Le Chase Chapter 19

Hello to all my beautiful readers! :D And the best ones too, I've never seen people so understanding about me having a life and not stressing my brains out for a post, I'm forever grateful to all of you, thank you so much for everything and I hope you enjoy this post! x

I also get this question a lot: did you base Layal (appearance wise) on yourself?
No I didn't, she's a lot lighter than me (skin wise) and she has coloured eyes, her fashion style is also different, she's shorter too, the only common thing we have is the 7jab thing. :p

Chapter 20 is available, but the order of the chapters were messed up. Chapter 20 is here:
http://v-ie.blogspot.com/2012/09/le-chase-chapter-20.html

-

Previously in Chapter 18:


At the same exact moment, Layal turned her head to face me. She looked tanned today, was she wearing different kind of make up? Her large eyes gaped at me for a few seconds, in a disapproving way, she must have heard Bdour. She didn't look happy at all.

Wait wait wait.

Rewind please.

Can't wait to see you?

Layal heard it.   

Oh no she heard it.

-

 "Dude, the professor's staring." A male's voice that was poured with an American accent forced my awake. It was probably the half Lebanese, half American guy sitting next to me. My head was dug deep into the warmth comfort of my arms, my beanie probably threatening to fall off my head but my eyes felt so sticky, unable to open.

I fell asleep in class. Again.

This has been the second time I fell asleep in a lecture, I was grateful that the professors didn't nag at me or embarrass me in front of the other students but I knew for a act that the sight of me, my head down on my desk and my eyes peacefully closed, annoyed the heck out of them.

I finally forced myself up as I rubbed my eyes lazily, peeking at the bright view of the professor's circle shaped glasses and his oily hair that clung to his head. He had an amused smile on his face when he caught me waking up.

"Thari, is the class too boring for you?" His eyes stared right at me, he was definitely not one of those professors that tended to ignore my presence or not bother me about my sleeping class habits.

"N-no sir." I quickly answered.

"Good, pay attention." He kept his tone light but his words were sharped with anger.

And I did.

The day was slow, terribly slow. I even wrote a few chapters for my blog while I was in my boring classes, just to keep myself awake. I ended up writing my true story, the part with Dad marrying a second wife, the part where my ex lied to my sister so she'd make a fake blog about me, pretty much everything but I made sure to change a few things to keep people from finding out who I was.

I was ecstatic once the lecture was over with and I was heading over to my last class, passing the bleak hallways of AUM (American university of the Middle East). Before I could enter the class, I was faced by a short Bdour, stopping me out of the blue.

"Thari!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. My insides twisted around a bit, she was becoming more annoying by the second. She talked to me only a few hours ago, and she made it look like it's been months or something.

"Ahlain." I mumbled, I was still sleepy. Screw you 3abbas for waking me up so early.

"Bitiyee wela la2?" Bdour wrapped a strand of her long hair around one of her fingers, she tilted her head a bit and peaked up at me, as if a doll would.

"Ayee wein?" My memory was horrible, I couldn't even remember what the professor said ten minutes ago and exhaustion didn't help me the case.

"Starbucks Jabriya, neseit?" Bdour's left arched eyebrow shot up in disappointment.

"Oh uhm, eee 9a7." I scratched the side of my ear, eager to leave this conversation.

"Bitiyee!? I can't wait!" Bdour quickly whipped around, the ends of her hair softly hitting my chest before she walked off,  leaving me standing alone in the middle of the hallways with a blank expression on my face.

Did I say yes? I didn't think I did? That girl's messed up, I didn't mean saying yes to the outing, I meant yes to remembering it.

Great, I'm in a bigger mess now.

I turned around and I found the door to my class open, everyone was seated inside and who else was there? Layal.

And her eyes were on me, she quickly looked away when she saw me notice her gaze. Why did she have to pay attention to me when everything was going wrong? I heaved a sigh and walked into the mixed class, it wasn't a big class and there wasn't more than one professor for it so the class wasn't segregated.

I sat on the opposite end, to where the guys sat and the girls sat next to us. I guessed Layal was in the same class as I was, this gave me staring privileges but I was still bothered by the fact that she could have misunderstood the whole situation with Bdour. 

"Okay class, we're doing something different today. Who's up for some essay writing?" The professor gave us a little bleak smile, he was probably the oldest professor that taught me, he had greying hair and grey ash coloured hair that surrounded his light British skin.

Every person in the class groaned in annoyance when he mentioned "essay".

"Well well, such a lazy bunch. Here's the thing, I've put every one of you with a female partner-" Before he could continue, every guy next to me suddenly stood up straight and looked excited.

"-Well, that's much better now, I should have mentioned the female partner part from the start." The professor snickered. "You're going to have to write an essay on how one can easily stereotype a person, and why they do it in the first place. Discuss it with your partner, try to find ways on why people stereotype a person as a, for an example, a goth. And your reason would be, for an example, they way they dress or the way they communicate with others. Your partner will be your example and use Kuwait to your own disadvantage, use the stereotypes you see in your own life being used."

The professor held up a sheet full of names, he started off with random people, pairing them up with another person, the guys shyly looked over at each girl when their names were called. Each girl/guy had to raise a hand when their names were called, so their partners knew which one was which.

 "Thari Al-X." My name slipped out of his sandy coloured lips. I raised my hand, every female head whipped around to stare at me,

"And Ghaneema Al-X." He continued. Disappointment filled me when the name wasn't Layal's, I turned around and looked for a girl with her hand raised, but there was no one.

"Oh, well looks like Ghaneema isn't in class today. You'll be paired off with our new student Layal then." The professor shrugged and changed the name on his list. Layal hesitantly raised her hand, her eyes meeting mine and her expression didn't hold any kind of emotion. I gave her a half smile but she looked away after I did, ignoring me.

After he was done with the names, he ordered us to change seats and join our partners. I took a seat next to Layal, I got a closer look at her and this time, her eyes looked more hazel in the dark class room.

"NO Arabic allowed students, this is an English class, so keep your conversations in that language." The professor ordered, a few students laughed once he continued. "I'll be listening, no slacking off or flirting, e7m." 

"So what do you think we should write exactly?" I started the conversation, my fingers gripping my notebook which was open on a blank page.

"Women stereotypes." Layal bluntly said.

"A feminist, ahhh." The professor suddenly crept next to us, hearing us. His eyes were ogling at us, interested in our conversation.

"Well, uh." It was a bit awkward when the professor was standing over us, just watching.

"Thari give Layal the stereotype you thought of when you first saw her." The professor noticed my rigidness and tried helping me out, but all his question did was make it even more awkward.

What did I think of Layal when I first saw her?

A Kuwaiti working in a cafe? A Kuwaiti WOMAN? That's what I first thought, but then I noticed her beauty and her fluent English, I wouldn't have thought she'd be a rich one, one with a good education, I guess having a job changed my mind a lot. I sound so sexist.

"I thought she wouldn't be Kuwaiti because I wasn't used to seeing Kuwaiti girls at cafes, working there." I forced the words out but Layal looked offended.

"Layal, your turn." The professor looked eager to hear her answer.

"A player." Layal didn't even sugar coat it or provide me a reason on why she thought about that.

"Ooooo, why?" The professor cooed, his eyes widening.

"The way he acts." Layal shrugged but her words actually pissed me off. She didn't even know me one bit, why would she even assume such a thing? Because I talked to a girl? So what? I talked to her, I didn't freaking hug her or kiss her.

"Stuck up." I replied just as bluntly, her eyes widened in horror after I said such a thing.

"Good good! This is going great you two, keep it up!" The professor looked proud as he left our conversation to monitor another group's. 

"Stuck up!?" Layal snapped at me.

"You wear too many brands." I shrugged, acting the way she did when she insulted me. Yes I took her stupid stereotype as an insult. No I didn't care.

You're so stubborn Thari.

I ignored the little voice. 

"Emo and you look like a slack-off too." Layal sounded angry.

"Shaku emo!?" I nearly shouted at her.

"ENGLISH!" The professor snapped once he heard my speak Arabic.

"You're always pissed off at work." Layal snapped back.

"Maghroura." I ignored the professor and whispered my words so he wouldn't hear.

"You have no reason to back up that stereotype." Layal looked a bit hurt but she covered it up pretty well.

"People usually judge or stereotype you without a reason anyway." My argument was weak but it was definitely true.

"You don't know me." Layal's eyes pierced through mine.

"Neither do you." I nearly exclaimed. Why did this girl anger me so much?

"Okay class, enough with the stereotypes, now you'll have to get to know your partners and see if your stereotype about them was either wrong or right." The professor said to the class.

"Prove me wrong." Layal challenged me, she looked so confident about her judgement of me.

"Do you really want me to prove you wrong Layal?" I looked into her eyes, searching for the Layal I saw with her friends, the one with the smile, the one who didn't sound so cruel because the anger she had about me talking to Bdour.

I was pretty sure she was angry because of that, was it jealousy? Could Layal really be jealous though?

"Yeah, go on." Layal drummed her fingers over her desk, anxious for an answer.

"Do you know the blogger ********?" I asked her, her mouth formed a little 'o' but she nodded for a 'yes'.

"I'm him."

-

**Chapter 20(the order of the chapters are messed up): http://v-ie.blogspot.com/2012/09/le-chase-chapter-20.html

Old days.

 I felt like writing, not a story, but just another poem.

-

Take me back to the old days,
When things used to be so much simpler than today,
The word "hurt" only meant when a knee was harshly scraped,
The only way to get healed was using a protective bandaid,
A painful goodbye only lasted a day or two,
The only terrifying thing we'd face was the word "boo",
Looks or opinions didn't matter, smiles were everywhere,
Wearing short skirts and bright swimsuits without a care,
The only brand names we knew were Power Rangers or Barbie,
No one thought about or cared about money,
The toughest fight was over a toy or a silly dare,
Skin colours, views or family backgrounds weren't a part of the story,
What mattered was who had on a smile and looked friendly.

So take me back to the old days.
When things used to be so much simpler than today.

What happened to friends forever and forever?
All I see now in front of me is a stranger,
A familiar old face I used to know,
A person who used to pull me back up when I felt low,
Is just another body filled with an old memory,
A memory that seems so cruel and dreary.

Take me back to the times where we used to keep promises,
Secrets weren't thrown around like poisoned water,
The only game we played were knots and crosses,
And you'd still be here, making me feel better.

I beg of you, take me back to the old days,
When your name wasn't the only thing I knew,
And the expiration date of our friendship wasn't due.

Take me back to the old days,
When things used to be so much simpler than today.

Le Chase Chapter 18

Hey, how is everyone? :D Sorry everyone for being super slow. I'm so thankful to people who have been patient, I know it's been 5 days, woah right? I've been busy with university papers, it's hell I swear and it's so freaking confusing. I can't wait to be done with it, my deadline's September 2 so enshallah once I'm done with that, I can organise my time for the blog and my life better. And as you know, this is my last story, university is so soon and I can't always blog long stories, I'll probably still blog short stories or poetry, anything that's small or short, I won't close my blog. x

If you find any mistakes, don't be afraid to tell me, I'll correct them. 

