Walls Chapter 2

I'm just excited for a new story and so many ideas springing in and out of my head, so why not write a second chapter on the same day?

Hope you guys enjoy the twists and turns in the story.

Tell me what you think by commenting down below!

-

Previously in Chapter 1:

The times I used Foursquare to check in at Starbucks were the times I bumped into him.

Could it be that it never was a coincidence with bumping into him?

Before I could dwell more onto the subject, I was grabbed from behind then pushed suddenly to the ground hitting the side of my head hard.

Everything after that was completely black.

-

“You have a severe case of amnesia.”

“You only remember the events that happened 9 months ago.”

“You must rest for a few weeks in the hospital.”

“You’ll be dispatched next week.”

“Do not use any forms of communication with anyone yet, your case is very sensitive.”

“You cannot remember anything.”

“Your name is Yasmine Al-X, remember that?”

“You are 19 years old.”

“You were in a car accident, the man who crashed into your car is missing.”

“It’s been a week. The man is still missing.”

The words were played over and over back in my head, the words I listened to for the past month in the hospital bed and even in the comfort of my own bed once I was back home.

But I couldn’t understand the pain I felt from reading the text message on my phone that was sent five days ago. I had the feelings. I felt the pain. I had hints of what I felt for this person but I had no memory of the events that followed.

No memory of the man. I had a memory of someone pushing me from behind. Who was he? Was there an actual man behind me at that time? Didn’t they say those memories were from nine months ago?

What the heck was going on? I only had snippets of my memories; everything else was in a mess.

I read the message once again; there was no name though. Just a number. I was blocked though, I couldn’t reply or call back so how else would I know whom it was? True caller didn’t help, there was a fake input as a name for the number, I know this because it was “LOLOLOL”.

I read the message again:

“Ma et3rft 3la w7da aw9akh mench, mabe akelmch, ya wailch etha dageitay 3lay aw kalemteeny mara thanya, ma a3rfch wela et3rfeeny, fahma?!”

The pangs of pain hit me. It felt too real but I had no idea what it was.

“Yasmine, shlounch 7beebty?” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She walked into the white painted walls of my room with a tray with tea and my medication.

“El7mdellah,” I gave her a warm smile. “Mashkoura yumma.”

“Kaa sherbeelch chai w b3dain ekhthay 7boubch okay?”

“Enshallah.”

It was the routine; mom would come in with tea and pills every morning and I would be stuck in my room. I wasn’t allowed to leave, I wasn’t allowed to ask questions, they believed I was still very sensitive and needed time to process the fact that I had amnesia before I would try to fit the pieces to the puzzle back together.

But I grew sick and tired of it. I needed answers, I was a mess, I had snippets and I wanted the whole solved puzzle.

All I could do was sneak out. Mom would leave to visit Gran’s at 5pm and come back by 9pm, I had no brothers or sisters, and my father was always in the office so it was perfect.

I changed into fitted jeans and a shirt, combed my hair back into a ponytail and dabbed foundation over my scars from the car crash. Big Tiffany sunglasses helped hide my sickly looking face and just like that, I took the Range Rover and drove out of the house, driving around aimlessly.

I lost 9 months of memories but I didn’t lose my way around Kuwait.

I parked outside of Starbucks Nuzha. It was a Thursday, it was crowded and I felt very out of place but it was the closest place for coffee. My tongue craved it, ached for the taste of coffee and I knew that I shouldn’t have any but I needed it.

“One vanilla iced shaken please? With ice.” I ordered once it was my turn, ignoring the stares of the typical Kuwaitis that surrounded me.

“Okay ma’am, don’t you want a croissant with that?” The Filipino flashed me a crooked smile, I warmly smiled back but it gave me a headache to simply use my facial muscles. I was covered in bruises and the outfit I was wearing was failing to cover it. I knew the stares were because of the bruises.

“No thanks,” I paid and waited by the counter, hugging my arms to my chest, suddenly feeling naked under the stares. I still felt very lost, invisible but the stares proved me otherwise.

“Can’t get away from coffee for too long?” That familiar voice again, the memory of the voice hadn’t left me either. I knew it was him.

“Jassim,” I breathed, meeting his coffee coloured eyes.

“I heard about the crash, are you okay?” He ignored the stares of the people around us and spoke to me freely, publicly. I found it astonishing, still.

“Yeah,” I looked at him, confused. There was a 9 month gap between us, I could only remember the times we had in high school and the times we reunited, I had no idea what had happened between us in those 9 months. I assumed the message was from him, I assumed the feelings were for him, wasn’t it?

