The Tale Of A Broken Heart

Hey Masqueraders! This is a story I wanted to write for you guys and you guys inspired this one. I got a lot of real people, real readers to submit their stories and looks on my ask. The two people I picked were anonymous but once they read this, they'll know who they are. This isn't 100% true by the way! And I DO NOT know who these people are so don't bother spamming me or harassing me to know. They were all anonymous, it was easier to write when I didn't know who the person was, so I could add fictional parts and so on.  Hope you like this post, I'm travelling tomorrow morning and wanted to post something for all you beautiful lovely people. :D


This is a little different to what I usually write!

-


"Zaina? Shga3da etsaween?" A voice scared Zaina, startling her. She was doodling in her History notebook, ignoring the boring sounds of her professor in her class as her best friend, Fahda, sitting next to her. Zaina looked up from her book to catch those familiar dark eyes that she used to and still, loved so much.

“Uhm, wela shay, laish?” Zaina snapped her notebook shut, avoiding the dark eyes of Nasser. Fahda watched both of them, her mouth formed a slight ‘o’ as she was becoming more and more entertained by the whole conversation. Zaina tried not to give her best friend a laser glare.

“Oh, bas kent bas2lch su2al 3an el mu7athara,” Nasser continued on, his face seemed a bit nervous and shy. His hair was messily pulled back with some gel, to show off his handsome features, the left dimple Zaina loves so much and the small scar over his right eyebrow from his buggy accident last year. Just the sight of him, made her die a little more inside.

“El professor warak, ask him,” Zaina pushed away the softness that was growing inside of her and became steel hard. The history behind their story kept her ice cold.

“Oh okay,” he seemed weirdly disappointed, he frowned and walked away, his shorts slung low on his waist and Zaina remembered the millions times she would joke about how low he would wear his shorts and how silly he looked. She secretly loved this about him but used it as an excuse to talk to him for an extra hour on the phone through those endless nights of theirs.

Zaina, remember, he broke your heart, keep that in your head. A voice hissed in her head and made her ignore those lovely memories she cherished so much with Nasser.

“Hatha shyabe? Yaylich al7een? After what he did?” Fahda leaned in, her voice sounding snide. She was watching Nasser leave the already empty classroom with a dirty look on her face. Her hair was put up in a messed up ponytail, her eyes dead tired from the morning classes but she still looked as pure and beautiful as she always did, her almond shaped eyes full of dark deep eyelashes and her nude lips usually being drawn into a smile. But today, she was definitely cranky as ever.

“Madre 3ana,” Zaina shrugged, throwing her fingers deep into her long hair to massage her scalp, the headache easing deep into her mind.

“Hey, la tensain, my birthday’s coming up! It’s in July, remember?” Fahda’s face lit up, her hazel eyes looking into Zaina’s pitch black ones.

“Uh huh,” Zaina nodded, her head was somewhere else. It was whirring off into a night that was long ago but it felt like it was yesterday. 

January 5th, 2013.

“Zaina, a7bech, walla a7bech w abeech, khaly yiwaly!” His voice sounded angry but still sounded so comforting and fresh, he trapped her in the corner, away from their usual class since he pulled her away and had told her he needed to talk to her urgently.

“I c-can’t leave him, I don’t leave people,” Zaina stuttered but her heart was humming, ready to burst out of her ribcage. Nasser stood in front of her with a stressed expression on his face, like he wanted something so bad but he couldn’t quite have it. Zaina thanked God in her head that she was in a university in London and not back in Kuwait, she didn’t get any death stares from anyone passing by because they caught her speaking to a guy, it was refreshing and relaxing. But it also dared her to do things she usually would have never done back home.

“Leave him,” Nasser urged. “Or I’ll make you late to class.”

“Hey!” Zaina laughed, holding her hand up to her mouth, hiding her smile.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Nasser cocked an eyebrow, looking at her intently.

“Do what?” 

“Hide your beautiful smile,” Nasser’s eyes become far more serious, his dimple popping up ever so slightly.

“Speaking of class...” Zaina changed the subject, feeling her cheeks become hotter.

“Don’t change the subject, you’ll leave Faisal, you’ll leave him for me Zaina. La etchathbeen w etgouleen ench ma et7beeny akthar men 7beebch,” his eyes bore jealousy and anger when he mentioned Faisal’s name.

“Nasser-”

“He’s back in Kuwait, I’m right here in front of you. Be realistic, I won’t be surprised if he didn’t talk to another hundred girls behind your back when you left to study abroad,” his words jabbed Zaina’s heart, she still treasured her love for Faisal but he hasn’t been the same lately ever since she had travelled abroad.

You’re not one to talk, crushing on another guy while Faisal’s back in Kuwait, thinking about you all day. An evil voice had whispered into her head but Zaina pushed it away.

“Okay.”

“Okay shnu?” Nasser seemed surprised.

“I’ll leave him.”

“Hello? Earth to Zaina? Wain r7tay?” Fahda brought Zaina’s thoughts back to class.

“Fahad!” The professor’s voice startled both of the girls. Fahda’s calm expression turned into anger.

“It’s Fahda, FAHDA,” she answered the professor, he was seated in his desk, sipping his coffee, watching both of the girls.

“Whatever your names are, class ended fifteen minutes ago and my next class is coming in soon, so get out, will you?” The professor’s bored eyes dismissed them.

“Ugh, walla akraha!” Fahda kept repeating as both of the girls were walking down the hallway, towards the exit of the university.

“Fahda, calm down, he’s British, he calls me Saina instead of Zaina, t3wdt,” she sighed, too depressed from the memories that kept rushing back into her head to really care about what the professor really said.

“Bas you know how much it annoys-”

“Fahda bas khala9 3ad! E7na mu yahal, it’s university, they’re English. Just get used to it already,” Zaina snapped at her best friend accidentally, taking out the anger she had for Nasser and herself onto Fahda.

“Wow, okay. 3yal khalech m3ahom, ana bamshee,” Fahda widened her eyes at her, astounded by Zaina’s rude tone of voice.

“Fahda, la wait dgeega!” Zaina held onto her arm, stopping her.

“Tara entay teghayertay 7ail, madre etha Nasser el sebab wela la2, bas when I got my heart broken, I didn’t act this way towards you, even when you were too caught up with Nasser to even notice me. I’m sick of of this, talk to me when you’re the old Zaina, not the jerk one,” Fahda stated in a cold voice before walking off. This time, Zaina didn’t stop her, instead she repeated Fahda’s words over and over again throughout her day, not able to forget any of them.

-

Zaina sat back in her uncomfortable bad in her dorm room. She usually shared the dorm with Fahda but Fahda’s been M.I.A all day, clearly avoiding Zaina. The memories that rushed back tempted Zaina to do some stalking. She clicked on Twitter and searched his name.

“SEARCH: @FaisalAlX”

“RESULTS: 5.”