Thank you for helping me with the guy details: @BasmahB @kwtblogger

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL RIGHT HERE: @SondosKhattab I hope you enjoy your day my lovely Egyptian reader, you deserve the best, especially on YOUR day. Much love! xx

-

Previously in Chapter 17:

"@BdourAlX: whatsapp?:p dms kela y3alig.."

Her looks won me over, he old Thari came back and I sent her my number. We switched to Whatsapp, I was trying to get my mind off of Layal in a way, Bdour was a great distraction for that. As I was in the middle of the conversation with her, I got another alert, it was another message from my blog's twitter. I switched from Whatsapp to Twitter in a hurry. The following words made me regret adding Bdour, so bad.

"@LayalAlX: Yeah.. I think I do like him. And you're right, he might be different, maybe I was wrong about him being a player."
 
-

"Bo Zaid? Weinik?" 3abbas waved his meaty hands around in front of me, trying to bring me back to reality. The smell of huffed out nicotine and expired cheesy Doritos wafted around me.

"Ha, kane." I shook my head around a bit, rubbing my tired eyes. It's been 3 days exactly and I'm still pretty much homeless. 3abbas had a cigarette that was being hugged by his colourless lips, it didn't smell like the marijuana, it was the regular stuff. He hasn't said a word about what happened that day and neither did I, he was kind enough to provide me a couch to sleep on till things were okay again back home.

"Shabab, shtaboun men KFC?" 3abbas called out to the guys, there were about ten, sitting around on the rugged floor with cards in front of them, their eyes lazy but determined to win the game.

"Keleshay!" One of the guys called out, his name was Khalid. He had a rough looking beard and he was known for his famous father, who was a great stage actor.

"Spicy, 9a7?" 3abbas held a hand over his Porsche blackberry and asked the guys again.

"Eeee." They all grunted, getting annoyed that we disturbed their game. I wasn't up for playing, usually I'd kick their a**es and win the game in the mere of minutes but my head was pretty much messed up, especially about the call I got yesterday.

I was about to fall asleep that night but my Samsung had vibrated up against my stubble, I forced my eyes open, trying to concentrate on the call whilst being half asleep on 3abbas's couch. The guys were sprawled around the couches, the floor, you name it, they could fall asleep on anything.

"Hmm, aloo?" I didn't check the caller ID.

"Thari? 7beeby?" My mom's voice was soft, she was whispering through the phone.

"Yuma?" I suddenly jolted up, I was startled by her call. I thought she wanted nothing to do with me.

"Weinik Thari? Ga3da a7ateek!" Her voice was full of fear and worry for her son.

"Nayem 3nd diwaneyat Al X." I answered.

"El7amdellah.. obouk lal7een em3a9b bas la t7aty, b3ad chem youm bisam7ik w bidig 3leik, et3rfa. Thari etdakhn marijuana?" My mother's voice began to seem more wobbly when she said the word "marijuana".

"Yuma walla la2, a9lan mu ga3d adakhin cigarettes el 3adyeen." I honestly replied.

"3yal mnu Thari? Shameit el ree7a.." My mother kept her voice quiet, she sounded like she was alone in her bedroom. Another night alone. That made the anger in me sprout out again, I tried to calm back down, I couldn't believe the hatred I had for my own father.

"Ma7ad yuma, ensay el maw'9ou3." I tried to avoid her answer, fortunately she had to end the call after hearing my father's footsteps creep around the house.

"Thari? Ga3da akelmik." 3abbas's voice, yet again, caused my thoughts to whisk away.

"Offh ithlif enzain?!" One of the guys shouted at the others, completely pissed off because he just lost in the cards game. In the next second, he sat back down on the desert coloured carpeted floor and laughed, watching the game even though he was out of it.

"Asif, shgilt?" I pulled off my dark jacket, the diwaneya was getting warmer now and so I remained in my grey Abercrombie sweatpants and white v-neck shirt.

"Bitiyee bacher el l3b wla la2?" I smacked my forehead with my palm in response to 3abbas's words. I totally forgot about our football match tomorrow and my knees have felt so lazy and weak lately, I haven't exercised or tested my muscles for a month now.

"Eee akeed bayee." I made myself sound like I totally remembered.

"Yalla zain." 3abbas stood up from his seat, pushed the butt of his cigarette on the steel ashtray, letting the light ignite for a few more seconds before the smoke withered away, the light darkening slowly before it fully died away.

It resembled my energy perfectly.

-

"Goum, yalla 3ad." 3abbas nudged my shoulder, I didn't notice that I fell asleep. Usually I stayed up all night with the guys, this time sleep had won over the battle. Using my fingers, I brushed them over my eyes, my eyelashes feeling thick and sticky against my callouses.

"El sa3a cham?" I grunted, pushing the beanie off of my messed up hair.

"5:45 am." 3abbas replied, the other guys were still asleep, the others were already back home, nestled into their own warm cushions and bed.

"Offhh, shfeek ga3edtny embacher?!" I groaned, trying to go back to sleep.

"Goum, shfeeek neseit? Warak jam3a." 3abbas was already in his clean clothes that smelt like his new heavy Abercrombie collogne.

"Shd3wa jam3a 5:45 am?!" I didn't feel tired anymore, the sleepiness slipped away and hated that when it happened. My stomach vibrated, literally, and screamed out in hunger. 3abbas looked at me weirdly, he must have heard it too. The after scent of KFC still lingered around me and I started to crave every type of chicken imagineable.

"Ma yamdeena netrayag etha g3dna 7 am." 3abbas gave me a well known look that meant he understood my sudden hunger.

I changed into a new pair of clothes, I was grateful to find that my mother sent over a bag of my stuff to 3abbas's house with the driver. I wore my clean pair of navy shorts and just pulled a grey hoodie over my v-neck, not bothering to change out of it. I slipped on my grey Toms and beanie, not checking if my hair was in place. I was too hungry to care.

I chose to drive, I now had the Range Rover and that gave me more access to  locations. 3abbas was too busy checking himself out in the mirror of the leather smelling car, he had an obsession with checking himself out.


It was currently 6:20am and the only place that we knew would be awake and open was Mcdonalds. (*If I'm wrong about this then ignore it, 3ade.) We ordered our usual pancakes, I ordered two plates of them and asked for extra syrup. My mouth was filled with scrumptious syrup covered pancakes when 3abbas asked a question that caused me to nearly choke.

"Men meta emsawe el blog?" 3abbas was blunt, he was chewing over his pancakes noisily.

"Blog?" I swallowed my food and asked.

"Eee, tara ashkara enta." 3abbas laughed.

"Walla?" My eyebrows knitted together.

"Eee, lazem etgahyer chem shaghla." 3abbas didn't seem that interested in why I never told him about the blog but I was surprised that he even noticed the trend for blogs these days.

"Mu ela." I replied lazily.

"Shfeek, enta anonymous, ma tigder etjawib 3la as2ela 3an ey jam3a etrou7la." 3abbas lectured me, some of the syrup from the pancakes rubbed against his cheek. Mcdonalds was quiet, the only two people were 3abbas and I, crunching on our early breakfast.

"W etha? 3ade." I shrugged. I honestly didn't care if anyone figured out if the blog was me or not, I still didn't even start the new story and I didn't feel like starting it any time soon. Maybe I'll close the blog. Or no wait, how else was I going to talk to Layal then?

"You suck at being anonymous." 3abbas shook his head in a disapproving way.

"Shnu bi9eer etha e3rifaw ena hatha ana?" I laughed mockingly. The girls from my blog already were throwing themselves at me on my ask, sending me "I love you" and "oh you must be so handsome". It was hilarious, I should have started the blog earlier in my preteens when I was looking for a girlfriend.

"Ma cheyekt your followers? 9araw foug el alf, w kela banat, shnu bitgoul 7ag 7beebtk lema et3arif?" 3abbas's eyebrow flew up.

"7beebty?" I asked in confusion.

"Eee, hathe shisimha, Layla? Layan?" 3abbas asked.

"Layal," I corrected him. "Ehya mu 7beebty."

"Lema yeit 3ndk, kent ga3da etkhiz'ha khaz mu 6abee3y. Walla zain el bent ma la7e'9at," 3abbas laughed, he sounded as if he was talking to a kid instead of his friend, it was starting to piss me off.

"Al7een shtabe bl'9ab6?" I snapped at him, my anger was too hard to control. Once it was triggered, it spilled out of me as fast as an open bottle being tipped over, the liquid running out of the plastic holder.

"Shal nefseya, kent ga3d atghashmar," 3abbas's grin faded.

"Yalla khale9t?" I pretty much licked my plate clean, it was empty now and it was now 6:40am, my first class was 7:15am and I didn't want to miss it. I've missed too many classes already.

3abbas didn't utter another word, I waited till he was done from his meal and I drove both of us to the university. It's a huge campus filled with buildings, I got lost numerous times on my first day here. Now? I pretty much memorised every little corner in that university.

"Thari!" A female voice called out and the sound of heels clitt-a-clacking over the ceramic floors of the university followed me. I turned around and was met by Bdour. She was much shorter in person, even though her heels were probably 8 inches high. What were those called again? Lobishon? Lobiton? Letbiton? I have no idea but the girls are addicted to it, to me it looks like a disco ball attached to a heel.

"Ahlain." I greeted her coolly, 3abbas gave me this look I couldn't understand and walked off to his class. I noticed a few eyes on us, especially on Bdour and her body hugging wine red sweater.

"Shlounik?" Bdour asked in a shy voice, her thin lips covered with the same coloured lipstick as her sweater.

"Tamam, entay shlounch?" I tried my hardest not to lower my gaze down to her neck, her sweater was too tight on her and it was distracting. I don't get girls, they blame us for staring when they're the ones wearing such alluring clothes.

"Zaina." She giggled to herself. "Sh3ndik al7een?"

"Art." I aimed my eyes at what was behind her, it was another girl, she was dressed in lazy Juicy sweat pants, her body was curvy and it seemed familiar from the back. Her veil was ash grey and her sweat pants were tucked into her rain shiny looking boots. Once she turned around, I was startled by her colourful looking eyes.

Layal? Here? Huh?

"Thari?" Bdour nagged at me, her voice was getting annoying now. She blocked my view of Layal and I only got a peek at her flawless face, it had some make up on it but it wasn't that visible, especially from far away. She had a friend next to her, was it someone just giving her a tour?

I wanted to be the one giving her the tour.

"Hm, ha?" I looked back at Bdour.

"Si2altk so2al," Bdour looked quite annoyed by how distracted I was. I couldn't help it, her tight sweater wasn't that alluring anymore when Layal was standing a few feet away from me, in her comfy looking sweats, she looked comfortable altogether and easy to hug. Her colourful scarf was hidden under her Juicy jacket and it kept flying around her, the wind catching on. In winter, the doors to the university kept opening and closing, welcoming the chilly winds of winter.

"Shnu ohwa?" My eyes were still on Layal, she was busy talking to the other girl with the long hair and she held her Chanel purse, her other hand holding a piece of paper.

"Ana awal bent t3arif 3ank w 3an el blog?" Bdour fluttered her heavy mascara-ed eyelashes at me.

