This is a longer post than the last one, hope you enjoy it. :D
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"Wath7a.. w-what.." I couldn't find the words, I was muttering. I was in utter shock. Wath7a stared off to the distance, unable to speak either.
I decided to do something else.
I picked up Wath7a's phone again, ignoring her pleading eyes. I clicked on Manal's number and dialed it. I waited impatiently, listening to the "6oo6 6oo6 6oo6", my foot tapping against the rugged floor of Wath7a's bedroom.
"Wathou7, ra7 Thari?" Manal's voice ringed into my ears, leaving the phone. Her voice didn't change at all, it was the same voice I used to yearn for years ago. I felt my feelings rush back, leaving the small hidden locked box I trapped them in.
"La2 lal7een mawjoud ya Manal." I kept my voice steady, showing off my confidence and deeper voice I had now.
I heard Manal gasp on the other end of the phone before she stuttered, "T-t-thari?"
"Who else?" I replied coldly.
"You're the blogger, aren't you? Mu kafi ely feene ya Manal?" I threw my words at her like knives, not bothering to wait for her to talk first. I sounded harsh.
"Thari what are you talking about?" Manal's voice sounded confused. Clueless.
"Laish ga3da t7acheen ekhy? Shtabeen menha? Wakhray 3anha w sakray el blog!" I nearly yelled angrily into the phone, Wath7a jumped up a bit. She was startled by my frightening voice.
"Thari ana ma kitebt blog! Wla baktib!" Manal yelled back at me, her words sounding sincere.
"Manal entay el wa7eeda..." My words and frustration faded away when I suddenly realised something.
"Digeega Manal..." I suddenly pulled away from the blackberry, exiting the call without closing it and went into the calls section. Apparently Wath7a called Manal, every call was Wath7a's. Manal wasn't the one who called her. I turned around and faced my sister, she didn't look too innocent anymore. She looked like an enemy.
"Entay." I said in astonishment. "Entay kitebtay el blog, shloun... Laish..." I stuttered, unable to speak.
How did Wath7a even know about the details? How'd she ever find out that I had an ex called Manal? How'd she find her number and why would she turn the story around? What was going on?
"T-thari allah yekhaleek, la etgoul 7ag omy." Wath7a choked out her words, her eyes full of fearful tears.
"Wath7a, jawbeeny!" I snapped at her. Wath7a didn't reply, she was speechless. I decided to press the phone back up against my ear. If Wath7a wasn't going to answer me then Manal was.
"Manal, gouleeli kilashay al7een." I said in a stern voice through the phone. I heard Manal breathe nervously, she was afraid of me and I loved every second of her fear.
"Ekhtik daget 3lay w b3dain, uhm.." Manal wouldn't budge.
"Kamlay!" My anger was growing by the second.
"I lied about everything." Manal said in a hushed tone. I breathed out in relief for a second once I knew my sister wasn't the one who lied about the whole story.
"But how did she even find out about us?" I stared at Wath7a, her eyes wouldn't meet mine.
"Are you serious? All the girls know about you being a player. It wasn't hard to find out who you dated!" Wath7a's words were quiet but they were pretty harsh, even to me. "Ma tisti7y Thari? Etsawi chithe eb Manal?"
"Wath7a siktay! Entay malich sheghil feene w kalmeeny 3adil, tara ana mu wa7d men your friends etkalmeeny chithe, fahma?!" I was surprised by her sudden attitude.
"What if I did what you did, ha Thari? I'd be dead by now but just because you're doing this you think it's okay? Seriously what's with you guys? 3balkom 3ade etkalmoun bas e7na banat ma y9eer, if we look at a guy for one second we get a slap, you guys, you can do anything you want and get nothing at all!" Wath7a's eyes shot up and her eyes were venomous. "At the end of the day, this is all wrong, wether you're a guy or a girl!"
Her words were too mature for her age, where was she getting all of this from? I couldn't think of this right now, I let the bad thoughts take over me, I couldn't listen to my conscience. Not now, not when my own sister was behind the whole blog scheme.
"What are you implying on? Etkalmeen Wath7a? Mnu el 9bay?!" I couldn't think straight, thoughts were filling up my head and my words hit Wath7a back.