Her eyes skimmed down to the first few pictures of older men or pictures of roses until she reached one picture of a handsome young man, tanned from the summer and a huge smile on his face while in his hands, he was holding onto his furry dog. 

“Haa, et7eb Jackie akthar meni mu 9a7?” Zaina would joke to Faisal.

“Mu men 9ijich 9a7? A7eb chalb akthar men murte?” Faisal laughed, his voice deep and full of love.

“Awww,” she smiled through the phone, missing him terribly. She had locked herself inside her dorm room to call him, it was around midnight in Kuwait but he stayed up all night, waiting for her to call.

A noise startled her, it was her phone vibrating against her left ear. She quickly looked at the screen and a name popped up it might her heart flutter for a second and forget about Faisal altogether.

“@NasserAlX: haa wainch elyoum?:p ma dawemtay class, mukanch embayen!”

“Zaina? Aloo?” Faisal’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Oh hey, I’m here.”

“Wain re7tay? Sa3a w agoulch aloo,” he sounded a tad suspicious but concern filled more of his voice.

“Wela mukan, bas tana7t.”

“Sheklch ta3bana, rou7ay namay, ban6irich bacher or any time you’re free to call. Mu ela al7een,” he sounded like he really didn’t want to tell her to go but he forced the words out, a big part of him wanted her to fight back to stay on the phone.

“I guess you’re right...” Zaina yawned. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

“Khala9 okay, goodnight. I love you more,” disappointment was hinted in his voice but he covered it up too well for Zaina to notice.

“I’m so stupid,” Zaina whispered to herself, the memories disappearing and the images of her mahogany coloured dorm was spread in front of her. She stopped herself from stalking Faisal’s tweets, it would only make her chest ache even more. She typed in the second name, the second name that started all of this mess.

“SEARCH: @NasserAlX”

It was as if every time her fingers glided over the keyboard and typed in a familiar name, the memories of that person would rush back and blind her eyes for a few minutes that seemed like decades to her.

“Nasser, shfeek?” Zaina had pulled Nasser to the side, they were outside their class and he had been avoiding her lately. They’d already been together for months, Faisal was old news and Nasser was all she could think about, but he had been acting like a stranger, drifting away from her.

“Ma feene shay, laish?” He coldly replied, trying to ignore her eyes.

“Nasser, look at me!” Zaina urged.

“Tara 3ndena class, el professor ga3d yekhiz,” he walked off into class, not letting Zaina continue on, even when he saw her lips open, ready to word her next sentence. That time, she stayed as close as possible to Fahda. Fahda had been depressed lately over her heart being broken too, it was as if everything bad had been happening recently but Zaina was too engrossed into staring at the back of Nasser’s head to ask if Fahda was okay.

Fahda’s boyfriend had been real, he had been serious, he planned a marriage when she was going to graduate and a plan was set up and everything but all of that melted away when Fahda’s boyfriend’s sister had found out, scaring him off from continuing anything with her. 

“Zaina?” Fahda whispered, her eyes were puffy and red. It wasn’t enough that her parents were divorced and she already felt alone, even her only first love had left her. His reason was understandable but Fahda couldn’t dismiss the fact that it still hurt.

“Yeah?” Zaina acted like she was busy with writing down the notes from class but really, she was too busy thinking of why Nasser was acting so weird.

“La2 khala9 wela shay,” Fahda noticed Zaina’s lack of care and brushed off the words that she wanted to say. Zaina didn’t bother asking her what’s wrong or to force Fahda’s words out, she was still staring at Nasser’s wavy hair, wanting an answer.

“Nasser, dgeega! Wain raye7?” Zaina called out, rushing to follow him out of class once it ended. The 50 minutes of class felt like 50 light years but she managed to successfully sit through it.

“Oh hey,” Nasser seemed weirded out by Zaina’s approach. He looked like he was in a hurry to leave. “Uhm 3nde class-”

“La2, ma ra7 etrou7 ela lema etgouly shfeek!” Zaina commanded, her eyes pleading him to answer her.

“Uhm Zaina, I don’t think we should be together anymore.” Each word felt like a prickling needle that was being sewn inside her heart, she stared at him, in shock, not knowing what to say.

“I hope we can stay friends bas walla al7een 3nde class, lazem arou7.”

And just like that, he left, not even allowing Zaina to process his words or to ask for an explanation.

That was the last time they ever spoke to each other, until today, when he approached her out of nowhere.

“Oh, you’re here,” Fahda’s voice crushed Zaina’s hurtful memories. She was caught by surprise when Fahda walked into the dorm room, looking annoyed that Zaina still existed.

“Fahda I-”

“Save it for someone who cares,” Fahda shut her off. “Bakheth aghrathy.”

“Wein ray7aa?” Zaina bolted out of bed, watching Fahda gather up her clothes and stuffing them into a duffel bag.

“3nd Nour, her apartment’s close. I’ll move out by tomorrow,” Fahda avoided Zaina’s eyes.

“I’m a b*tch, a complete b*tch, okay?” Zaina sighed. “I’m so sorry, please Fahda don’t leave. Please.”

“I won’t say that you aren’t,” Fahda still seemed angry.

“Fahda I’ve been so selfish, so caught up with Nasser, I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. Fahda please!” Zaina held onto Fahda’s arms, her eyes filling with tears. “I need you.”

“Zaina, okay okay la tabcheen 3ad...” Fahda’s anger was melted away, she had a huge soft spot for people who cried but also, she had a huge heart. Her anger never lasted, it quickly faded away.

“I’m so stupid for losing you over that jerk and losing Faisal,” Zaina’s tears kept flowing uncontrollably, her eyeliner beginning to melt off of her skin.

“Zaina, it wasn’t your fault. We fall in love with other people, we leave them, we start new friendships, new relationships, it’s the cycle of life. We’re human, we make mistakes and that jerk made a huge one, leaving you. He was never worth it but you were only going to learn that when you had to experience it for yourself.” Fahda began to comfort her, holing Zaina close for a hug.

“Screw him, I can lose him. I just can’t bare the thought of losing a friend over a guy.” She sighed.

“You won’t lose me, just please don’t be the Zaina he turned you into. Please be the one I first met and love. Please.”

“I promise I’ll try Fahda, I promise!” Zaina pulled away from the hug to show how serious she was by looking into Fahda’s eyes, promising her to be better.

“Fahda, are you okay?” Zaina finally wanted to hear if her best friend was okay, she didn’t want to be the sole topic of their conversations, she had to ask about her for once.

“Walla I’m okay! I wasn’t bas I am now,” Fahda gave her a huge smile. “And you will too, you’ll be okay too Zaina, you just have to be patient.”

Zaina stared into her best friend’s hopeful eyes, for once, believing that she was really going to be okay. The next day, when she walked into her classes, she didn’t have that frown on her face when she saw Nasser, she had a huge smile as she chatted to Fahda, actually hopeful that she was beginning to feel like herself again. Nasser stared at her, waiting for her to notice him but Zaina kept her eyes off of his, ignoring his whole existence.