"Hmm." I nodded just to please her, I was too busy trying to figure out why Layal was in my university.

WAIT, she asked about universities the first day I met her. Did she actually take my advice seriously? She's enrolling into AUM (American University of the Middle East.)

"Aww!" Bdour squealed with happiness. "You can trust me."

"Uh huh." I nodded again.

 "Hey, bitkhale9 embacher elyoum mu 9a7? T3al Jabriya, benrou7 Starbucks with a few other people, rafeejik yigder eyee." Bdour shyly asked, she kept her voice low, she didn't want any other Kuwaitis to hear her.

"Hmm okay." I nodded for the third time. What did she say again? I saw her lips coloured moving but I wasn't paying attention to her words.

"Can't wait to see you!" Bdour gave me a big smile before walking past me, strutting in her heels.

At the same exact moment, Layal turned her head to face me. She looked tanned today, was she wearing different kind of make up? Her large eyes gaped at me for a few seconds, in a disapproving way, she must have heard Bdour. She didn't look happy at all.

Wait wait wait.

Rewind please.

Can't wait to see you?

Layal heard it.


Oh no, she heard it.

Le Chase Chapter 17

Thanks to so many helpful readers for helping me with Thari's character, apparently he seems too girly and I have to agree, it's my first time trying to act like a guy, I've adjusted his personality a bit more but I made him sensitive on the inside on purpose, I want him to have that tough exterior but he's actually caring/sensitive on the inside *yes, I have seen guys like this, they do exist girls*.

HUUUUUGE thanks to this girl who helped me out A LOT with this post, with the guy talks and the ideas! @alajeelmariam

Also thanks to the following people (awesome people) for using their own time to help me with this post too: @nabilaals  @3aziz506 @blogger_kuwait @MAK_64

This post goes out to you Fajer and Shoojy, crazy girl I swear. Also to this beautiful girl, S_AlBinali x

I'm sorry this post isn't as long as I liked it to be, I swear it took me 2 hours and I tried my best to find better ideas but I'm really running out of them. Forgive me, enshallah next time it will be longer.

-

Previously in Chapter 16.. 

"Jarra7 yersim? W laish yigouly sorry?" Layal asked, sounding confused.

Was she talking about the notes I left in her locker?

No no no, she thinks it was Jarra7?!

"Eee shefta bel locker room, akeed Jarra7! Kela yikhizich, akeed it must be him saying sorry for being so obvious." Noura continued on.

"I always thought it was..." Layal murmured quietly.

"Thought it was who?" Noura questioned.

"No one, never mind."

Can this day get any worse?


-




 -LAYAL-

For some reason, I kind of had this feeling about Thari sending me those notes, I know, it sounds stupid. He was being a jerk to me all this time, why would he even send me such notes? Jarra7 is so sweet, it would probably more his style to send me such notes and I can't help but notice the way he stares sometimes, but I always thought that his eyes were on Noura, not on me...

"Eeee it's Jarra7!" A new voice entered the conversation, I turned around and found Farah standing in front of me with a grin on her make up covered face.

"Shdarach?" I snapped at her, I didn't like her much and I couldn't help that my attitude got the best of me whenever she was around.

"Cus I overheard him talking about his crush on you, he was telling Thari about it in the kitchen and I heard every word." Farah's grin widened, her incisors now visible, they were as sharp as knives.

"Really?" My attitude melted away, I saw them the other day in the kitchen engrossed into a conversation, Farah wasn't exactly lying about this one, was she?

"What did they say?" Noura suddenly got closer to Farah and her ears were yearning for gossip.

"Offh what didn't they say?" Farah smirked, giving me a look that held a secret.

This was too weird. Jarra7, crush on me? He's such a sweetheart, in a brotherly way, I couldn't imagine him liking me in that way.

I smelled something fishy going on.

"I don't believe you." I suddenly stated bluntly.

"Huh?" Farah stopped whispering to Noura and turned to look at me. I looked up and I found Thari through the door window, he was staring at us and he had some kind of expression on his face that I couldn't understand. I brushed past the girls and pushed the door open, I stood in front of him and he stared back at me, waiting for me to speak.

"Ent ely 7a6 el notes?" I asked him, my voice shaking a bit.

Boy was I going to get totally embarrassed if he answered with a "no".



 -THARI-

 It amused me seeing Layal all nervous and jittery in front of me, I forced myself to keep an emotionless mask on as I stared at her, smiling or laughing would have given it away too fast.

"Yep." I finally said, her face shifted from nervous to shocked then to that look that said "I knew it!"

"W-walla?!" Her eyes nearly fell out of her eye sockets.

"Eee, shfeech?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"But.. why?" She continued to stutter, unable to form her words properly. I didn't think this would be such a big deal.

"Wayed kabertay elsalfa tara." I wanted to avoid making the subject longer, it felt a bit awkward talking to her about this.

"Okay fine, sorry." Layal said in an annoyed tone, turning around to walk off in the opposite direction, making me regret what I just said. I honestly did not understand girls, wasn't she just acting cute and shy, now she was mad?

I wonder if she's on her period.

The day went along well, I'd get a few stares from Layal or her friends and then they'd whisper, I wasn't oblivious and I clearly noticed the sudden tension around me. I wonder if I even did the right thing or what I did was even good.

"Halla bl 7abeeb." I grinned once I noticed Jarra7 just come in for his shift at work, he looked a bit dazzled and distracted.

"Ahlain." He said, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Yuba shfeek?" I asked, my smile evaporating.

"Wela shay." He frowned.

"Khif 3aleina yal dalou3, yalla goul sh9ayer?" I bumped his shoulder with mine, trying to make the conversation more lighthearted than serious.

"Shfeeha Noura gamet etkhizny kel digeega?" Jarra7 smoothed out his hair with his fingers, adjusting his circle shaped glasses over his eyes.

Oh, he didn't know yet. Poor guy.

"Farah galetleha ena enta t7b Layal." I said it out of curiosity, I wanted to make sure it was 100% fake.

"Shaku! Layal 7sbat ekhty!" Jarra7's reaction was genuine. I felt relieved.

Etghar Thari?

I ignored the little voice in my head.

"Eee la t7aty, Layal will probably tell Noura that. You know how girls gossip." I shrugged it off.

"Mmm." Jarra7 mumbled, he was deep in though. He took things seriously, I seemed to be more lighthearted at the moment, which was weird, even for me. "Hey, sh9ayer wya Layal?"

"Ma 9ar shay." I replied bluntly.

"Yalla 3ad, embayen t7bha." Jarra7's frown was replaced with a smile.

"Bakhaleeha t7bny." I said with sheer confidence.

"You say it as if she's so easy." Jarra7's eyebrow shot up for a second.

"Girls are easy."

"Not all of them." Jarra7 turned around and his eyes were on Noura.

I didn't bother putting my phone in the basket when I came to work today, it was hidden in my pocket and Ferro, the manager, forgot to do the cellphone check today.

And I guess Layal had her phone too since she had apparently messaged my blog's twitter, even after I didn't bother replying to her "Wow". It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the Samsung.

"@LayalAlX: Remember that jerk I told you about?"

"@*******: Shfeeh?"

"@LayalAlX: He sent me notes in my locker and a really beautiful drawing of my eyes.. what does that mean? He's so confusing, it's like one second he's a complete jerk then he becomes this sweet person out of nowhere, I really don't get it, you're a guy, can't you tell me?"

"@********: He likes you."

 "@LayalAlX: And how are you so sure?;s"

"@******: Cus I'm a guy."

And I'm also him.

"@LayalAlX: Are you sure..? I don't think he like me in that way, it feels as if he hates me sometimes. And he's kind of mysterious, I don't trust him."

"@*******: Why not give him a chance?"

"@LayalAlX: A chance with what?"

"@*********: Try being friends with him? He might be a different person on the inside.."

"@LayalAlX: Hmm madre."

"@********: Try it."

"@LayalAlX: He's texting right now, a7es it's a girl, I feel like he's that type, that's always texting five different girls everyday.."

I quickly let go of my phone and looked around to find Layal by the cashier, her eyes on me but she looked away once I caught her staring. I decided to go into the locker room to text her.

"@********: You might be wrong. :p"

"@LayalAlX: Why are you so sure? You don't even know him.."

"@********: You asked for my opinion. :p"

"@LayalAlX: Yeah sorry, thanks anyway."

"@********: Hey, ma gilteely."

"@LayalAlX: Shnu? :o"

"@********: Do you like him?"

Layal didn't answer quickly, I tried to peek around to see what she was doing, I caught her staring at her iPhone screen, her fingers itching to reply but she was frozen in her place. She then dug her phone into the pocket of her floral trousers, deliberately not answering me.

I wanted an answer. Really bad.

My curiosity got the best of me.

@********: Layal weinch;p?"

I saw her see the message but again, she ignored my message. Weird. A new message alerted me, I thought it was from Layal but I was disappointed to find that it was just Bdour, the girl from my university that wanted to know who I was.

"@BdourAlX: hey mnzaman 3ank;p"

"@*******: Mm. :p"

"@BdourAlX: lal7een ma giltly mnu enta.."

"@********: Wa7d."

"@BdourAlX: yalla 3ad. -.-"

Man, she was getting annoying. Baftak menha.

"@*******: Thari Al X. -.-"

"@BdourAlX: umbeihhh:$ walla!?"

"@********: Eee."

"@BdourAlX: ma twa8a3tk chithe!"

"@********: What do you mean?:s"

"@BdourAlX: 3bale enta jaikr haha. ::"

"@*******: Oh y3ne ana mu jaikr al7een;p?"

"@BdourAlX: akeed mu jaikr:p! hey add me on my bbm.."

"@********: I have a samsung:p."

She was too easy. She changed her avatar, I clicked on it and it was another picture of her. She had her long hair loose, her waves all over her shoulders, her tan was vibrant and her face wasn't the prettiest but her body made up for it, she wore a black fitted dress that reached down to her knees. She wore a pout over her red coloured lips, looking seductive.

"@BdourAlX: whatsapp?:p dms kela y3alig.."

Her looks won me over, he old Thari came back and I sent her my number. We switched to Whatsapp, I was trying to get my mind off of Layal in a way, Bdour was a great distraction for that. As I was in the middle of the conversation with her, I got another alert, it was another message from my blog's twitter. I switched from Whatsapp to Twitter in a hurry. The following words made me regret adding Bdour, so bad.

"@LayalAlX: Yeah.. I think I do like him. And you're right, he might be different, maybe I was wrong about him being a player."

STOP! AND CLICK ON ME.

This goes out to you @CashmeresBlog.

You can pretty much tell what this post will be about. It's about bloggers. This is my blog, I won't just post stories for entertainment, it's also a way for me to send out a message aw etha ba6ale3 7arety, I go write, it makes me feel better. It's what all of us bloggers have in common, our love for writing.

So of course, I'm going to stand up for each one of them, even if I might not know them personally, I will be their biggest supporter because I understand the effort they put in every post they write, I understand how many times they declined an offer to go out or do something else just so they could post for their readers.