"Akeed la2! Check my phone, it's in your hand isn't it? Tabe el password for my twitter b3ad? I'm not the player here, you are." Wath7a gave me a disgusted look, her eyebrows knitting together.
"Wath7a I didn't lie to Manal about dying, she did that to me, it wasn't me, okay? Why am I even telling you this?" I sighed, my anger evaporating after hearing her words. My sister wasn't like me, she wasn't bound to do the things I've done, I felt guilty for accusing her.
"It wasn't?" Wath7a's fuming expression melted away and her eyes softened.
"Manal, gouleleha kilashay, w hal mara, tell her the true story." I said into the blackberry before handing it over to Wath7a.
My sister looked surprised and absolutely speechless. Suddenly, I didn't want to know how she got a hold of Manal's number. I just wanted this to be over with. I wanted this to end. I wanted my sister to look up to me, not down.
"And by the way, I've changed." I said to Wath7a before turning around to leave the room, shutting the door with a bang.
I couldn't believe it, my actions were affecting my own little sister. It grabbed my mother's attention, angered girls and gave me a bad reputation, I couldn't let this go any longer.
And I couldn't let my father play my own mother either.
Do you know when you just feel like you need to get away? Take a break from everything? And have a new page, no mistakes this times and no regrets? Just a second chance, to do everything again, but this time, do things the right way.
I made my way to my room, locking the door behind me. I went over to my blog account and stared at the growing number of followers. Thoughts kept flying around in my head.
How did I not see this? My own sister loved books, loved writing, it was only natural for her to start blogging but I wouldn't have expected it to be my ex's story.
Sorry, scratch that. My ex's FAKE story.
I needed a clean slate. I needed to change. I can't let a person's cruelty harden my heart. And I couldn't let my mistakes backfire.
I quickly sat on my cushion-y leather chair and flicked open my Macbook. I checked the blogger's-sorry, I mean, my sister's blog once again and I saw that she tweeted something. I read the following words:
"Sorry readers, this blog wasn't true, I lied about everything. :)"
There was so much hate on her ask account, people accusing her of lying, others accusing her of being a total b*tch for misleading her readers. Her blog chapters were deleted and she tweeted again saying that the twitter was going to be deactivated in an hour.
I was about to do the same with my blog, close everything and delete the posts but then I saw a new DM from a name that caught my attention.
"@LayalAlX: Heey! Wow your blog is amazing mashallah, I can't believe that this story is true. I can't stop reading everything! When's the next post?;p"
The avatar was of Layal. Yes, THE Layal.
Her skin was bronzed, showing off a summer tan when in reality, she was paler because of the chilly weather. Her colourful eyes were brighter in the picture, her lips fuller and next to her, was another girl with a veil around her, they were both smiling at the camera in a goofy way. I checked her following they were mostly girls, except for a few guys from her school or who are related to her.
I decided to do something else.
I deleted everything, my posts and created a new blog website. I tweeted the following:
"Sorry guys, I deleted this story but there will be a new story coming soon!"
And then, I replied to Layal's DM.
"@********: Lol thank you. But there will be a new story now, the old one sucks. :p"
She replied instantly.
"@LayalAlX: Laaa2 laaaaish!?:( I loved the story so much!"
I smiled at her DM, chuckling to myself.
"@******: La2 walla mu 7ilu.:p"
"@LayalAlX: Agoulech walla 7lu. -.-"
"@******: Umm, ana 9bay..."
"@LayalAlX: Oh... sorry."
"@*****: La2 3ade:p which college do you go to?"
I already knew what the answer would be but I wanted to act like I didn't know her at all. And I wanted to start a conversation, just to get my mind off of things.
"@LayalAlX: Non."
Non?
I squinted at the bright screen, her attitude suddenly changed once she figured that I was a guy.
Man, this girl was strange.
"@******: Aha ok cool. :p"
I waited.
No reply.
She tweeted a couple of times but she didn't try to continue the conversation with me. I scratched the back of my head, unable to figure this girl out.
"THARI? WATH7A? GHADA!" I heard my mother yell from downstairs, her voice echoing through the whole house.
