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.
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.
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