What angered me is when Cashmere closed her blog, and what was her reason? It was because of this atmosphere, blogging has changed, now some readers pressure bloggers into posting, they nag and if they don't post, they receive hate. *I am NOT saying all of our readers are like this, bil3ex el7amdellah we have a LOT of great readers who are VERY understanding, most of my readers have been so kind to me, I love them, I honestly do and I'm always grateful but there are still people who do this.

So what if a blogger doesn't post today? Or tomorrow? I understand the impatience readers get, they always ask "Why do you even blog if you aren't committed?"

Before you ask us that, try to put yourselves in our shoes, just try to.

We ARE committed but it doesn't mean we have to post everyday or post every 5 hours, blogging ISN'T our lives, we have lives out of this blogger world, just because we decided to start a hobby in writing, does not mean we are expected to write everyday. We chose to start this hobby as a way to escape our personal world, to go into a new one where we could be ourselves without getting judged, but of course, judgements follow us everywhere, readers have to blame us for our imaginations, on how "wrong" it is, is it wrong for a woman to write a love story but acceptable for a man to write one? That's just sexist, we are equal in God's eyes so why can't we both be equal in people's?

Do you know how long it takes to write ONE post that may seem "short" to you?

Personally, it takes me between 2-3 hours for one chapter. Planning takes even more time, having to find original ideas when there are so many cliche ones is also hard, ideas don't just come everyday, we can stay days, not being able to write because of writer's block, yet readers question our devotion and doubt us because we didn't post for a few days, when all we wanted was the best ideas so we would offer all of you an amazing post, rather than writing a quick bad one.

Your life won't end if we don't post for a few days, believe me it won't. Patience is a virtue, learn to wait, if the blog is worth it then it is worth the wait. This is our hobby, it is NOT our job or our homework, so stop making it feel that way. I've stopped answering hate because of posting late, I used to post a lot, but guess what? My ideas are gone, my love for writing is slipping away because of this but I will not end this blog, I will not end something I haven't finished and I will not hate something that I used to love because of hateful readers or judgmental people.

Yes, I'm a woman, yes I wear a 7ijab, yes I write love stories, so what? Should I care about your opinion of myself? No, because only God's opinion matters to me, I am not a Sheikh, I am a teenager who has a big imagination, I am not expected to be gone to when someone needs to find a way to get closer to God, you should go read the Qura'an instead of blogs if you want a way to get closer to God.

Don't go to bloggers or their stories for a guide to live your life, we don't write love stories or stories in general to try to make people copy our characters, we do it to provide entertainment, no one should expect bloggers to become parental figures when we ourselves, are children, we are teenagers, we are young adults, we have not grown up fully yet but we have decided to let go of people's stupid close minded judgments to take action with something we love. We ourselves know what's right or wrong, this is why we warn our readers about this before we write our stories, we do it because we don't want to influence any of you, we do care about our young readers, it's also why I disabled my comments, I got so much swear words, people hating on me for traveling and because I had a life. I do not want my young readers reading any of that, I didn't even say these kinds of words when I was younger and I try to limit my swear words at 16, I'm surprised at people's tongues these days, throwing these words everywhere and not thinking who would read it. I censor my swear words for a reason, I add them to create for emotions for my characters but I myself, try not to use them.

Sending hate to bloggers on ask? Well sorry but we're not robots, we do have feelings. You're entitled to your opinion but that doesn't give you the right to say something in a rude way. If you hate a blog, then easy, press the X button, press UNFOLLOW and go on with your life, who forced you to read the blog? No one, it was your decision and you were the one who wasted your time, not us, it isn't our fault that you don't like the blog, elnas a'9wa8, everyone has their own style.

I don't have to agree with your opinion with my blog, I respect it but I won't agree to it. Just because people read our tweets or ask answers, does not mean you know us. Before telling us our flaws, don't you think we already know them enough? We don't need others to spot them, we have spotted them ourselves because we are not perfect, no one is, except God. Don't act as if you know a blogger when you never gave them a chance, when you never talked to them personally or tried to get closer to them.

If you want society to change, you have to be the change in society, we bloggers chose for a change, we tried to provide a better environment for ourselves, we wanted this place as a way to just do something we love. I do not regret starting this blog at all, there was a lot more good in it than bad. We all met wonderful people, they supported us from the very first day and still do today, they've become our greatest friends, even our bestest friends in our personal life (this goes out to you Maha S, Lulu, Maha A).

I wanted to write this post for Cashmere, and all the other bloggers who closed their blogs because of feeling suffocated by hate and people who kept judging them. Use your words wisely, treat others the way you want to be treated because I honestly know non of my readers would like to receive hate everyday on ask when all they did was write a post and used 3 hours of their own time, when it only took people a few minutes to read the post.

This is my opinion, you do not need to agree with any of it but it won't mean you can hate on me for defending other bloggers, if you don't agree then just leave, you shouldn't even be reading this till the end anyway. I am not hating on anyone, I am just stating the things I have seen myself and these things happen but it doesn't mean all our readers are like this, most of them aren't and el7amdellah we all have great supporters, we can't stop thanking all of you, you all are the reason why we keep blogging, even after all this hate and disadvantages.

We miss you Cashmere, we hope you'd come back to blogging one day, you were truly and still are an amazing writer with such a pure personality. Believe me when I say you or your stories will never be forgotten. x

Le Chase Chapter 16

I hope everyone had a fantastic eid! :D I really missed writing and I got so many great ideas el7amdellah, so enshallah no more writer's block. I've tried to make this post as long as possible to make up for the days that I haven't posted. Thanks for all the kind support, I love all of you and I can't thank you enough! x

www.ask.fm/vieblogue.

Comments on posts will stay disabled, I'm still not sure about enabling them but maybe in the near future I will, I miss seeing my anonymous commenters, you guys have always been such sweet supporters! This goes out to you Um Yousif. :')

SMOKING IS: 7aram, unhealthy and harmful to your body, stick that into your head. Don't copy any of my characters, I've said this 242423 times and I'll keep on saying it, you're all smart enough to know the difference between right or wrong, all of this for only your entertainment.

And "marijuana" *I've heard of it in news before*, can be used for medical reasons but using it for entertainment purposes is wrong.

Also, I promised all you lovely bloggers a blog post for you, I still didn't forget, I'll start writing it soon. If you find any mistakes, please tell me, kent daykha 7ail w ma kent abe anam without posting, so please forgive me if you ever find a mistake, don't be shy to tell me about it on ask or twitter. x

-

Previously in Chapter 15:



"Shal ree7a?" My father snapped at me, his head shooting up in response once I was cinches away from him.

"Ey ree7a?" I nervously replied.

No no no, did I smell like smoke? How could I be so stupid?

"La etchathib!" My father stood up, the veins in his neck were now visible, showing off his sudden anger. He grabbed my jumped, pulling me closer so his oversized nose could sniff at my clothes.

"Marijuana?!" His nostrils flared in fury, his eyes nearly bulging out of his eye sockets.

(*Marijuana is a drug, it's like a cigarette but it has leaves, they wrap it up in a cigarette and smoke from it, it's illegal and of course, 7aram. It makes you dizzy and causes diseases, google for more info.)


-


"Yuba, la2!" I nearly screamed out in defence. My father's eyes were full of red viens, expressing his sudden bolt of anger.


"3abalk ana ghabe, etchatheb 3lay?!" My father gripped my shirt, pulling up closer to him, so close that I could smell his onion scented breath. My mother was on her feet, her face looking fearful of what was about to happen.


"Yuba walla-" I tried to pull myself away from him but he was even stronger than me, his frail body didn't seem so frail anymore, his looks deceived me.

Before I could even continue, or even try to defend myself, I felt a hard blow hit against my cheek. Knuckles dug deep into my cheek, the roughness forced me to fall back to the ground, it took me a few seconds to understand what had just happened.

Finally, it hit me.

My father just punched me.

My head was pounding, the ceramic floor hit it hard, and my cheek was throbbing with pain.

"THARI!" My mother screamed in shock. The dizziness overwhelmed me for few long seconds, it felt pretty long to me. I was so sure I would have taken that blow but the punch was too aggressive.

My view was finally adjusted and I could see again, figures weren't flying and swimming around me anymore. My father's second wife was holding him back away from me, suddenly I had some affection for that woman, stopping my own father from hurting me again.

My mother was knelt besides me, her soft cool hands gripping my face, trying to pull it off of the floor, her eyes full off wet tears.

"T-thari?!" My mother squealed out.

Wath7a? Where was my sister? The only thought that was taking over my head was the fact that Wath7a had watched her own father hit her brother, how would she see our father now?

"Ma feene shay." I forced the words out, I wasn't going to act like a wussy in front of my father. He was watching me, he wanted me to crawl down to the floor and beg for his forgiveness.

I wasn't about to give in, I'm stubborn. I won't let someone control me, even if it was my own reckless father. I pushed away my mother's hands, ignoring the pain and stood up. The ground shook under me for a second, I was about to wobble over and fall again but I quickly adjusted and kept my balance.

I turned around and found Wath7a. I felt as if my heart was squeezed and was gripped by a pair of tight fingers because of what I just saw. Wath7a was hiding behind the couch, her face was peeking out a bit and I could see her eyes, there were smudged with mascara because of her tears. She kept hiccuping, her sobs were quiet but depressing to listen to.

"BARA." My father's voice alerted me, bringing me back to the sudden situation.

"S-shnu?" I stuttered, unable to believe what my father had just demanded.

He took a step forward, pushing his second wife over so she fell back to the couch, his hands gripped my arms, he was too strong, just too strong. One second I was in the living room, the next, I was being held by my father, being forced out of my own house.

I tried to fight him off, my mother's hands were trying to pull off his. I heard Wath7a scream, following us but my father was too fast, I was outside of the house, the door locked in front of me. The ground under me was my new home.

I couldn't understand what had just happened. I seriously couldn't.

All I knew was that my cheek was throbbing. Wath7a was scared. And I was now alone.

I could hear the distant screams from my mother and my sister from inside the house but the door was still locked, trapping me out of my own home. The home I lived in for nearly 19 years now. A home I had no access to anymore.

I fell down to the floor, sitting on the steps. The tears wouldn't form, I hadn't cried for years. The last time I shed a tear was when Manal told me she was dying, when she lied to me.

Now? I couldn't even form a frown. I felt numb, in shock.

I did the right thing, didn't I? I walked away from 3abbas, I walked away from that poisonous marijuana, I chose the right decision. And what do I get in return?

Not even a chance to explain myself.

I dialed 3abbas's number as I stared at the long row of cars parked in front of me. 3abbas didn't answer, I called again and again.

Still no answer.

And then I remembered. I still had my car keys but my car was back at Chocolate Bar. All I needed was a ride.

I dialed Ali's number, one of my friends who I was sure that was still awake.

"Ahlaaaain." Ali drawled, his voice sounding a bit intoxicated. All I could hear was ear pounding music in the background, he was probably at some kind of party, that guy was wild.

"Ali, tigder etmurny?" I asked.

"Thari... Shfeek?" Ali said in a weird-ed out voice, he knew the number of cars we had and I never had to ask him for a ride before.

"Ma feene shay.. bas tigder tiyee wla la2?" I cut to the chase, trying to avoid his suspicious questions that was about to fire at me.