"Kane yaay!" I yelled back. I changed out of my winter clothes and replaced them with comfortable shorts and a sleeveless shirt. I was still in shock about the whole blog thing and a bit confused after hearing Manal's voice, but at the same time, I was content. However, Layal's behaviour still clouded around in my head, making me feel puzzled.
I hurried downstairs, my feet sliding over the marble floors easily as I walked into the large dining room. My father wasn't here, as usual. It was just Mom, Wath7a and me. It always felt like this was our family, no Dad at all and I didn't mind his absence anymore, I preferred it.
Wath7a looked happy, she gave me more warm smiles now and she didn't stick her head into her phone, which she usually does when I try to start a conversation with her. She usually tries to avoid me and I never knew the reason to it. I guess it was because she was disgusted by my actions, but I guess she isn't anymore. I got my second chance and I was glad.
"3ajeeb el mchbous!" I mumbled, my mouth full of boiled rice and heated meat. (*Mchbous la7am: It's a Kuwaiti dish.)
"3awafe." Mom laughed at my silliness, her pearly teeth illuminating. A sudden shot of pain hit me when I saw her smile, I didn't want to be the purpose of her smile vanishing. I couldn't tell her about Dad's affair. Not now, not ever.
"Shfeek yuma?" Mom felt my sudden change of emotion.
"Ma feene shay." I pointed to the food, indicating that I was too full to smile properly. She laughed again, buying my whole act.
"Yebtly chocolate cake?" Wath7a said, her braces filled with pieces of juicy meat. Usually I'd laugh at the image of her but this time, I just couldn't. My heart went out for my mother.
"Bayeeblch bacher etha dawemt." I replied to Wath7a, hiding my uneasiness.
"Heya!" Wath7a cheered. Seriously, this girl does not look like a 13/14 year old.
After lunch, Wath7a went up to her room and my mother was in the living room, watching her usual Turrkish series. Jenny cleaned up the dishes and this time, I decided to help out. Yes, I was totally avoiding my mom.
"Thari, what are you doing? You cannot clean anything, go sit with Madame, let me clean myself." Jenny looked crossly at me. I was in the white countered kitchen, my hands dug deep into the bubbly sink, trying to scrub off the stains off of the golden designed plates.
"No no Jenny, I will help." I wiped the beads of sweat forming over my forehead with the back of my hand.
"Putan2anemo! You only wash one dish and you are already sweating?!" Jenny shook her head in disbelief. (*I think it means screw you, shay chithe in filipino.)
"What did you just say?" I started laughing like crazy, letting go of the wet plates, causing a loud clank to echo through the kitchen.
"I say a bad word in Filipino." Jenny gave me an evil smile, her wrinkles forming around her Asian eyes.
"Don't make me swear at you in Arabic." I challenged her.
"I know all the swear words in Arabic, you think me dumb haa?" Jenny shook her head at me, her ponytail swishing around a bit as she grabbed the sponge from my hand and started cleaning the dishes herself.
"Wath7a taught you, didn't she?" I cursed Wath7a mentally for teaching Jenny. We used to trick Jenny when we were kids, speaking in Arabic when she didn't know much of our language, the old days when she was still new.
"Wath7a is nice, not like you. Kili mabahou2." Jenny fired another Filipino word at me. (*This means "your armpits smell" in Filipino.)
"Agoul, khala9 barou7 mama." I held up my hands in surrender, she won me over with the Filipino remarks. I was forced to leave the kitchen and join my mother in the living room.
"Shfeek elyoum? awal mara t7awil etsa3id Jenny." Mom shook her head at me whilst laughing once I entered the lit up living room.
"Madry, taghyeer." I shrugged.
Never. Go. Into. That. Kitchen. Again. Thari.
I mentally put that into my head, Jenny was a fierce housekeeper.
"Shsaweit elyoum? Solifly yalla." Mom tore her eyes away from the TV and planted them right on me. I suddenly grew nervous, my fingers tapping against my thigh.
"Uhm, ma saweit shay. Dawemt w bas." I shrugged again, trying to avoid her eyes, so I stared at the TV. It was like her eyes were lasers, inspecting me. My mom was worse than the FBI.