Zaina never forgot the dread and pain she felt when being in love, she didn’t forget the mistakes she made with leaving Faisal and falling for someone she couldn’t ultimately trust. She didn’t forget the mistakes she made with her friends, becoming a person that didn’t enjoy life unless it was with Nasser. No. She learned from them. She learned that not every man is a good one. Not every word is a reliable one, not everyone tells the truth and not everyone is perfect, but that won’t mean she’ll lose hope in others, for she also made mistakes too but that only morphed her into a better person. What happened, was supposed to happen. If it didn’t, then she wouldn’t realise that loving Faisal wasn’t right, or else she would have never fell for Nasser, for another man. She wouldn’t realise that friends matter more than boys if she didn’t have to go through the pain and the change and the mistakes she made with her own friends. Every small step of the way had taught her a new lesson and it had made her smile grow larger each day. Especially when she finally knew that she was too good for that jerk anyway. 

-

This story wasn’t entirely true but I chose two true stories and morphed them into one. Zaina exists, Fahda exists, Nasser and Faisal exist too. They don’t necessarily know each other and I myself, don’t even know these beautiful girls either. The entries were anonymous and the names were fake. I added more of my own ideas into the story because I don’t know every last detail of theirs and I wanted to make it more realistic than my usual murder/fairtytale types of stories.

I hope girls, even guys see this as a lesson to them too.

Pain isn’t always bad but that doesn’t mean you should always dive into it. You can learn your lesson today by reading this, rather than having to experience it.

Hope you enjoyed this, first time trying to write a true story in my point of view with my own fictional ideas added into it.

Leave comments/feedback please! Yiwanisny 7ail when I see your opinions. :D And sorry if I didn’t write it as best as I could, I’m tired and I have to be awake by 4/5 am but I REALLY wanted to post something for you guys. xx

www.ask.fm/vieblogue

Masqué, Season 2, Chapter 4 *FINALE*

Hello! Finally wrote everything, even though my final's tomorrow, I wanted to make sure this Season is finished before I travel later this week. When I'm back, I start my summer university course so I'm not quite sure when I'll start Masquerade's second season but don't worry, enshallah I'll do it as soon as I can, as I promised.

I hope you enjoy the finale! I was super evil. Keep your eyes open for hints before the ending (DO NOT SKIP TO THE ENDING, READ AND BE PATIENT, YOU WON'T REGRET IT!) I've hidden hints everywhere, just keep your eyes open!

This is dedicated to all of you, thank you so much for all the support and everything you've done for me. It's always a joy to write for such wonderful people! xo



-

“Hey, goumay! Warach medrisa! Besich noum, yalla 7beebty!” A voice screeched to Razan’s left ear, startling her. She quickly bolted out of bed, dazed and feeling light headed. The bright rays of sunlight pierced her amber shaded eyes. Her mother stood over her with a stressed expression on her face; Razan quickly concluded that even her own mother was late to work.

“Hff, okay okay,” Razan annoyingly replied, holding a palm to her head, rubbing over the painful headache.  Amal, dressed in her tucked in shirt and flowy peach skirt hurried out of Razan’s room to touch up on her make-up. Razan paused, seated in her fluffy bed, looking around her. She slowly took in the images of her Justin Bieber posters all over her walls, the ash white curtains and the light orange rug that felt soft and heavenly under her toes. She tried to recall what happened last night but she got blurry images from when she was in the kitchen before someone’s hand covered her face.

She couldn’t explain the snippets of images that clouded over her and the clock told her that she didn’t have much time to think about it. It was 6:45 am and she was supposed to be in school in fifteen minutes. She stood up from her bed, not even noticing the small sandwich next to her bedside table.

Razan shook her head to push those images away once she was in the shower, reassuring herself that it was just a simple dream, even when a suspicious taste that smelt so much like medicine lingered on her lips.

-

“Oh crap,” Amal hissed under her breath once she was in her car, parked outside the one floor building she worked in. She had taken a few days off after Jack’s death; not wanting to go back to where it all first started but she couldn’t avoid it too long. She had made up a false accusation that Jack quit and had left, since she was the manager, nobody questioned her. But before she could walk in, before the images from that bloody night could flash before her eyes, she had remembered that she forget her events portfolio back home. Amal was about to put the car in reverse, ready to drive back home but a familiar car parked behind her, the windows were tinted and she couldn’t see who was in the car. It blocked her way and she was trapped in the parking space, unable to drive back home.

Amal quickly left Saif’s car, she was using his whilst hers was still God knows where. And Saif was fast asleep, not needing his car; he offered it to his wife until hers was done being “repaired”, as Nawaf’s lies were being repeated in her head. He had said a bunch more, saying her car had minor scratches and needed a week or two to get it perfect again. Saif didn’t even ask why it needed two weeks, he was too worried about his own wife to care about the minor details of Nawaf’s lies.

Amal left Saif’s car to annoyingly tell off the dude who parked behind her.

“Hello? Law sema7t?” Amal knocked on the window, she saw nothing behind the windows, it was 100% tinted black. Amal recalled that having windows that tinted were against the law; she got even more annoyed after remembering this.

The window slid down and had unmasked the face of a stranger. His coffee coloured eyes stared into Amal’s, his slightly greying hair was pushed back with what looked like was his own fingers instead of a comb. He had a 4 o’clock shadow over his face, his slight beard fitting his grumpy looking face.

“Yeah?” He said, sounding bored. He had a heavy British accent but he looked very much Arabian, in his deshdasha. (deshdasha: a formal clothing for Arabian men, it’s similar to a long white dress but it’s crisp, polished and not flowy at all. It’s traditional and respectable.)

“You’re parked right behind my car, I can’t leave this way. Can you drive properly and find an actual parking space instead of blocking other people’s cars?” Amal obviously stated, her eyes as sharp as razor blades, giving the man a dirty look. Her voice was snide and she wasn’t afraid to hide it.

“That’s not a nice way to talk to your new partner,” The man bickered, a sarcastic smile on his lips.

“W-what?” Amal was taken aback by his answer. She questioned if it was her hallucinating because of the fire hot sun stabbing her in the back.

“Your partner, I’m Jack’s replacement?” He cocked an eyebrow, acting shocked that Amal, of all people, wouldn’t know that.

“I didn’t hire a new replacement, what the heck are you on about? W al7een enta 3arabe wela British, wode afham?” Amal ignored that this man was about five years older than her, he was a man, he was supposedly her partner, a stranger and shall I repeat, a man? So she would be forced to talk to him in a respectable manner. She ignored all of these statements of how baffled she was and continued being rude to his face. First he blocks her parking space, second he speaks in an idiotic accent that doesn’t sound like the original posh British accent and he’s freaking wearing a deshdasha, acting like he’s the king of England.