"Khala9 okay al7een bayee." Ali gave up and I appreciated that, my friends didn't have the tendecy to push themselves into my business as long as I didn't do it to them.

I waited patiently, my bottom still resting over the steps. The voices from the house were quiet now, I couldn't hear anything and the door was still locked. I checked twitter and stalked Layal. It was weird, that girl could keep my mind off of my problems, even though she wasn't really doing anything.

I decided to send her a message, being anonymous gave me a lot more freedom to do things that I wouldn't usually do.

"@*******: Layal? Ga3da?"

She replied instantly.

"@LayalAlX: Eee.. is everything alright?"

"@********: Haha I got kicked out of my own house. :p"

I stared long and hard at the "haha", it wasn't exactly a funny situation..

"@LayalAlX: What?! Why Thari?!"

I still reacted in a surprised way whenever she said my name and then I'd realise that she didn't even know that it was my actual name.

"@*********: Long story.."

"@LayalAlX: I have all day. I'm listening. Well, reading."

"@*********: It's not a pleasant story."

"@LayalAlX: I'm still here, aren't I?"

"@********: My parents think that I smoked and did drugs because I smelt of marijuana, but it was my best friend who was doing the dirty.. it was never me."

"@LayalAlX: Why didn't you tell them!?"

"@*******: Layal walla I tried.. and I can't tell them that it's my friend, they'll tell his parents, he's like my brother, I can't rat him out Layal."

"@LayalAlX: Seriously Thari? You're homeless now, if you tell them the truth you'll have a home again. And a family."

"@********: But I won't have a brother anymore."

"@LayalAlX: Wow."

Wow? What did she mean by that? I felt like I was disappointing everyone. My best was never good enough anymore, I tried to change, I tried to improve, but seriously, did no one notice? I decided to ignore Layal, I seriously didn't need any more problems or drama.

I was a man who wanted to stay away from drama. Far, far away.

Yet drama still followed me.

-

-LAYAL-

I was staring at the blogger's message for 20 minutes now. He didn't reply but he tweeted a quote, he was ignoring me. I was surprised, I hadn't ever met a guy before who would lose his own family, his home, over a friend. But why was he ignoring me? Did I give him too much? Was I too open? Was this inappropriate, did I seem too easy?

I thought about messaging him again but then decided against it, I was not easy and I wasn't going to show any kind of act that made me seem desperate.

Layal why do you even care about an anonymous blogger's opinion? Stop over thinking everything.

"Layal!" My brother's voice called out before my peach painted door was pulled open. I quickly dug my phone under my bed covers, I had the blogger direct message chat open and I did not want my reckless brother Ebrahim to read it.

"Halla?" I asked in a patient voice, my long hair was messily cascading over my shoulders, my face clear of make up and all I wore was a comfy pair of Juicy sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt.

"Shfeech neseitay? It's Dad's time for his medicine." Ebrahim shook his head at me in an annoyed way, rubbing his tired eyes, he was shirtless, his chubby stomach in view and his hair a mess.

"Enshallah al7een ba36eeh dewah." I kept in my anger, I wanted to lash out at him. He had the energy to get up from bed to tell me that it was time to my Dad's medicine but he had no energy to get the medicine himself for my Dad?

"Eee yalla, la et6awleen hff." Ebrahim muttered, leaving my room without another word.

I signed out of my twitter account from my iPhone and left my room, making my way down to the kitchen. Denny, our housekeeper, was fast asleep and I never liked waking her up, she was a frail woman full of energy but she still needed her sleep.

My feet touched the cool ceramic floors of our house, it wasn't that large nor that small, it was full of paintings and statues, my father always said it was my mother's touch to the house, he never liked changing the decor, even after she left us, he loved to remember her.

I grabbed the injection from the white fridge and walked to my father's bedroom in the dark, everyone was fast asleep except me. I didn't bother knocking, I knew my Dad was asleep.

"Yuba, yalla time for your medicine." I knelt down besides him, his room was large but plain, he didn't put on any pictures or any of my mother's artistic decor. He liked his things kept simple.

"Al7een?" His tired face looked up at me in the dark, his wrinkled eyes crinkling.

"Eee neseit yuba? Ma3aleih, ma ra7 y3wr hal mara." I stroked his hand softly under the sheets before pinning the injection against his skin, it always hurt him the most, his daily injections but I always had to assure him it wouldn't hurt this time, just so he wouldn't fight me off.

"Ake-a7!" He groaned out in pain as the needle sunk deep into his skin, the wet medicine swimming into his body. I quickly took out the needle once I was done and handed him a glass of cool water.

"Ley meta Layal?" My Dad's voice croaked out.

"Yuba bas bage chem youm w b3dain mu lazem takheth el dwa, walla mu bage wayed." I lied. Sometimes I felt like I was the parent and he was the child, it was the opposite now.

"Enshallah." He murmured before his eyes slowly closed, the medicine usually made him sleepy, forcing him to drift off to sleep. I quietly shut the door behind me, trying to not bothering my father.

"Layal, shfeech?" A deep voice startled me for a second. I turned to the right and found my brother, the more responsible one, the one I trusted so much, Abdulrahman, standing in front of me in his shorts and shirt, looking worried.

"Ma feene shay, laish?" I asked in a confused tone, my fingers gripping the empty injection.

"Ga3da tabcheen?" 7amany walked over to me to peek at my face. I quickly touched my cheek and found a wet tear plastered over it. I brushed it off with the tips of my fingers in a mere second.

"La2 la2, bas daykha fa akeed, uhm-" I couldn't find an explanation.

"Shlouna obouy?" 7amany changed the subject and I felt grateful for that.

"El7amdellah 3la kl7al." I forced a smile. My face bore no true emotions.

"He'll get better." 7amany said in a hushed tone, his eyes finding mine.

"Goul enshallah."

"Enshallah. Al7een yalla namay, warach dawam." 7amany kissed the top of my forehead before he walked off to his room, I watched him for a few seconds before I did the same.

-

-THARI-

Ali was kind enough to drive me to Chocolate Bar to get my car and then let me crash at his place last night. I borrowed a random Aviator shirt from him, it was a bit tight since he was more of a stick figured guy than a muscled one, but it'll have to do. I was extremely grateful that Ali didn't ask about the huge bruise over my cheek because of my father's punch or maybe Ali was a bit too distracted to notice.

I skipped university for work, for some reason, I just wanted to see Layal, even though her message confused me.

I didn't get a call or any kind of message from my mom or Wath7a. Did they believe that I'd smoke marijuana too? Was I that bad of a guy for them to believe such a thing?

I didn't know but it bothered me to the core, it wouldn't leave my head and I couldn't just forget about what had just happened last night.

I finally parked my car outside Chocolate Bar and hurried in, I was early today, I wanted to distract myself.

"You're early today!" Ferro said in an impressed tone once I was in the cake scented cafe.

"Haha yes." I forced a laugh and a smile. I went over to the kitchen and grabbed an apron from the counter. I was right next to the door where it led us to the cashier, where Layal usually was. I avoided looking at her today, I couldn't stand seeing her eye to eye after feeling so scandalous for using the blog just to talk to her.

I couldn't help it but I caught her voice and her words made it's way to my ears.

"Jarra7?!" Layal gasped.

"Eee akeed ohwa ma36eech el notes." Noura, Layal's friend, said in a gossipy toned voice.

"Jarra7 yersim? W laish yigouly sorry?" Layal asked, sounding confused.

Was she talking about the notes I left in her locker?

No no no, she thinks it was Jarra7?!

"Eee shefta bel locker room, akeed Jarra7! Kela yikhizich, akeed it must be him saying sorry for being so obvious." Noura continued on.

"I always thought it was..." Layal murmured quietly.

"Thought it was who?" Noura questioned.

"No one, never mind."

Can this day get any worse?

December Memoir.

All I can say is thanks for the beautiful memories,
I'll draw on a smile and live for today, forgetting yesterday's worries,
I won't forget a hushed word, a memorable promise or an old text,
I'll bury them inside the depths of my heart, along with the rest,
I won't shed a wasteful tear or plaster on a frown,
I won't say another word, or keep myself down,
For all the nights that have slipped away,
Was a lesson taught, a new beginning, a new day,
My heart cannot be broken, it's an organ, a piece of me,
My eyes, they can't explain the pain, all they do is see,
They live and shine through the day, hiding a masked secret,
Another breath, another second, another heartbeat, with no regret.

Le Chase Chapter 15

I don't know what to write so I'ma write random stuff. Here's the post:

Food chocolate pepsi diet books Lasse Hansen coke mocha.

THE END.

I'm joking, this was for you Maha, the girl who sent me this silly introduction LOL, so now here's the REAL post.

Oh and this is my last post till after 3id, I have a LOT to do, I also need to sort out university papers unfortunately. Wish me luck! x

- 


Previously in Chapter 14:

Once I was done, I ripped the paper and looked at the drawing.

I successfully drew Layal's eyes, it was the same almond shape and you could clearly see the different splashes of colour and tones in her eyes. I folded the image up into little squares and walked up to Layal's locker.

I was slipping the paper in between the spaces of the locker, my back facing the door of the locker room.

A voice startled me, as if it came out of nowhere.

"What are you doing?" 

-


"W-what?!" I stuttered and turned around in a swift movement, my heart hammering inside my chest. I breathed out a sigh in relief once I found Jarra7 standing in front of me with a grin on his face.

"Shitsawe Thari?" Jarra7's grin widened.

"W-wla shay." I shrugged, the note had slipped inside of Layal's locker smoothly but I didn't know how long Jarra7 was there for, I wasn't sure if he even saw me slip the note inside or not, I couldn't say anything.

"Aha." Jarra7 gave me another one of his suspicious smiles, he didn't bother turning around to leave so I was forced to leave the room myself, acting like nothing happened but inside, the drumming of my heart took over my ear drums.

I avoided Jarra7 as much as possible and he didn't bother asking me for anything else that day, which I greatly appreciated. I was about to grab my stuff, ready to leave but I was surprised by 3abbas, he walked into the cafe with his confidence strut and made his way to the cashier, giving one of the girls his famous grin that made them drool.

"Wein Thari?" I heard his loud voice all the way from the kitchen.

"3abbas!" I waved around, calling out his name from the kitchen. At first he couldn't find me, he looked startled but then he finally saw me through the little window that was on one of the doors, separating the kitchen from the cafe.

"Shitsawe ehni?" I asked 3abbas once I left the kitchen and made my way to the front of the cafe, ignoring the few stares I got from the Kuwaitis seated in, enjoying their molten dark cakes.

"Khan ne6la3." 3abbas gave me a slight frown, trying to give me his best imitation of puppy eyes. It didn't work, he was a grown man with bulging muscles daring to rip from his Hollister shirt with sharp features.

"Wein tabe?" I said whilst pulling off the stinky Chocolate Bar apron off of my jumper.

"Enta bas t3al." 3abbas said in a stern voice which indicated that he was hiding something. Farah was standing next to me, her ears on high alert, listening to our conversation.

"Okaaaay." I gave 3abbas a strange look before leaving the cafe with him. He assured me we'd be back to get my car, he wanted to drive me to this "place" himself. He would avoid my questions when we were on our way, he wouldn't give me any hints and he took a route I never took before, making it harder on me figuring out where we were on our way to.