"You're hiding something from me." Mom stated, her fluent English rolling off of her tongue. She always speaks in English when she's super serious, it's like her attack mode.
"Ana? Laaaaaa. Hey shoufay, isn't that your Turkish series? Bida." I gave Mom a fake grin. I should have gone upstairs instead of here, I shouldn't have come here. I was horrible at acting. I'm so stupid.
"Thari, la etchathib." Mom didn't even look at the TV for a second, she stood her ground.
"Yuma wla shay 9ar, 8a9eb y9eer shay?" I huffed in fake annoyance.
"You can't hide stuff from your own mother." Mom's eyes looked at me in a disapproving way, her naturally thin eyebrows moving around a bit.
"I'll keep that in mind." I replied in an emotionless tone, trying not to give anything away. Mom sighed in response, ending the subject. She started watching the Turkish series, not speaking to me. I took this as cue to leave the living room.
I was nearly successful with my escape but something got in my way. More like someone. You see, there's an entrance door right next to the living room. We have three doors, one entrance door, one back door for the parking area and one that leads you to the pool, as well as the garden.
The entrance door was pulled open and my father entered the house with a blank expression on his face. Usually, I'd ignore his presence and continue my way to my room, to continue whatever I had to do for university.
But this time.
Oh no, this time.
His wh*re was right behind him, her heels sliding over the floors of our house, her face full of confidence and her body cocooned by a tight dress, showing off her filthy curves.
"Oooh 7beeby, hatha Thari, wildik?" The gingered woman stood a few feet away from me as she purred. Her red manicured hand was resting over his arm, while he kept his head drooped down low.
"Thari.." My father began to say, I stood in front of them, shocked. How did he.. How did he have the nerve to bring her to our house?! My mother was in the living room, there was a wall blocking her view of the entrance door so she couldn't see us. I couldn't let her see this.
"Meet my wife Thari." My father said in a shameful voice. I was about to reply.
I was about to punch the b*stard's face.
But one quiet voice stopped me.
My mother's.
"Zaid?"
Feedback: @vieblogue
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"Wath7a.. w-what.." I couldn't find the words, I was muttering. I was in utter shock. Wath7a stared off to the distance, unable to speak either.
I decided to do something else.
I picked up Wath7a's phone again, ignoring her pleading eyes. I clicked on Manal's number and dialed it. I waited impatiently, listening to the "6oo6 6oo6 6oo6", my foot tapping against the rugged floor of Wath7a's bedroom.
"Wathou7, ra7 Thari?" Manal's voice ringed into my ears, leaving the phone. Her voice didn't change at all, it was the same voice I used to yearn for years ago. I felt my feelings rush back, leaving the small hidden locked box I trapped them in.
"La2 lal7een mawjoud ya Manal." I kept my voice steady, showing off my confidence and deeper voice I had now.
I heard Manal gasp on the other end of the phone before she stuttered, "T-t-thari?"
"Who else?" I replied coldly.
"You're the blogger, aren't you? Mu kafi ely feene ya Manal?" I threw my words at her like knives, not bothering to wait for her to talk first. I sounded harsh.
"Thari what are you talking about?" Manal's voice sounded confused. Clueless.
"Laish ga3da t7acheen ekhy? Shtabeen menha? Wakhray 3anha w sakray el blog!" I nearly yelled angrily into the phone, Wath7a jumped up a bit. She was startled by my frightening voice.
"Thari ana ma kitebt blog! Wla baktib!" Manal yelled back at me, her words sounding sincere.
"Manal entay el wa7eeda..." My words and frustration faded away when I suddenly realised something.
"Digeega Manal..." I suddenly pulled away from the blackberry, exiting the call without closing it and went into the calls section. Apparently Wath7a called Manal, every call was Wath7a's. Manal wasn't the one who called her. I turned around and faced my sister, she didn't look too innocent anymore. She looked like an enemy.
"Entay." I said in astonishment. "Entay kitebtay el blog, shloun... Laish..." I stuttered, unable to speak.
How did Wath7a even know about the details? How'd she ever find out that I had an ex called Manal? How'd she find her number and why would she turn the story around? What was going on?