Yes, Amal was pissed.

“Ana Kuwaiti, shfeech em3a9ba?” His accent was washed away with an original slang of Kuwaiti. Amal felt more comfortable speaking to him in their country’s language than the fake English accent. He looked quite amused that he was pissing Amal off so easily.

“Al7een law seme7t, wakher 3an sayarty 3shan agder ared el bait. W thane shay, I never hired any new employee to work with me,” Amal said her last English words in a fake English accent that the man spoke in a few minutes ago, she imitated his fake posture and accent, she expected him to grow uneasy or angry but instead, he flashed his bleached white teeth and laughed. His smile made his face more handsome to look at but Amal quickly dismissed that horrid idea, reminding herself of how overly bleached his teeth looked.

“Enshallah, arid bacher when you’re calm,” he promised but Amal ignored him, walking off back to her husband’s car, waiting for the man to drive his car to another vacant space, away from the space that trapped Amal in her parking space.

“A-hole,” Amal hissed under her breath and drove off, not looking back at the man who stayed in his spot, staring at Amal in amusement.

-

“Ugh, Lexy, where’s my work book?!” Amal shouted to the empty house once she was inside, rummaging through everything to look for it. The housekeeper, petite and gentle faced, hurried out of the kitchen to help Amal.

“I really don’t know Madame, I haven’t seen it,” Lexy genuinely answered, her crinkled eyes looking into Amal’s younger ones.

“Are the kids in school?” Amal gave up after an hour of searching with Lexy, both of them sat on the couch, tired, their arms aching.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Is Saif home?” Amal whispered, afraid to wake her husband. She knew he felt a bit sick and he stayed back home but she wanted to check on him once again. She was too afraid to walk into the bedroom and to wake him up, knowing that Saif was such a light sleeper. He would wake up if he heard the water dripping in the bathroom downstairs, next to the living room. He was that much of a light sleeper.

“No, Sir left after you left.” Lexy answered, getting up from the couch to go back to her work but Amal stopped her by placing a hand over her arm.

“Wait Lexy, where did he go? Work?” Amal asked, confused.

“Yeah, I think so,” Lexy shrugged.

“Was he wearing his deshdasha?”

“No, he usually ask me to iron it before he wear it but I see him he wear the jeans.”

“Oh, uhm okay. Maybe he went to the doctor’s.”

“Maybe, Madame you want anything before I go to work?”

“No no, thank you for helping me.”

“No problem.”

Amal was trying to remember where she last placed her portofolio, she couldn’t go to work with it, it was like a singer going off to her concert without her band. She needed it desperately, everything was in there, all of the events, the dates and the names along with the phone numbers she needed.

When it finally hit her.

It was in her old car.

The blood infested, body-murdering car.

-

“Ugh Nawaf, pick up, pick up.” Amal kept on whispering to herself, she was parked right outside Nawaf’s two-floored house where he lived with Bibi. The house was painted in clear white, there were numerous windows that would give you a peak of the lavishly furnished rooms and the garden was small but it was filled with roses and lilies that Bibi had purchased. They were fake but looked very real, it was impossible to keep such flowers alive through all four seasons in the Middle East.

Amal couldn’t find Bibi’s Porsche parked anywhere but Nawaf’s Range Rover was parked right outside, so he was definitely in the house.

But he wouldn’t answer his mobile.

Amal needed that portfolio and the only way she would get it was to get her car back. She left her car to snoop about; she ringed the gold shaded doorbell that had a speaker right besides it, a few times. No one answered, not even the housekeeper who worked for Nawaf and Bibi. She peeked into the windows and saw a shadow pass by. She was about to assume that someone was really inside before she noticed that it was just the sun playing tricks with her eyes.

Amal soon gave up and left the house, thinking she would call or come by Nawaf’s later to ask about her car. It didn’t hurt to miss another day at work, it wasn’t like she was that excited to go back to that place.

Before she took the turn, to leave the neighborhood, she caught the site of Nawaf’s and Bibi’s house. It was at the back of the house, she caught another car parked behind it with tinted windows that she hadn’t noticed before.

Amal was driving too quickly to get a good look at the car and she quickly dismissed any ideas that popped into her head.

“Probably a friend of Nawaf’s or Bibi’s, or just a worker,” Amal had thought to herself before finally leaving the neighborhood to go back to the safety of her house.

-

“Yalla 3ad, bsr3a! Tara ehya betrid b3ad sa3a,” The first voice hissed.

A frail looking cat was wandering about before it heard the humanly voices, usually cats would be afraid of signs of such voices and would run off, but this one didn’t. It planted its bottom on the grass and stared right at the shapes of three men. One was tall, muscled and looked cool. The second was a familiar version of the first but he had a leaner body, a sweeter looking face and dark eyes. Whilst the third was the most different, he was a bit chubby, had bleached teeth that blinded the cat’s eyes for a second and had greying wavy hair.

“Shhh, Amal was here a few minutes ago, shdarak ma ra7 etrid?! Kanet betshoufk!” The second voice said in an angry tone.

“Shd3wa, zoujtk ra7at! W ma shafetny Saif, wakhert 3an el dareesha bs3ra,” the first voice replied.

“Kela menk, you parked the car outside, you should have parked it at the back like he did,” Saif replied in a stressed tone.

“Hey, sh9ar 3leik lema r7t 3ndeha?” The first voice asked the third man with very white teeth.

“Kanet em3a9ba Nawaf, you hired me to make sure she doesn’t get hurt but she seems like she doesn’t need it,” the third man shook his head in amusement.

“La2, abeek teshtighl wyaaha Ibrahim, khayfa 3leeha. If anyone touches her, you know what to do.” Saif’s eyes were steel hard.

“W ehya al7een ma shaket eb shay?” Ibrahim asked Nawaf and Saif, three men were in the garden and the cat was observing them intently. There was a huge bag zipped up lying besides them and the tinted car had the back doors open, ready to put the bag inside.

“La2, Nawaf made sure she wouldn’t tell anyone, 9a7 Nawaf? Bas el ghabe, he made Razan faint!” Saif looked back to his brother. Saif’s face looked worried.

“Ma tadre 3an shay,” Nawaf answered. “She doesn’t know that I took the body to you when she told me to go the police, she doesn’t know that you kept stabbing the body because of how angry you were, she doesn’t know anything. She thinks you don’t know what she did and she’ll keep on believing that.”

“W 3la fekra, if I didn’t push that fainting medicine into her mouth, she would have caught us with Jack’s body! Ma t3wert el bent, would you stop getting pissed at me about it? W enta el ghabe for making a sandwich for her, chithe ra7 et7s! Bas we laid her in bed, enshallah she won’t remember anything, she'll think it was a dream and that the sandwich was from Lexy or Amal for her breakfast,” Nawaf annoyingly continued on, his eyes staring into Saif’s, who were full of worry for his own daughter.