I impatiently watched the trees that passed 3abbas's Audi tinted windows, my fingers tapping nervously over my knee. The AC hit my cheek every once in a while, making my cheeks shiver in the already chilly weather.

"3abbas yalla, wein ray7een?" I turned my head to face him, he hasn't said a word for ten agonizing minutes now.

"Bitshouf." 3abbas kept his face emotionless.

"Hff," I grunted, running my fingers through my wavy hair.

After another ten long minutes, 3abbas parked the Audi around an alleyway that was surrounded with buildings that had chipped paintings. Were we in Salmiya? The neighborhood looked dark and quiet, not the usual places I'd go with my friends.

"Uhm, where are we?" I scratched my earlobe and looked over to 3abbas in confusion.

"3abbas!" I called out, 3abbas had already pulled the handle of the driver's door open and had climbed out of the car. I did the same, leaving the car myself. We were surrounded by buildings, there was a highway road next to us with beeping cars whizzing past us. I caught a whiff of the icky smell of petrol and gasoline that surrounded me, making me stop in my tracks.

"Shfeek wagif chithe? T3al!" 3abbas gestured to what was in front of him, which was a two story building with black tinted windows, hiding the insides of the chipped building.

"Wein ray7een?" I finally surrendered and forced myself to follow him into the building, the floors creaked under our heavy weights, showing how many years the building had to withstand.

"You'll see." I watched 3abbas climb the stairs, his foot stomping over the withered structure of them as I silently followed. We finally reach a door on the first floor, it had a rusted number over the door that said "104". 3abbas punched his fist into the wooden door, knocking heavily over it, his knuckles looking painfully strong.

"Gee Man!" 3abbas bellowed, after a few seconds, I heard locks crickle crackle around before the door was successfully opened. A man with ivory like skin and big gaping eyes stood in front of us, he wore a regular plaid shirt with a shaggy looking beanie over his messy hair.

"Welcome welcome." He gave us a toothy smile, his voice sounding shaky, I noticed one of his teeth was missing. 3abbas pulled me from my arm, forcing me to enter the beat up apartment.

It was a tiny, not cosy, room that held a few couches and a bed cramped in the corner of the room. It reeked of pizzas and smelly unwashed clothes.

"You have it?" 3abbas bumped his shoulder with the man. The man's eyebrows shot up in excitement.

"Yes, do you have the money?" The man asked back, his hands twitching, ready to grab at any paper that resembled money.

What the heck was going on?

3abbas thrusted what looked like several notes of 10KDs into the man's wrinkled hands, the man gave him a little plastic bag filled with substance, as well as some kind of paper.

It looked like cigarettes. The kinds that weren't sold in public... because they were illegal.

I had to get out of here.

"3abbas shitsawe?!" I hissed to 3abbas once the man turned around, giving us his back so he could silently count his money.

"Ushh, shfeek?" 3abbas gave me an annoyed glance.

"Shnu hatha?!" I extended my hand to thrust a finger towards his hands that was clutching the little plastic bag.

"Kela zegeyar, shd3wa." 3abbas gave me an easy grin, he opened the little plastic bag with his meaty fingers, there was a little cigarette that was already rolled up and ready. He glided two fingers in and grabbed it, his other hand held a lighter.

"3abbas la2." I tried stopping him by trying to steal the cigarette away from his reach but he was too quick. He lit the cigarette and an addictive smell hissed out of the little butt of the cigarette. I tried not to inhale any of the chemicals but they were already sneaking up and slithering into my nostrils, making me feel a bit dizzy.

3abbas tucked in the cigarette in between his lips before sucking in a lungful of the deadly substance, I couldn't stop him but I had to get away from him, the smell stuck to every fiber of my clothes and it was addictive, the smell was that strong, it had already affected me.

I was already hurrying down the stairs, leaving 3abbas on his own. I wasn't going to get myself into this messed up situation, I hailed myself a taxi and texted 3abbas, telling him I was going home alone. He didn't bother stopping me and he didn't bother replying to my text either.

I was beyond shocked by his behaviour. I kept trying to rack my brain for some kind of answer on why 3abbas even asked me to go with him in the first place. The taxi smelled of Indian old perfume and corn dogs, it wasn't the best smell but it was far better than the dizzying one I inhaled back in that apartment.

To pass by time, I checked my blog twitter. I had that feeling where I just needed to speak to someone, someone I could trust, someone who wouldn't doubt me or get the wrong idea about me. I wasn't used to the talking thing but I wanted it, so bad. Just for a few minutes and then I'll go back to being myself, keeping everything inside.

Someone like Layal.

I messaged her from my blog twitter account with a simple "Hi" and waited patiently for her to reply. This time, it only took her two minutes.

"@LayalAlX: Hey."

"@********: I know we haven't known each other for long, but can I just talk to you?"

"@LayalAlX: Yeah of course.. you alright?:/"

She sounded like she cared. Was it an act? I didn't know, was I still the jerk? Maybe she saw the note?

"@*******: I guess I'm going into a few difficulties at the moment.. haha."

"@LayalAlX: Like..?"

"@********: Like my father marrying a second wife and that's not the worst part, the worst part is my mother knew all along.."

"@LayalAlX: Ouchhh! I'm so sorry.. maybe you can try being nice to the second wife, maybe she isn't that bad.."

"@*******: Et9adgeen I never thought of it in that way.."

"@LayalAlX: Well.. positivity helps. What else is wrong?"

"@********: A very good friend of mine disappointed me today."

"@LayalAlX: You shouldn't depend on people, they're imperfect, they're bound to do mistakes."

"@********: You know, you should be psychiatrist."

"@LayalAlX: Haha I get that a lot!c:"

"@********: I can see why lol. ;p"

"@LayalAlX: I know you're anonymous.. but where are you?"

"@********: In a taxi. No I'm not some hailag dude who doesn't have a car or some kind of better transportation, I just don't have a car right now."

"@LayalAlX: Just because you use a taxi doesn't mean you're hailag you know.. lots of people use taxis, nothing wrong with that."

"@********: Oh sorry.. sorry I didn't mean it in that way."

You jerk, sound a bit more mature.

"@LayalAlX: It's okay, it's the typical Kuwaiti mind."

"@*********: 3yal entay mu Kuwaitya..?"

Her eyes weren't dark brown, I haven't seen such eyes before on a Kuwaiti girl.

"@LayalAlX: My great great great grandmother is half Brazilian. :p"

"@********: That's a lot of greats.. looool. ;p"

"@LayalAlX: Mm yep, are you okay?"

"@********: Are you asking to make sure so you can end the chat or are you asking out of sincerity?"

Woah Thari, what the heck did you just send? You sound more girly than Layal does.

"@LayalAlX: Out of sincerity."

"@********: I'll be fine."

"@LayalAlX: You know, my friends tell me I'm a good listener. So, if you ever feel like talking about this more, I'll be here, as a friend."

As a friend? I hated that word, "friend".

"@*******: Mashkoura Layal.."

"@LayalAlX: Anytime Thari."

Wait what? Thari? How did she know my name?!

"@*******: Thari..?;s"

"@LayalAlX: Eee shfeek, that's your character's name.. :p"

"@********: Oh right hahahah."

I sighed in relief.

Once I was back home, I tipped the taxi driver and left the car. Nothing happened, I didn't do anything wrong, nothing to worry about. 3abbas was a big boy, he could take care of himself. And Layal was there for me now, even though she wasn't really there for me, more like for my blogger personality.. but that was better than nothing, right?

I barged into the house, the door was unlocked today for some reason. I was planning to go straight up to my room but of course, something stopped me.

My father was seated in the living room with his second wife, my mother and sister. It looked like a horrifying image of a not so picture perfect family.

"Thari, t3al." My father called out, not allowing me to escape to my room. I obeyed and walked over to the lavender smelling living room, letting the bright lights hit me. I walked up to my father to lightly kiss his forehead, my face was scrunched up in disgust but he didn't notice it.

"Shal ree7a?" My father snapped at me, his head shooting up in response once I was cinches away from him.

"Ey ree7a?" I nervously replied.

No no no, did I smell like smoke? How could I be so stupid?

"La etchathib!" My father stood up, the veins in his neck were now visible, showing off his sudden anger. He grabbed my jumped, pulling me closer so his oversized nose could sniff at my clothes.

"Marijuana?!" His nostrils flared in fury, his eyes nearly bulging out of his eye sockets.

(*Marijuana is a drug, it's like a cigarette but it has leaves, they wrap it up in a cigarette and smoke from it, it's illegal and of course, 7aram. It makes you dizzy and causes diseases, google for more info.)

Le Chase Chapter 14

Previously in Chapter 13:

There was a little gap in the steel lockers, I looked around me just to be sure no one was watching, I quickly slipped the note in Layal's locker and escaped the room just in time.

But what I found when I left the room, forced me to freeze in my spot in shock.

"Ebrahim! Shitsawe ehny?" Layal's voice was loud, there was a glass thing over one of the doors so I could see there was a tall looking guy, with the same skin and nose as Layal's, he was peeking around the cafe, looking suspicious.

"Bas gelt I'd visit you." Ebrahim, Layal's brother, the brother I was supposed to know, shrugged.
I was busted.

-

-Layal's POV-




 I hoped my voice was loud enough, I saw Thari make his way into the kitchen a minute ago and I purposely told Ebrahim about my new job so he could come in and do his "checking". This meant he would check if there would be too many guys, the types that would just flirt and hit on you and then he'd probably tell me to quit, but of course, all of the guys here were respectable and polite, non of them tried to hit on a girl like those guys in the malls.

I just wanted Ebrahim to show up so I'd see Thari's reaction.

"Yir'9a el manager adish el ma6bakh?" Ebrahim asked me in a childish tone, it was his first time seeing me work and he had never tried out intern/summer or any part time jobs for experience purposes.

"Ferro yiwanes, ma ra7 yigoul shay 3ade." I laughed at his fearful expression, he had a cap over his hair and his eyes were much darker than mine. I ushered him into the kitchen, expecting to find Thari there but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Hatha mnu?" Ebrahim hissed, his eyes following one of the workers, his name was Jarra7.

"Jarra7 Al-X." I replied, my eyes trying to search for Thari's familiar tall height, his messy hair and the beanie he usually wore to work, but the only thing I found was the steal plates that surrounded me and the workers scurrying all over the place, trying to work as fast as possible.

"Ohh, a3arif okhouh." Ebrahim nodded in approval. Kuwait was such a small place. I couldn't just ask Ebrahim if knew a "Thari Al X", then he'd be suspicious on why I'd even ask about a boy so I had to make sure he saw him.

"Ohhh, hathee mnu?" Ebrahim's eyes turned flirtatious once he spotted Farah, wearing an apron that barely covered her naked legs.

"Ebrahim!" I smacked his muscled arm and he laughed in response, his dark eyes twinkling.

"Atghashmar atghashmar!" Ebrahim held up both hands in defence.

"Okay bas?" Ebrahim looked around, looking bored already.

Ugh Thari where are you? 

