talking to?
"B3dain ra7 yi3a9ib, umbay digeega a3ti8id tawa rad el bait, bye bye bye, ush bas bye!" Wath7a's voice was full of panic and fear.
She couldn't be speaking to a guy, could she? She's just 13, or was she 14? Madry, I keep forgetting her age, she looks 11 to me with her puny body.
I pushed her oak door open, entering her white furnished bedroom. There were dozens of flower decorations everywhere, one huge canopy bed was in the middle and there was a window, letting the sun fill up the bright room.
"Wath7a, laish sakaitay el telephone faj2a chithe?" I asked in a suspicious tone. Wath7a was on her white sheeted bed, wearing pj trousers and a comfy looking grey shirt. Her hair was let loose, her curls wild, framing her baby face.
"Uhm-m.. ma kent 3la el telephone." Wath7a lied, her words stuttering. The mobile wasn't in her hand, it was besides her but it was obvious that she was lying.
"La etchathbeen 3lay! 3a6eene telephonech al7een." My curiosity was causing me to think the worst of her. Did she have a boyfriend now? Was this a new trend with these girls these days?
Y3ne as if you're innocent Thari.
I ignored the petty little voice in my head. I charged over to where Wath7a was and grabbed her blackberry before she could hide it or delete anything.
I was going to check her bbm chats later, first I wanted to check who she called.
"Shnu el pass code?" I asked Wath7a in a stern voice, her face full of fright.
"Uhm." Wath7a stuttered, her fingers drumming over her legs nervously.
"Wath7a, what's the pass code?!" I nearly yelled at her. Her eyes were full of tears, seeing her this way made my heart broke. This was because of me but I only cared so much for her. I didn't want anyone to break the innocence of my little sister.
"3201." Wath7a murmured, keeping her eyes in front of her. I pressed my fingers over the buttons and typed the number. I clicked on "Last Calls" and looked for the a**hole's number. The a**hole who bothered to call my sister and ruin her, brainwash her childish mind.
But what I found shocked me. Made me speechless.
There was no guy.
No a**hole to shout or yell at.
Wath7a's blackberry slipped out of my fingers, dropping down to her fluffy bed once I was gobsmacked with what I just read.
Last Call: Manal Al-X.
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