"7aram 3leik, kanet you3ana, y3ne ana obouha akeed ba7aty w etha betyou3 benty, I'll make her a sandwich! Ugh it was my fault we hid the body at my house first. W Amal can never know about this, never. If she knows, she’ll hate me; she’ll think I’m a murderer. Our fingerprints are all on the body, we have to get rid of it before Bibi’s back.” Saif sighed, his eyes dropping down to the grass beneath his leather Bottega Venetta shoes.

“Al7een shloun ma 7aset? Didn’t she say that she could say that she was just defending herself?” Ibrahim questioned on.

“Nawaf made her feel guilty, saying that they wouldn’t believe her. It’ll stop her from telling anybody and that way, I won’t get caught or arrested.” Saif explained. “I just couldn’t control myself, when I saw that a-hole’s body, that face of his, imagining his hands on my wife, I just had to get my share of killing him.”

“She doesn’t know that he was still alive?” Ibrahim asked, his finger tapping over his beard.

“La2, 3balha mat lema she stabbed him with her car keys. Maskeena, she was too afraid to really check, she never saw a dead body like that before, or a bloody one. Ashwa I hid the body with Saif at his house in the garage before we moved it to mine, we were waiting till we were all alone to dispose it.” Nawaf frowned.

“Al7een Ibrahim, you work with the police and you’ve known the family for such a long time, you won’t ever let anyone know of this, right?” Saif looked to Ibrahim, looking rather nervous and jittery.

“I owe you so much for what your family has done for me, akeed I’ll keep everything under control. La t7aty Saif, w murtk ma ra7 tadre sh9ar.”

“A7bha, w ra7 asawe ay shay 3shanha. Ay shay.” Saif repeated, his voice slow and low as he was looking at the bag that was shaped as a body, knowing that it looked so obvious that a dead body was held inside.

“Isn’t it creepy?” Nawaf suddenly asked, taking the men’s attention off of the body bag.

“Shnu?” Both men replied, looking to Nawaf.

“That cat keeps staring at us,” Nawaf pointed.

Three of the men stared back at the cat and it’s wide suspicious honey coloured eyes. It couldn’t understand a word they said but their eyes scared it too much, those dark deep eyes of theirs. It hurriedly scattered off to a bush, hiding. It heard the rumbling of the black tinted car and the whispers of their voices as they drove off, taking every last piece of evidence of the murder with them, destroying it.

-


Did you expect any of it? Or have a feeling that Saif, the innocent Saif, was behind the facade along with Nawaf?

Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you thought about this chapter 3shan etwansouny!

Or you can contact me here: www.ask.fm/vieblogue

Thank you so much. xx

Masqué, Season 2, Chapter 3:

It's nearly 3 am and I have a final tomorrow, so guess what I do? I write a new chapter! I'll be in London next week after finals end so I want to make sure I'm done with Masque before I travel, or at least be done with most of it. I also missed writing and didn't want to study anymore. :(

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, there's so much more to the story coming next so stay tuned! I'm going to be EXTRA evil.

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This chapter is dedicated to gorgeous Latifa, pretty Haya and beautiful Kenda, the three incredible girls I got the honour to meet in person this weekend, who are both readers and wonderful supporters. 

Hope you enjoy.

-

Previously in Chapter 2:


"What happened to the police? No court? No questioning? And where's my car?" Amal began to become suspicious, the questions were flowing off of her tongue but they only caused Nawaf's face to wince slightly. An emotion finally filled his face for a few seconds but it was wiped off with his control in a few easy moments.


"Amal, gltlch khala9 I fixed it. I have good friends there." Nawaf looked away, avoiding her eyes.


"D-did you bury the body?" Amal croaked out.


"Entay men 9ijich?!" Nawaf exclaimed out in anger.


"Men 9ijha shnu?" Another voice entered the conversation, silencing both Nawaf and Amal, causing their faces to bare all of their guilt right away.


A female voice.


Bibi's voice.

-

“I’m waiting Nawaf,” Bibi urged on, her metallic bronzed eyes staring right into her husband’s emotionless irises. His fingers slid deep into the pockets of his khakis, his lips pursed calmly together before they opened to speak.


“It’s simple. I helped your sister commit a crime and she’s too stupid enough to remain quiet and to ignore the problem,” Nawaf shrugged, looking deep into Bibi’s eyes, waiting for her reaction.


Bibi remained still as a statue, her fingers clenched into fists yet Amal’s fingers were shaking out of nervousness; her mouth formed a slight ‘o’ to resemble how shocked she was of Nawaf’s statement.


“Nawaf!” Bibi exclaimed, her face breaking out into laugher, her hand on her stomach as she kept on giggling, the anger and suspicion on her face rotted away. Nawaf grinned easily, watching Amal’s disbelief.

“Don’t be too long, okay?” Bibi pressed her lips to her husband’s cheek, the hints of a smile remained in her voice as she was playing over what Nawaf had just said, thinking his words were a complete joke rather than an honest answer.


“Okay, bas dgeega ba7achy Amal w b3dain agoulch sh9ayer,” Nawaf lied to save himself from Bibi’s questions later on about why he was so suspicious over the days with her sister.


“Mashe,” Bibi seemed pleased of his answer, she walked off without another word. Nawaf turned back around to face Amal, her face had paled to a haunting shade of white. Her face seemed grotesque and Nawaf feared that she would topple over any second now. He hurried over to her side, linking his hips against hers to give her a sturdy body to lean on in case she was to faint.


“Amal, shfeech?” Nawaf asked, his emotionless mask had been taken off and replaced with a deeply concerned one.


“I c-can’t believe that you would say such a thing to my sister!” Amal took a deep breath before hissing angrily.



“Ma shefteeha? E’97akat w meshat, ma galet shay wela 7aset eb shay, shfeech mekhtar3a?!” Nawaf spat in an annoyed tone.



“Mu men 9ijik 9a7? Is this a freaking joke to you?” Amal pushed Nawaf’s shoulder off of hers, not wanting any kind of support from such a malicious man.


“Amal-“


“A man was killed a few days ago, because of ME. And you, you-“ Amal began to stutter, her eyes full of the tears she’d tried so hard to lock up inside of her. “You don’t even try to help.”


“Are you screwing me over? Who the heck cleaned you up and got rid of the evidence?!” Nawaf held up his hands in protest.


“And who the hell asked you to get rid of the evidence? I asked you to go to the police station!” Amal’s tears began to pour, instead of the steam being released from her ears; her temper broke out in infuriated tears.


“Amal wa6ay 9outch please-“ Nawaf took a step towards her to calm her down by putting a hand over her shoulder but he didn’t expect the reaction he was about to receive.


Amal’s eyes flashed back to that night. Jack’s touch on her skin felt new again, the callouses of his fingers running over her skin; those terrifying nails scraping against her neck, those wet haunted lips touching her cheek and finally, Amal burst. Every light in her, the strength she treasured inside her, the posture she built; all was bombarded by the images of Jack’s blood all over her clothes, that stench of dead meat and those dirty fingers that still reeked of rape and lust.