"T-thari allah yekhaleek, la etgoul 7ag omy." Wath7a choked out her words, her eyes full of fearful tears.
"Wath7a, jawbeeny!" I snapped at her. Wath7a didn't reply, she was speechless. I decided to press the phone back up against my ear. If Wath7a wasn't going to answer me then Manal was.
"Manal, gouleeli kilashay al7een." I said in a stern voice through the phone. I heard Manal breathe nervously, she was afraid of me and I loved every second of her fear.
"Ekhtik daget 3lay w b3dain, uhm.." Manal wouldn't budge.
"Kamlay!" My anger was growing by the second.
"I lied about everything." Manal said in a hushed tone. I breathed out in relief for a second once I knew my sister wasn't the one who lied about the whole story.
"But how did she even find out about us?" I stared at Wath7a, her eyes wouldn't meet mine.
"Are you serious? All the girls know about you being a player. It wasn't hard to find out who you dated!" Wath7a's words were quiet but they were pretty harsh, even to me. "Ma tisti7y Thari? Etsawi chithe eb Manal?"
"Wath7a siktay! Entay malich sheghil feene w kalmeeny 3adil, tara ana mu wa7d men your friends etkalmeeny chithe, fahma?!" I was surprised by her sudden attitude.
"What if I did what you did, ha Thari? I'd be dead by now but just because you're doing this you think it's okay? Seriously what's with you guys? 3balkom 3ade etkalmoun bas e7na banat ma y9eer, if we look at a guy for one second we get a slap, you guys, you can do anything you want and get nothing at all!" Wath7a's eyes shot up and her eyes were venomous. "At the end of the day, this is all wrong, wether you're a guy or a girl!"
Her words were too mature for her age, where was she getting all of this from? I couldn't think of this right now, I let the bad thoughts take over me, I couldn't listen to my conscience. Not now, not when my own sister was behind the whole blog scheme.
"What are you implying on? Etkalmeen Wath7a? Mnu el 9bay?!" I couldn't think straight, thoughts were filling up my head and my words hit Wath7a back.
"Akeed la2! Check my phone, it's in your hand isn't it? Tabe el password for my twitter b3ad? I'm not the player here, you are." Wath7a gave me a disgusted look, her eyebrows knitting together.
"Wath7a I didn't lie to Manal about dying, she did that to me, it wasn't me, okay? Why am I even telling you this?" I sighed, my anger evaporating after hearing her words. My sister wasn't like me, she wasn't bound to do the things I've done, I felt guilty for accusing her.
"It wasn't?" Wath7a's fuming expression melted away and her eyes softened.
"Manal, gouleleha kilashay, w hal mara, tell her the true story." I said into the blackberry before handing it over to Wath7a.
My sister looked surprised and absolutely speechless. Suddenly, I didn't want to know how she got a hold of Manal's number. I just wanted this to be over with. I wanted this to end. I wanted my sister to look up to me, not down.
"And by the way, I've changed." I said to Wath7a before turning around to leave the room, shutting the door with a bang.
I couldn't believe it, my actions were affecting my own little sister. It grabbed my mother's attention, angered girls and gave me a bad reputation, I couldn't let this go any longer.
And I couldn't let my father play my own mother either.
Do you know when you just feel like you need to get away? Take a break from everything? And have a new page, no mistakes this times and no regrets? Just a second chance, to do everything again, but this time, do things the right way.
I made my way to my room, locking the door behind me. I went over to my blog account and stared at the growing number of followers. Thoughts kept flying around in my head.
How did I not see this? My own sister loved books, loved writing, it was only natural for her to start blogging but I wouldn't have expected it to be my ex's story.
Sorry, scratch that. My ex's FAKE story.
I needed a clean slate. I needed to change. I can't let a person's cruelty harden my heart. And I couldn't let my mistakes backfire.
I quickly sat on my cushion-y leather chair and flicked open my Macbook. I checked the blogger's-sorry, I mean, my sister's blog once again and I saw that she tweeted something. I read the following words:
"Sorry readers, this blog wasn't true, I lied about everything. :)"
There was so much hate on her ask account, people accusing her of lying, others accusing her of being a total b*tch for misleading her readers. Her blog chapters were deleted and she tweeted again saying that the twitter was going to be deactivated in an hour.