"I guess-" I was about to say the words but I heard a loud clank! The noise was coming from the small locker room to my left, I quickly turned around and found a shadow of a tall masculine body moving around.

"Offh!" A deep voice groaned out in pain and I could hear other things being thrown over to the ground by accident.

I found him.

"Are you okay?" I said after I pulled the door of the locker room open, trying to hide my evil smile. Ebrahim was right behind me as we both stared at Thari, he was sitting on the cool ground, his hair looking messier than before and the mops were lying next to him, I was guessing the mops toppled over by accident and made him trip over.

He looked like a little boy who just caught for stealing candy.

"Uhm," Thari mumbled, he tried standing back up but the mops made him trip again and fall back down, butt first. I turned around to watch Ebrahim's expression but I was surprised to find Ebahim wasn't even standing behind me anymore, he was too busy chatting up Farah.

I turned back around and found Thari standing now, he was much taller than me and so I had to look up to face him, I could have sworn he looked relieved for a second but now he looked emotionless and confident, his usual self.

"Yalla ana barou7 Layal." Ebrahim called out, I was about to stop him but he was too quick, Farah looked shy and I was pretty sure he got her number.

Darn it, just great, my plan had to mess up by itself.

I faced Thari once again, he was staring at me, holding back a smirk. He was up to something, and I was going to catch him for it.

"Are you okay?" Thari said, trying to not laugh.

"Just great." I said sarcastically, passing him to go to my locker, I just wanted an excuse to give him my back. I could feel his eyes on me for a few minutes before he walked off without another word.

Once I was sure he was gone, I didn't bother opening my locker since I didn't want anything, I left the room and passed Thari when he wasn't looking.

-

-Thari's POV-

"Shfeek?" Jarra7's sudden voice crushed my daydreams and I was back in the kitchen, watching Jarra7 toy with a knife.

"Ha ma feene shay." I smirked to myself, remembering how easily I got out of the Ebrahim and Layal mess.

"Tene7t." Jarra7 laughed at me.

"Oh, asif." I laughed along, scratching the back of my neck, tilting it a bit, making myself seem as if I was trying to stretch but I wanted an excuse to look at Layal. There was a window on the door to the cafe so I could see her perfectly through it, she was leaning back against the counter, her bright eyes were staring at her friend's as her full lips kept moving, she was engrossed into a conversation.

I saw her by the locker room, I was curious if she read my note that I left in her locker but she was already gone when I went to check by the lockers again.

"Jarra7, t7b wa7da?" I asked, breaking the silence. All I could hear were the clink clanks of the forks and spoons around the kitchen, the water swishing around, cleaning the cake smeared dishes.

"H-ha?!" Jarra7 looked startled by my question, his cheeks heating up for a few minutes.

"Ahhh Jarra7 ye7b?" I chuckled, teasing him. His small eyes squinted at me, he had a tall yet thin frame and his eyes were shielded with transparent glasses.

"Heyy ushhh!" Jarra7 turned around quickly, looking scared that someone heard me.

"Mnu elbent?" I chuckled even more, loving his silly reaction. He was so innocent.

"A9lan ma t7bny." Jarra7's shoulders sagged lower, his eyes full of sadness.

"Shdarak?" I asked in a curious tone.

"She doesn't know I even exist." He shrugged, trying to end the subject.

"Laish ma tgouleha?" I tried filling him with confidence.

"Mu men 9ijik 9a7?" Jarra7 looked gobsmacked of my suggestion.

"Ohh, she's that type of girl?" I scratched my beard that I was too lazy to shave off, the small sprouts of hair tickled my fingers.

"That type of girl" meant the type that wasn't so open to go up to, the type of girl that was so respected, it was just obvious that she didn't even know anything about dating and wouldn't even think about it. Those types of girls were impossible to approach.

Just like Layal.

Ugh stop thinking about her, Bdour's easier you know.

I ignored the evil voice inside my head.

"Eee." Jarra7 frowned.

"Noura, mu 9a7?" I said her name, it was so obvious, she was one of Layal's friends and she always wore her hair up in a bun, not bothering to put make up to work but she had flawless skin, she didn't need any. Her frame was petite and thin, she suited Jarra7 perfectly.

"Shdarak?!" Jarra7 looked even more shocked now.

"It's obvious." I laughed, remembering the many times I caught him staring at her when she wasn't looking and then quickly turning around when she looked back at him.

"Ley hal deraja?" Jarra7 sighed, letting go of the knife in his hand and met my eyes.

"Eee." I continued to laugh.

"Ma yi'9a7ik." Jarra7 couldn't control his smile.

"Embala." I kept laughing, it was adorable in a way, it was puppy love. (*puppy love is when two people like each other but are too shy to say it, so they're super shy around each other and show hints that they have crushes on each other. The innocent/cute type of love.)

"Hff al7een shasawe?" Jarra7 sounded serious.

"I'm having girl problems myself, I'm not the one to ask." I replied seriously, my playfulness melting away. I turned to look at Layal again but I couldn't see her anymore, she wasn't in the window's view, her friend was.

"It's obvious with you too, you know." Jarra7 said in a hushed tone.

"Ha?!" I quickly turned my head and faced him.

"You and Layal." Jarra7 hid his smile.

"Shfeena?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Don't act stupid, everyone knows." Jarra7 laughed this time, it was his turn to tease me.

"There's nothing to know." I replied in an annoyed tone. Who is he to talk?

"Sure sure." Jarra7 grinned.

"Go back to work." I wanted to end the subject as soon as possible.

"Who made you manager?" Jarra7 kept laughing, loving the awkward position I was put into.

"Agoul, chub zain? I have work to do." I said in a fake serious tone just so I could walk off to the cashier machine, outside the kitchen, Jarra7 wouldn't stop laughing.

But whilst I was on my way to the cashier, I stopped on my track and decided to turn around and go back into the locker room. I unlocked my locker and got out my drawing pad that I brought with me everywhere. You don't know when inspiration kicked in and you were ready to draw.

I picked up a pencil from the pockets of my jacket and started to trace two simple circles over the paper. After that, I started sketching the shapes properly with the tips of my pencil, shading the sides and filling the little images with details.

I did it pretty fast, I knew Ferro, our manager, would check on us every few minutes to see if we were working or not so I didn't have much time to spare. I didn't have any colours with me but I showed off the different colours in the image by darkening the grey tones where the sides would be more darker and making the tones light when there were more colour.

Once I was done, I ripped the paper and looked at the drawing.

I successfully drew Layal's eyes, it was the same almond shape and you could clearly see the different splashes of colour and tones in her eyes. I folded the image up into little squares and walked up to Layal's locker.

I was slipping the paper in between the spaces of the locker, my back facing the door of the locker room.

A voice startled me, as if it came out of nowhere.

"What are you doing?"

I'M SORRY. - READ THIS.

 Perfect example of "don't judge a book by it's cover"> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mXu9qgIqGU&feature=related

This isn't a story post or a poem or any of my other writing projects, it's just words I hope EVERYONE would read. Even if you're a saint, even if you're a jerk, or someone who simply doesn't care, you still should read this. It may be boring to some of you but after seeing actions from certain people, I knew I had to write this and send this message. This blog isn't just a place where I can write my stories, it's where I can express myself and if you can't handle my opinions then don't read them.

Okay, first, I am NOT perfect, I have my own mistakes and I'm still learning how to become a better person, so when you read my words, I am not telling anyone I'm the perfect saint who never did anything wrong. We humans, are not perfect.

I'm still young but 16 years is enough to see the behaviours of people, especially when you're around them all the time. People don't realise the power of words until they see the after effect. Calling someone fat? Yeah okay, they might not be a size 0 but do you realise how much you've hurt the person? How much the ONE word "fat" can affect them? How about, "you're ugly, you think people like you but no one actually does." Do you realise how these simple words could send someone into depression? It's that serious, don't think "no way, that's just over exaggerating it." Because depression starts at one point and anything small as this may trigger it, especially when these words come from one of your own friends.

People (not saying ALL of you think this way) think it's okay to throw around these words, never thinking about what they're doing to others. Maybe these people deserve the mean comments, maybe they're not nice themselves but would you stoop down to their levels and bully them back?  And then, making fun of what they don't have? So what if they don't have the latest bag or the latest jewels, all of these materialistic things are NOTHING. We are stripped of EVERYTHING on judgement day, riches doesn't define a person, their morals do. One day you could have all the riches in the world but remember, the next day, God can take all of those riches away from you.

I'm not writing this because someone bullied or was mean to me, I was just a person who watched this happen and I was beyond shocked. I realised how many times this had happened, how many times I've watched it happen and tried stopping it, yet it doesn't ever stop, its this never ending cycle, people hurting others, misusing their words. I'm the type of person who can't stay quiet when someone is mistreating another or is doing something wrong, I just can't ignore it and move on, because ignoring it won't solve this.

Our own religion doesn't allow this, how can you? As I said, I am not the perfect saint, I've had my own mistakes but I don't regret them, I believe our mistakes make us who we are today, mistakes happen to teach us lessons. But doing the same mistake over and over again? Where's the lesson taught if you keep continuing doing wrong and hurting people?

That person who you may be calling ugly, anorexic, fat or unwanted (and these are just a FEW examples of the words I hear these days), may be going on diets, using different kinds of pills to become thinner or even fatter, trying to think of plastic surgery, even thinking of suicide. You never know what a person's going through until you TRY to put yourselves in their shoes, do people choose to be this way? God created them this way and I believe God created them beautifully, it's not about how we look on the outside, our looks wither away in time, wrinkles will replace our flawless skins and all we'll have left in the end is our personality, actions and souls. And that's what God judges all of us on, our actions.

So before you go to a person, throwing your hateful words at them, I don't care if you two fought, I don't care if you two hate each other to bits, NO ONE deserves to feel worthless or unwanted in this world, you have been created to live and enjoy the life God gave you, you weren't created to be treated like trash by others and accept this as a way of life.

And by the way, celebrities are people too, they have feelings, they get hurt just like us, would you want to be treated that way? Ask yourself that question whenever you speak to someone, would YOU want someone to call you worthless and disgusting behind your back? Speak about someone how you want be spoken about, put yourselves in their shoes, don't judge them. It's hard not to judge, you can judge a person even when you're not doing it on purpose but try your best not to. Just because others may have different beliefs or different kinds of lives, does not give you the right to not accept them as humans and disrespect them. We were raised better than is.

I apologise to anyone who has felt this way because of me at one time, I may have done my own mistakes when I was younger but I believe you have to be the change you want to see in this world. And to this day, I am still shocked of the words I read/hear everyday, hateful ones that are being sent to the people I love and care about.

Again, sorry for anything I've done. I don't believe I've hurt a person this way but who knows? Like I said, I'm not a perfect saint and anything's possible, people hide their feelings so well these days, you just don't know who you're affecting or hurting anymore.

I'm sorry, to every person I may have hurt in the past.

And for the people who feel this way everyday.

You're not alone, you are one of a kind and don't ever think you're worthless. You were created the way you are for a reason, don't ever change yourself for others. Society will never be pleased and you shouldn't try pleasing them, they're not the people who will be judging you on judgement day. God's opinion is the only opinion you should care about.