All she could remember last was his piercing blue eyes, staring deep into hers, hungry for a touch before Amal saw deep shades of greys, the shades becoming darker by the second before all she could later see was black. Haunting, wretched and empty black.


-


Amal felt fingers all over her. Fingers were poking every inch of her skin constantly and it terrified her, she began moving around, trying to push off those fingers; her body was a temple, it wasn’t an object.


“Amal, stop it, 7beebty calm down!” A familiar voice whispered into her right ear, the breath tickling her ear rather than causing terrifying ants crawl down her back.


“S-stop touching, s-s-top please,” Amal yelped, the fingers still touching her. After the muttering of her words, the fingers stopped; it was as if time was frozen for a second, she couldn’t feel anything or see anything.


“Amal, 7beebty Amal,” the whispers calmed her down, they caused her eyes to flutter open, the lights blinding her eyes and causing the pupils of her eyes to grow larger. She saw Saif’s worrisome face over her; he was kneeling on the ground of the living room, his hands pulled back, afraid to touch his own wife.

“Amal…” Saif murmured, his eyes crinkling in worry. Before she spoke, she turned around to look at her surroundings. Nobody else was in the room; it was just the both of them.


“Gamat?” A new voice entered into Amal’s ears, her accusations were false once her eyes caught the tall shadow of Nawaf’s strong build. “Good morning sunshine.”


“Nawaf, bas khala9 el mara mekhter3a,” Saif shook his head in annoyance at his bigger brother. Bibi was nowhere to be seen, it was just she and the two brothers.


“S-sh9ar?” Amal croaked out.


“You fainted Sleeping Beauty,” Nawaf joked on, ignoring the jealous glare he got from Saif when his brother had heard him say “beauty” after “sleeping”.


“El’9aher mu makla 3adel elyoum and we’re so sorry we stressed you about the lunch today, t3btay men kel el sheghl.” Saif provided an explanation for Amal before she could even offer one.

“Eee 9a7,” Amal agreed. Saif lightly kissed his wife’s forehead before dashing off to the kitchen, ready to make Amal some soup or anything easy for her to eat and get nutrition from. Nawaf remained, a glass of coke in his left hand, his back coolly leaned back on the wall.


“You know, you made quite the sounds while you were passed out. I’m surprised Saif hasn’t asked any questions,” Nawaf said before taking a sip from his fizzy drink. The black in his glass resembled the haunting shades of black she had experiences whilst her body had fainted.

“Mnu kan ga3d yijeesny?” Amal stuttered.

“Zoujich, shfeech? He was just putting some wet cloth over your face to calm you down when you kept shouting about,” Nawaf answered.


“I want my answers,” Amal tried to sit up but her head began to fly about for a second, dizzying her. Nawaf quickly kneeled down besides her, ready to catch her if she fell off the couch.


“Hey hey, shway shway.”


“Don’t ignore me,” Amal reverted back to the subject.


“We can’t talk now,” Nawaf whispered, careful with his words, scared that Saif would overhear them.


“3yal meta?” Amal hissed.


“How about never?” Nawaf cocked an eyebrow.


“Nawaf, I need to-“


“You need to know? Why? What’s it going to benefit you? Why can’t you just trust me? I fixed the problem, now continue living or would you want to go to jail?” Nawaf’s tone morphed from humorous to dead serious.


“Why would I go to jail? It’s self defense Nawaf, they’ll understand.” Amal pleaded on.


“Yes, they’ll understand that a woman stabbing a man countless times is self defense, of course they won’t put the news in headlines ruining the family’s reputation, of course they won’t consider taking away the kids because of how aggressive you were, of course Amal,” Nawaf’s words silenced Amal.


“Haa, still want to go to the police or choose my way?” Nawaf noticed Amal’s silence and the way her eyes were averted away from his, trying to rethink her choices. The choices she didn’t even have.


“I still need to know what you did,” Amal finally said.


“Why? It’ll frighten you.”

“Nothing’s less frightening and haunting than not knowing,” she breathed.


“Trust me, this is far more scarier.” Nawaf’s eyes were as hard as steel as he stared into Amal’s for a moment before having to break the eye contact once Saif’s footsteps grew closer.

“Shlounich al7een?” Saif’s voice interrupted the murkiness of the atmosphere.


“Perfect,” Amal forced a smile.


-

Razan, Amal’s daughter, wandered about in the dark lit house once her parents were sound asleep in their bedroom, in an adventure to look for food. Her stomach began to roar from hunger, her footsteps were quiet and slow, afraid to wake up anyone in the house as she tiptoed to the kitchen.

Her eyes looked over her choices of food once she pulled the fridge door open. She heard a loud clank! that scared her to bits. She was about to turn around to check who was there but a hand had covered her face, a stench of medicine filled her nostrils and mouth that caused her to black out instantly.


All she last heard before she saw pitch black were two voices, fighting with each other in hushed tones.

-

Don't forget to leave feedback! :D

What do you think happened to Razan?

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Masqué, Season 2, Chapter 2

The second chapter today! I don't know but I'm kind of on a roll today haha. I got the next idea for the chapter and I just couldn't wait to start writing, I got the idea when I was just correcting the last chapter, weird I know..

I love how everyone got shocked from the first one, hope this one shocks you guys even more:

-

Previously in Chapter 1:

She did the first thing that popped into her head.

She lodged the car keys into his face, the metal scraped his skin and made it's way into his left eye. He screamed in pain, his hands leaving Amal's body to cover his bleeding face.

"Arrgghhh!" Jack screamed. "You b*tch!"

He was about to attack her, his hand had already grabbed her hair, pulling it out, causing Amal to painfully scream, but she used the same car keys to stab him in the neck. She was aiming to scrape the skin but the metal was too sharp, it had sliced into his skin and into his veins, causing them to bleed out uncontrollably. His blood supply soon ended and his body laid lifeless, his head had landed on her lap and her clothes were drenched of blood.

The only thing Amal could hear were the crickets and the loudness of her heart thumping.

"Amal, yalla shfeech 6aweltay?" Saif's voice crushed Amal's horrific memories. Amal was now by the table, brushing foundation over her scars of that night.

"Kanee."

Amal took a deep breath before turning around with a perfectly drawn smile on her face.

-

Bibi, Amal's younger sister, Turki's twin, sat in her seat, staring at her food.

"Bibi, shfeech ma klaitay?" Nawaf asked his wife, looking down at her plate and back to her more mature face. Her veil was covering her hair and her long fingers were holding onto her cardigan, her mind elsewhere.

"Mu mishtehya, metrayga 3adl elyoum." Bibi shrugged, looking back to her husband's dark eyes. They resembled Saif's but his pupils were larger, she enjoyed staring into them, wondering what was on his mind. But this time, her husband was staring into his wife's, wondering what was on her mind.