I was about to do the same with my blog, close everything and delete the posts but then I saw a new DM from a name that caught my attention.
"@LayalAlX: Heey! Wow your blog is amazing mashallah, I can't believe that this story is true. I can't stop reading everything! When's the next post?;p"
The avatar was of Layal. Yes, THE Layal.
Her skin was bronzed, showing off a summer tan when in reality, she was paler because of the chilly weather. Her colourful eyes were brighter in the picture, her lips fuller and next to her, was another girl with a veil around her, they were both smiling at the camera in a goofy way. I checked her following they were mostly girls, except for a few guys from her school or who are related to her.
I decided to do something else.
I deleted everything, my posts and created a new blog website. I tweeted the following:
"Sorry guys, I deleted this story but there will be a new story coming soon!"
And then, I replied to Layal's DM.
"@********: Lol thank you. But there will be a new story now, the old one sucks. :p"
She replied instantly.
"@LayalAlX: Laaa2 laaaaish!?:( I loved the story so much!"
I smiled at her DM, chuckling to myself.
"@******: La2 walla mu 7ilu.:p"
"@LayalAlX: Agoulech walla 7lu. -.-"
"@******: Umm, ana 9bay..."
"@LayalAlX: Oh... sorry."
"@*****: La2 3ade:p which college do you go to?"
I already knew what the answer would be but I wanted to act like I didn't know her at all. And I wanted to start a conversation, just to get my mind off of things.
"@LayalAlX: Non."
Non?
I squinted at the bright screen, her attitude suddenly changed once she figured that I was a guy.
Man, this girl was strange.
"@******: Aha ok cool. :p"
I waited.
No reply.
She tweeted a couple of times but she didn't try to continue the conversation with me. I scratched the back of my head, unable to figure this girl out.
"THARI? WATH7A? GHADA!" I heard my mother yell from downstairs, her voice echoing through the whole house.
"Kane yaay!" I yelled back. I changed out of my winter clothes and replaced them with comfortable shorts and a sleeveless shirt. I was still in shock about the whole blog thing and a bit confused after hearing Manal's voice, but at the same time, I was content. However, Layal's behaviour still clouded around in my head, making me feel puzzled.
I hurried downstairs, my feet sliding over the marble floors easily as I walked into the large dining room. My father wasn't here, as usual. It was just Mom, Wath7a and me. It always felt like this was our family, no Dad at all and I didn't mind his absence anymore, I preferred it.
Wath7a looked happy, she gave me more warm smiles now and she didn't stick her head into her phone, which she usually does when I try to start a conversation with her. She usually tries to avoid me and I never knew the reason to it. I guess it was because she was disgusted by my actions, but I guess she isn't anymore. I got my second chance and I was glad.
"3ajeeb el mchbous!" I mumbled, my mouth full of boiled rice and heated meat. (*Mchbous la7am: It's a Kuwaiti dish.)
"3awafe." Mom laughed at my silliness, her pearly teeth illuminating. A sudden shot of pain hit me when I saw her smile, I didn't want to be the purpose of her smile vanishing. I couldn't tell her about Dad's affair. Not now, not ever.
"Shfeek yuma?" Mom felt my sudden change of emotion.
"Ma feene shay." I pointed to the food, indicating that I was too full to smile properly. She laughed again, buying my whole act.
"Yebtly chocolate cake?" Wath7a said, her braces filled with pieces of juicy meat. Usually I'd laugh at the image of her but this time, I just couldn't. My heart went out for my mother.
"Bayeeblch bacher etha dawemt." I replied to Wath7a, hiding my uneasiness.
"Heya!" Wath7a cheered. Seriously, this girl does not look like a 13/14 year old.
After lunch, Wath7a went up to her room and my mother was in the living room, watching her usual Turrkish series. Jenny cleaned up the dishes and this time, I decided to help out. Yes, I was totally avoiding my mom.