Thanks for reading this, I had to write this and I had to get a point across, this wasn't written to offend anyone, and if it did, then I apologise but everyone's entitled to their own opinions.

Le Chase Chapter 13

Akhh this is the first chapter I write as not an Anonymous writer. \o/! THANK YOU for letting me write on my own free time, not pressuring me, you all have been so kind to me, I am so blessed, el7amdellah!

If you find any mistakes, don't be shy about telling me, I didn't check over the post. x:

-

Previously in Chapter 12:

@LayalAlX: You remind me of this guy I work with.. the descriptions in your blog, it's just like him. But unlike you, he's more of a total jerk."

Ouch.

I remembered how mean I was to her when my father angered me earlier today but for some reason, it still hurt to hear her say that.

I decided to ignore her DM for now, I couldn't muster up a reply to that. Bdour tried keeping our conversation alive and continued DMing me, by saying:

"@BdourAlX: what will it take to know who u are? I have a feeling I know u.."

"*****: I'm anonymous."

"@BdourAlX: please? I'll do anything.."

Anything?
 

-



It's been 2 long days, my nostrils were now used to the dusty smell of 3abbas's diwaneya, my back not so happy with the stiff couches I've been sleeping on for two nights. But the time away from the house relaxed me, I didn't have to worry about anyone, just for these two days.


Today, I had to go back. I promised Wath7a I'd be gone for a few days and nothing more. I've avoided talking to Layal or Bdour on my blog account, I still didn't know what to do with the Layal problem, with her thinking I was a jerk and how Bdour was begging me to reveal my identity to her.


The word "anything" attracted me, but what did I want from a girl? Nothing, she was no use to me. For now.

"Akeed ma tabe tig3ad 3ndena akthar?" 3abbas asked me, his charcoal eyes watching me as I messily grabbed my pieces of clothes, digging it into my ash grey duffel bag.

"La2 ma ga9ert m3ay, mashkour." I gave 3abbas an easy smile, zipping my duffel bag shut once I was done packing.

"Don't mention it." He patted my back with his large hand, making me want to topple over for a second but I held my weight, 3abbas was double my size, he had gigantic looking muscles and the gym was his addiction, but my height was a few inches taller than his.

I told him to thank his parents for letting me stay over before I exited the diwaneya, passing the luxurious gardens of his house and finally settling in the Ferrari sports car I managed to steal from my Dad.

I didn't bother calling Mom or my little sister Wath7a, I simply just showed up. I handled my speed with care this time, letting music vibrate out of the sound system as I drove out of 3abbas's block and made my way into ours.

 I parked the car in the familiar parking space outside our house. True, it had been just 2 days but it felt like weeks to me, I was so used to the comfort of the soft sheets of my bed and the familiar smell of different Arabian dishes in the kitchen, and of course, Jenny's non stop chatting that always made me laugh.

It was 2:15pm, usually the time Wath7a would be home from school and the time we'd sit down for lunch. Also, the usual time where my father would most likely not be home. The sun was beating against my vested back, the wind cooling off my skin whilst I stood in front of our mahogany door, not knowing what to do.

Should I knock?

La2 wein ga3deen? America?

I swiped a finger over our velvet coloured doorbell, hearing the sound of bells chime inside our house. In a few minutes, Jenny pulled the door open, her face was pale and she looked startled by me.

"T-thari, y-you back?" She stuttered, her usually neatly bun-ed hair was in a messed up ponytail.

"Uhm, it is my house?" I answered her, my lips parting slightly from confusion.

"Yes yes of course, sorry." Jenny nervously replied, moving away so I could take a step inside. I was about to ask her what was wrong but when I turned to the left, I saw exactly what was wrong.

You see, once you enter our house, you can get the clear view of the living room to your right but to your left, you can see the wide dining room which is attached to another room with a large arch open door, leading to the kitchen.

What I saw you ask? I saw my father, his second wife, my little sister and mother, all seated on one table, their expressions were blank and they picked at their lunch with their forks silently. My mother sat closest to my sister, leaving my father to sit next to his wife. All heads shot up, their eyes staring at me gaping mouth as I stared at them.

"Thari! Radeit!" My mother said in an ecstatic tone.

"Uhm.." I mumbled, still in shock of this scene. Wath7a looked vulnerable, being in the middle of this crude image.

"T3al eg3ad, shfeek wagif chithe?" My father barked at me, his eyes not meeting mine. His second wife, what was her name again? Heba? Or was it stupid lying filthy low life-okay seriously stop it Thari.

"Enshallah." I surrendered, dropping my duffel bag to the floor and walking to over to the dining room, sitting besides my sister, which was furthest away from my father and his wife.

"Sh9ayer?" Wath7a hissed over to me as Jenny grabbed another beautifully designed plate, putting it in front of me. We usually used the regular ones, we only used these beautiful looking ones for special occasions, I didn't understand how this was a special occasion?

"You tell me." I hissed back at Wath7a, she was in her plain private uniform, her hair up in a ponytail and her eyes looking tired from the long morning she probably had. I skipped university for the last two days, I knew I was going to regret it but I couldn't deal with seeing more people.

The meal was quiet, painfully quiet. No one said a word, the only thing I could hear was that annoying woman's munching. I didn't know eating rice was so noisy, until today.

I forced down the food, my tongue feeling metallic, my taste buds not up to tasting anything. I wanted to keep my mouth full, I didn't want to be the one to start the conversation. After lunch was done, I finally was able to escape the dining table with my mom and sister.

My father was a slow eater, he remained at the dining table with Her. Yes, I am totally not saying that woman's name, as of today, I'm referring her as Her.

"What are they doing here?!" I finally got to speak, we were in the living room, my mother seated in front of me and my sister was right next to me.

"Eee! Shyaboun hathoula?!" Wath7a backed me up, her voice echoing around the whole house.

"Wa6ay 9outech!" My mom ordered, her eyes on Wath7a. I felt my sister creep behind me, hiding away slowly.

"Enshallah." Wath7a whispered.

"They're staying with us, she's your father's wife, you have to respect her." The words that slipped out of my mother's mouth astonished me.

"Mu men 9ijech, 9a7?" I was ready to stand up and stalk out of the living room but my mother placed a cool hand over my wrist, keeping me seated.

"He wants another son. W ana kibert, ma agder ayeeb 3yal." Mom's voice seemed more sensitive now, her eyes begging me to understand. Her words hurt me for some reason, I shouldn't care but sadly I did, I was the eldest and I didn't see why he wanted another son. Did he want to replace me? It sure felt that way.

"Divorce him." I shocked myself with my own words, but I knew I wanted the divorce.

"Thari it isn't against our religion for a man to marry more than one wife, he's allowed to have four, why would I divorce him?" My mother's words didn't reach her eyes, she was stating a rule but I knew for sure she didn't like this situation at all.

"Because you're not happy." I replied bluntly, my mother turned her head, not facing me anymore, that meant she was closing the subject.

"Wath7a rou7ay ghayray malabsich, don't you have homework?" Mom said in an emotionless tone.

"Enshallah." Wath7a said once again but I saw the sadness that casted through her eyes before she walked off, going upstairs to change and start on her homework.

I wasn't going to win this argument, I decided to leave and let my mother be alone, she was deep in thought, her eyes staring off into space.

I was back in my room, on my so comfortable bed with my Macbook flipped open. I had to check my emails since the university usually sends me warnings, this time, it was a warning about my absences. I groaned in annoyance, I was about to shut off my Macbook but my twitter app starting hopping around on my dashboard, meaning I got a DM or a mention.

I clicked on twitter and found a new DM from Bdour.

"@BdourAlX: weinik?:p"

Hmm. I scratched the back of my head, should I answer or ignore? I could be bipolar sometimes, I'd talk to people as if I was myself then ignore them for no reason when I was sick of people. Yeah, I could be strange, I wasn't readable.

I decided to reply.

"@*******: Kane."

She replied instantly, as if she was waiting for me.

"@BdourAlX: ha.. are you gonna tell me who you are or..?"

"@*******: Too early."

"@BdourAlX: never too early.."

"@******: Tara mu 8a9eb t3rfeen. :s"

"@BdourAlX: bas abe a3arif!"

7anna! 

I ignored her, even her good looks couldn't change my mind. Again, I was about to sign out but Layal decided to DM me, my frustration and anger melted away at the sight of her username.

"@LayalAlX: Can I get a guy's advice on something?"

"@******: Sure. :p?"

"@LayalAlX: If a guy's mean to you, does it mean he likes you? I know this is kind of like kindergarden all over again but I need an honest opinion."

Was this about me? I wasn't so sure, my jealousy kicked in when I realized that she could be talking about any guy right now.

"@*****: Probably likes you.."

"@LayalAlX: Mm.. okay thanks."

"@*****: No problem."

Weird. I waited for her to dm me again, maybe ask more questions but she didn't.

I finally decided to sign out, my shift at Chocolate Bar was going to start soon, this time, I had an afternoon shift.

I managed to escape the house without running to anyone and drive as fast as I could to Chocolate Bar once I was in my hoodie and shorts, it was a bad combo but I felt hot and cold at the same time, a feeling I enjoyed.

"You're late." Ferro, the manager hissed once I walked in the cake smelling cafe.

"I know." I snapped back at him, grabbing an apron and a name tag before heading right into the kitchen. The first thing I saw was Farah's face, the girl who made up lies about Layal being engaged. I was not in the mood for her.

She noticed me straight away, her hair was up in a bun and her eyes glazed over me.

"Thari!" She chirped happily, not bothering to remember that she lied to me days ago.

"Ahlain." I replied, not meeting her eyes. I gave her my back, getting straight down to work. Layal was by the cashier, her mesmerizing eyes followed me but she didn't utter a word.

"Shfeek?" Farah inched up closer to me, trying to grab my attention.

Hathe mu men 9ejha 9a7?

"I'm busy." I avoided her, keeping my eyes on the cake in front of me.

"Uhm okay?" Farah rolled her eyes, leaving my side.

I couldn't stop thinking about my family's situation, as well as what Layal said about me being a jerk. I just had a gut feeling that it was about me. I tore off a paper from Ferro's pad, which was on the counter. I grabbed a random pen and wrote a little note.


"I'm sorry Layal. Forgive me?" 

Bits of icing was smeared over the note but I didn't care, I folded it into little squares and sneaked my way into the locker room, where the workers kept their clothes and belongings.

It was a little dusty in the locker room and there was only one little bulb twitching over us that granted us light but I knew for sure that Layal's locker was number 15. I caught her using it once when I was trying to get my jacket out of mine.

There was a little gap in the steel lockers, I looked around me just to be sure no one was watching, I quickly slipped the note in Layal's locker and escaped the room just in time.

But what I found when I left the room, forced me to freeze in my spot in shock.

"Ebrahim! Shitsawe ehny?" Layal's voice was loud, there was a glass thing over one of the doors so I could see there was a tall looking guy, with the same skin and nose as Layal's, he was peeking around the cafe, looking suspicious.

"Bas gelt I'd visit you." Ebrahim, Layal's brother, the brother I was supposed to know, shrugged.

I was busted.