Both spouses looked up from the table to see Amal and Saif walk into the living room. Bibi watched them intently, Amal's smile was forced and Bibi had read Saif's lips as he edged cloer to his wife to whisper a few words.

"You okay?" Saif's lips formed the words. Amal had gave him a reassuring smile before letting go of his arm to sit next to her sister on the table. Amal's fingers were shaking under the table, she used her right hand to eat as her husband sat in front of her, easily chatting to his family members. 

"Shfeech?" Bibi leaned in to ask Amal but Bibi's eyes hardened once they met with Amal's.

"Ma feene shay?" Amal gave her a confused expression. "Yalla eklay, ma jistay aklch! Am I bad cook?"

"No no, you're simply fantastic." Bibi said in a sarcastic tone but Amal was too engrossed into her thoughts to pick up on her tone of voice. Bibi watched Amal intently but Amal hadn't noticed a thing about anyone, her eyes were on Nawaf's and Nawaf's were on hers. It was as if they both were speaking without the use of their lips, it was a language being transferred between them through their eyes and it made Bibi's insides burn.

Amal was freaking out, her body was shaking, she was sobbing frantically, staring at the body that laid on her lap. Jack was lifeless, he was bleeding into her skirt and he was far too heavy to push off. Amal didn't even want to touch his body, she was terrified. She stared at her bloody hands, it was as if her daughter had painted her fingers red with her collection of art supplies, it didn't seem realistic that it was actually raw blood. Amal wouldn't think of it, she was denying the fact that she just committed murder.

Her first instinct was to call someone. No, not the police. Someone who could calm her down first. 

Bibi.

Her only choice was Bibi.

She used the telephone built into her Porsche to call her sister. Amal didn't have her phone and she couldn't move with a 200 pound dead man laying on her lap. She brushed her bloody hands over her shirt before gliding them over the touch screen, dialling Bibi's number. Amal waited impatiently, listening to the sound of the ringing and to the sound of her heart. 

Thump. Ring. Thump. Ring. Thump. 

"Aloo?" A male voice answered. It wasn't Bibi, it was her husband, Nawaf. His voice was deep and gentle.

"N-nawaf?" Amal hiccuped, sobbing under her breath.

"Amal, shfeech?" Nawaf sounded alert and worrisome.

"Wain Bibi?" Amal tried to contain herself from sobbing frantically over the phone.

"Bel 7amam, ena chithe I answered it, laish? Amal jawbeeny shfeech?" Nawaf kept asking, unable to ignore how fearful Amal's voice sounded.

"N-nawaf," Amal couldn't help herself anymore, she began to sob uncontrollably, her chest heaving. The tears were mixing up with the blood and the car reeked of death, Amal needed someone, now.

"Amal, wainch? Ana ayeelch," Nawaf knew he couldn't get anything out of Amal through the phone. 

"At the L.F Gallery, please hurry, p-please. Don't tell anyone, allah yekhaleek, don't tell anyone."

"I'll be there in a few."

Nawaf hung up and at the exact same time, Bibi had left the shower, her long hair drenched wet and her body sandwiched with a towel. 

"Who was it?" Bibi asked, looking to her husband. She was drying her hair with an extra towel and Nawaf's face looked worried.

"Ekhtch, giltleha entay bel 7amam," Nawaf grabbed his car keys, trying his best to act cool. He wanted to tell Bibi but Amal's words echoed into his head: 'don't tell anyone, allah yekhaleek, don't tell anyone.'

"Oh, khan adig 3leeha 3yal," Bibi walked over to the table to grab her phone but Nawaf stood in front of her to stop her.

"La2 la2, galet it's nothing important w bitgoulch salfet'ha on Saturday, at the yam3a," Nawaf gave her a forced smile.

"Uhm okay..."

"Yalla, ana barou7 ashouf 9a7be bel gahwa, bas bag3ad sa3a w barid," Nawaf turned to leave but he saw the suspicion on Bibi's face.

"Take care," Bibi called out but Nawaf was already out the door, in a hurry to leave.

-

It felt like hours to Amal as she waited for Nawaf. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, the tears were still running down her cheeks but she couldn't look at the body, she simply couldn't. Her body told her that it still remained on top of her, her senses wouldn't agree with her denying mind, she could smell the blood, feel it running over the callouses of her fingers and the heaviness of his body on her.

It was only the tapping on the window was when she realised it was time to open her eyes. And once she did, she found Nawaf's gaping face, staring at the body on her lap through the window. Amal finally started sobbing again, calling to Nawaf to help her. He was trying to open the door but it was locked, Amal was too frozen in her seat to realise anything.

"Amal! Ft7ay el bab, it's locked!"

"Nawaf, help." Amal cried out, unable to hear him. Nawaf pointed to the door and finally, Amal realised that she was stupidly waiting for him when clearly, the doors were locked because of Jack. Amal's shaking fingers unlocked the doors and Nawaf finally pulled it open.

"Amal, sh9ar?!" Nawaf yelled, his eyes widened in shock.

"NAWAF, ALLAH YEKHALEEK JUST GET HIM OFF OF ME!" Amal screamed, her throat aching from all of the sobbing. Nawaf hurried over to her side and pushed the body back so it would lay back on the passenger's seat. He became startled from the bloody face and took his hands off of the body as soon as it remained off of Amal. Nawaf's hands become drenched in blood.

Amal fell out of the car, staying on the floor as she continued to sob. She couldn't breathe, she felt aas if a bulldozer was lifted off of her but yet, the heaviness and disgust still remained, due to the all of the blood on her.

It took Nawaf two hours to calm Amal down, she wouldn't let him touch her or try to pull her up from the ground, and so, he stayed next to her after he made sure the car was locked and Jack's body was tucked under the seat, to avoid anyone from seeing the body.

"Amal?" Nawaf whispered, still startled from the whole situation. He still didn't know what happened but Amal wouldn't utter a word.

"He t-tried to touch me," Amal began to speak but she kept stuttering, "He k-kissed me. T-then he was in the car, t-touching me, h-his f-fingers under my skirt."

"Amal, calm down," Nawaf lay a hand over her back but she pushed him away.

"D-don't touch me!" Amal shrieked.

"Amal, it's me!" Nawaf took his hands off of her. "It's not him, it's me Amal."

"I k-killed him, I-" Amal hiccuped, a sob caught in her throat. "We n-need to call t-the police."

"Okay Amal, ana badig 3leeihum bas abeech teg3deen eb sayarty okay?" Nawaf reassured her.

"O-okay, la etjeesny, ana bagoum brou7y," Amal held up her hands once he tried to help her, he quickly backed off and allowed her to stand up solely alone. He ushered her to his Wrangler, tucking her under the safety of the seat belt just to make her feel safe.