"Thari, what are you doing? You cannot clean anything, go sit with Madame, let me clean myself." Jenny looked crossly at me. I was in the white countered kitchen, my hands dug deep into the bubbly sink, trying to scrub off the stains off of the golden designed plates.
"No no Jenny, I will help." I wiped the beads of sweat forming over my forehead with the back of my hand.
"Putan2anemo! You only wash one dish and you are already sweating?!" Jenny shook her head in disbelief. (*I think it means screw you, shay chithe in filipino.)
"What did you just say?" I started laughing like crazy, letting go of the wet plates, causing a loud clank to echo through the kitchen.
"I say a bad word in Filipino." Jenny gave me an evil smile, her wrinkles forming around her Asian eyes.
"Don't make me swear at you in Arabic." I challenged her.
"I know all the swear words in Arabic, you think me dumb haa?" Jenny shook her head at me, her ponytail swishing around a bit as she grabbed the sponge from my hand and started cleaning the dishes herself.
"Wath7a taught you, didn't she?" I cursed Wath7a mentally for teaching Jenny. We used to trick Jenny when we were kids, speaking in Arabic when she didn't know much of our language, the old days when she was still new.
"Wath7a is nice, not like you. Kili mabahou2." Jenny fired another Filipino word at me. (*This means "your armpits smell" in Filipino.)
"Agoul, khala9 barou7 mama." I held up my hands in surrender, she won me over with the Filipino remarks. I was forced to leave the kitchen and join my mother in the living room.
"Shfeek elyoum? awal mara t7awil etsa3id Jenny." Mom shook her head at me whilst laughing once I entered the lit up living room.
"Madry, taghyeer." I shrugged.
Never. Go. Into. That. Kitchen. Again. Thari.
I mentally put that into my head, Jenny was a fierce housekeeper.
"Shsaweit elyoum? Solifly yalla." Mom tore her eyes away from the TV and planted them right on me. I suddenly grew nervous, my fingers tapping against my thigh.
"Uhm, ma saweit shay. Dawemt w bas." I shrugged again, trying to avoid her eyes, so I stared at the TV. It was like her eyes were lasers, inspecting me. My mom was worse than the FBI.
"You're hiding something from me." Mom stated, her fluent English rolling off of her tongue. She always speaks in English when she's super serious, it's like her attack mode.
"Ana? Laaaaaa. Hey shoufay, isn't that your Turkish series? Bida." I gave Mom a fake grin. I should have gone upstairs instead of here, I shouldn't have come here. I was horrible at acting. I'm so stupid.
"Thari, la etchathib." Mom didn't even look at the TV for a second, she stood her ground.
"Yuma wla shay 9ar, 8a9eb y9eer shay?" I huffed in fake annoyance.
"You can't hide stuff from your own mother." Mom's eyes looked at me in a disapproving way, her naturally thin eyebrows moving around a bit.
"I'll keep that in mind." I replied in an emotionless tone, trying not to give anything away. Mom sighed in response, ending the subject. She started watching the Turkish series, not speaking to me. I took this as cue to leave the living room.
I was nearly successful with my escape but something got in my way. More like someone. You see, there's an entrance door right next to the living room. We have three doors, one entrance door, one back door for the parking area and one that leads you to the pool, as well as the garden.
The entrance door was pulled open and my father entered the house with a blank expression on his face. Usually, I'd ignore his presence and continue my way to my room, to continue whatever I had to do for university.
But this time.
Oh no, this time.
His wh*re was right behind him, her heels sliding over the floors of our house, her face full of confidence and her body cocooned by a tight dress, showing off her filthy curves.
"Oooh 7beeby, hatha Thari, wildik?" The gingered woman stood a few feet away from me as she purred. Her red manicured hand was resting over his arm, while he kept his head drooped down low.
"Thari.." My father began to say, I stood in front of them, shocked. How did he.. How did he have the nerve to bring her to our house?! My mother was in the living room, there was a wall blocking her view of the entrance door so she couldn't see us. I couldn't let her see this.
"Meet my wife Thari." My father said in a shameful voice. I was about to reply.
I was about to punch the b*stard's face.
But one quiet voice stopped me.
My mother's.
"Zaid?"
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