"Amal, ana bakheth el sayara, okay? I'll take it to the police station." Nawaf promised Amal.

"O-okay, please tell t-them I didn't m-mean to kill him, h-he was j-just touching me and I-I didn't k-know what t-to do N-nawaf, I'm s-sorry, s-so s-sorry," Amal sobbed between her words.

"Amal la t7ateen, I'll fix everything, shhh," Nawaf calmly whispered.

"P-please be q-quick, I d-don't w-want to be alone."

"I promise I'll be quick."

-

"Where've you been?" Amal exclaimed once Nawaf was back with Amal's car but the body was nowhere to be seen. He climbed into the driver's seat next to her, his hands in his pockets.

"At the police station, shfeech?" Nawaf said as calmly as possible.

"Wainhom?" Amal's eyes were so wide, she kept fidgeting, unable to remain as calm as Nawaf.

"Khala9 I fixed it Amal, stop asking. Now we need to get you cleaned up."

"Khan adig 3la Saif w agoula-"

"Hey, la2! Ma ra7 etdigeen 3la a7ad, you will tell no one about this, fahma?" Nawaf stared into Amal's eyes in the dark.

"L-laish Nawaf?" Amal stuttered.

"Tabeen Saif yekhtere3? Tkheyelay banatch, wouldn't it scare them to hear about this?" Nawaf's words caused Amal's face to wince.

"No no!" Amal exclaimed in horror.

"You want to be okay again, 9a7?" Nawaf asked.

"Eee."

"Abeech etsaween ely agoulch yaah, okay? Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Al7een bawadeech baitna, you'll shower there and change. Bibi's at a wedding, maku a7ad eb baitna."

"O-okay."

"And you will never ever talk about this to anyone else. Goulay walla you won't," Nawaf's eyes hardened, they seemed serious and strong.

"Walla ma ra7 a-agoul 7ag a-a7ad," Amal sobbed.

-

"Amal, are you done?" Nawaf called out to the bathroom, waiting for her to finish cleaning up. He would hear her break down every few minutes and start crying. He couldn't let Saif see her like this.

"I'm d-done." Amal croaked out once she left the bathroom wearing Bibi's summer dress, her hair was wet and her eyes were red from the tears.

"Ma agder akhaleech etrideen el bait chithe, you need to stop crying." Nawaf's voice sounded heartless and his face bore no emotion. Amal stared at him in wonder, wishing she had his perfect posture and control.

"I will," Amal swallowed down the lump that was building up in her throat.

"Promise me?" Nawaf sighed, he was seated on the sofa in his bedroom, staring at Amal's weak posture.

"I just want to go back home, take me back," Amal hiccuped.

"Promise me Amal," he repeated.

"Nawaf, allah yekhaleek barid el bait!"

Nawaf didn't mutter another word, he texted Saif making up a lie about Amal's car breaking down and how Nawaf had coincidentally spotted it on the highway when he was on his way to the cafe by the sea to meet up with a friend. Saif bought the lie and so, Nawaf drove quiet Amal to her house.

"Amal, don't tell anyone." Nawaf stated when he parked his car outside Amal's house. Her eyes drifted away from the window to his hands, she noticed specks of dirt under his fingernails but didn't think twice about them. 

Amal remained silent, she left the car and didn't say anything other than a whispered "thank you".

"Yumaa! Akheeran radaitay el bait, yuma barou7 bait Najd bacher, okay? Batghada 3ndehum, okay?" Amal's second daughter ran up to her once she walked into the house. Dana's face seemed hopeful and excited but Amal couldn't answer her daughter, she was still in shock.

"Ee, okay okay." Amal muttered, hurrying upstairs to the bedroom. She heard Dana exclaim in happiness and Razan complain about how Amal had refused to allow her to go to her friend's house today but how it was unfair that Dana could get anything she wanted. Amal drowned out everything, she couldn't concentrate.

Thankfully, Saif was too busy on the phone with one of his business clients to notice how emotionless and abnormal his wife looked. Amal tucked herself into bed and stared at the wall in front of her for what seemed like hours, listening to the muffling sounds of her children downstairs and the deepness of Saif's voice as he spoke into his phone, in his office. The room was dark and her fingers were hurting her from the shards of glass that sliced into her skin yet she kept on staring off into the darkness, her mind muted, the thoughts were whirring around but she wouldn't allow herself to listen.

"7beebty? Nayma?" Saif's voice brushed over Amal's neck, his fingers on her arm. He scared her, the tiny hairs on her back stood up in fright and she bolted up, ready to push him off of her.

"Offh, shfeech?" Saif was shocked from how alert his wife became, she was edging away from him on the corner of the bed, trying to stay as far as possible.

"W-wela shay," Amal stuttered.

"Amal..." Saif's forehead furrowed in confusion, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek but she smacked his hand away.

"D-don't!"

"Amal ana shsa-"

"P-please, rou7 nam bel guest room, please." Amal pleaded, Saif was astounded from her request but he became infuriated from her strange behaviour.

"Fine." Saif left the bedroom with a loud bang by shutting the door too forcefully. 

-

"Amal, hello? Amal, Nawaf, pass me the salt!" Turki's voice bombarded both Amal's and Nawaf's thoughts.

"7ather, 7ather!" Nawaf easily laughed it off and passed his cousin the salt. But Amal couldn't laugh it off, her face was blank. Saif stared at her, still confused from what happened between them a few nights ago but he didn't question her about it when the next day, she acted so normal and chipper about everything. He dismissed it, thinking it was hormonal mood swings.

Amal took this chance to escape, she grabbed her plate to take it to the kitchen but she hadn't noticed that Nawaf had followed her.

"You're making it too obvious," Nawaf's deep voice scared Amal, she was by the sink, scrubbing the plate clean but ultimately regretting it when her foundation began to wear off her fingers. Her scars becoming more visible.

"I'm sorry for not being as heartless as you, I just killed a man a few days ago, how do you want me to act?!" Amal exclaimed in anger, Nawaf stood cooly in front of her, seeming effortlessly normal.

"Wa6ay 9outch!" Nawaf hissed, looking behind him in defence to check if anyone came in or had heard them. Amal looked down to his hands for a second but finally something clicked, this time his fingernails were clean, she recalled that they were filled with dirt that night.

"What happened to the police? No court? No questioning? And where's my car?" Amal began to become suspicious, the questions were flowing off of her tongue but they only caused Nawaf's face to wince slightly. An emotion finally filled his face for a few seconds but it was wiped off with his control in a few easy moments.

"Amal, gltlch khala9 I fixed it. I have good friends there." Nawaf looked away, avoiding her eyes.

"D-did you bury the body?" Amal croaked out.

"Entay men 9ijich?!" Nawaf exclaimed out in anger.

"Men 9ijha shnu?" Another voice entered the conversation, silencing both Nawaf and Amal, causing their faces to bare all of their guilt right away.

A female voice.

Bibi's voice.

-

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