“Yalla I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, ma etshoufeen shar enshallah,” he gave me a polite smile whilst holding his coffee and walked away, towards a table where his friends were sitting. He didn’t bother with stirring up a conversation with me or anything, which I found very weird.

“Oh okay,” I muttered to myself, feeling alone all over again.

“YASMEEN, ONE VANILLA ICED SHAKEN,” they called out my name and I hurried to grab my drink to escape the claustrophobic environment of the café.

“Halla belzain,” I heard a mutter behind me. I ignored and walked to over to the car but he kept following me behind me, I heard the footsteps clearly.

“Yalla 3a6eena wayh shway, shd3wa,” he smirked.

I unlocked the car and was about to climb in but I felt a hand grab my arm, stopping me.

“Wakher bas!” I snapped at him, I turned ready to yell at the jerk but someone had gotten right to it, right before me.

“Hey, shfeek 3la ekhty?!” The male voice snapped at him. It wasn’t Jassim’s voice but it was a familiar one but one I couldn’t remember, how was it familiar yet I had no memories of it? He had jet black hair, tanned skin, his eyes a piercing colour of hazel and his fit body was ready to attack the much shorter guy who was trying to flirt.

“La la khala9, asfeen yuba,” the short guy held up his hands in surrender and walked off.

“Feech shay Yasmine?” Jet-black hair dude asked me.

“Um la2,” I muttered.

“Akeed?”

“3ade as2lk su2al?” I took the risk.

“Yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck, peeking at me.

“Do I know you?”

“Ma et3rfeeny?” He seemed offended. “Shd3wa?”

“Don’t you know?” My forehead furrowed in confusion. Didn’t they all know about the amnesia?

“The crash ee bas shd3wa mara w7da t7greeny chene mu mawjoud? I thought our friendship meant a lot more to you than that Yasmine, honestly I got really mad, especially after what happened but I couldn’t let that jerk hurt you either way.”

“Wait wait wait!”

He seemed startled and the pain in my head was growing, simply leaving the house just made everything a whole lot messier. Now I understood why I wasn’t allowed to ask questions, why everything was erased from my phone but they totally forgot about erasing my text messages. That text message was all I had of what may have happened during the 9 months that I lost.

“I lost my memory,” I told him.

“Shnu?” His eyes widened.

“I lost my memory,” I repeated.

“Sema3tch bas mu men 9ijich 9a7?”

“Laish achatheb? Al7een tegder etgouly shloun a3rfk?” My fingers were shaking as I held onto my cold coffee; suddenly I lost my appetite for it.

“Abdullah Al-X… your best friend?”

“I have a guy best friend?”

“Yeah, me.”

“But we didn’t meet ages ago because I can’t remember you, I lost 9 months of memories, you must have been in there somewhere…”

“Don’t you have our chats?”

“Kelshay enmesa7…”

“Yasmine entay men 9ijich?” He seemed like he couldn’t believe it or was it that he didn’t want to believe it?

“Walla, I’m serious… I don’t know what happened, what’s going on, I know nothing,” Suddenly a lump in my throat started to form; I felt the tears but I tried pushing them away. I hadn’t cried, not even once through all of this but suddenly seeing someone who was a complete stranger yet also a best friend that I couldn’t remember made me feel a rush of sadness.

“Yasmine, don’t remember.”

“What?” I croaked out, his eyes were so serious.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Abdullah, what-why?”

“Don’t believe anyone, they’re going to lie about everything.”

“What the hell happened?!” I suddenly snapped at him. “Why won’t anyone just tell me?!”

“Yasmine, I have to go.” Abdullah suddenly took a step back.

“No, you’re my best friend, you said you were, you’re going to tell me, you’re going to fill in the holes.”

“Ma ra7 agder agoulch shay w mabe agoulch shay bas I’m here, I’m still your best friend. We can start over.”

“I don’t want to start over, I want the memories back!” I yelled. No one was anywhere near us or could see us, I didn’t care what I was saying or what I appeared in front of anyone.

“Once you get them back, you’ll regret it.”

“Abdullah, wait, bas 3laqal gouly mnu hatha, mnu daz hal message?” I grabbed my phone and showed him the text message, his eyes widened once again but he wouldn’t give me another reaction.

“Walla madre,” I didn’t need to get my memories back to know him to know that he was lying through his teeth.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m sorry Yasmine, mafrouth etrideen el bait w etray7een, mu tyeen starbucks Nuzha, especially on a Thursday, you’ll see too many people you know.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Yasmine ana khayef 3laich, okay? Khalech bel bait w bas sem3ay kalamhom w la etgouleen 7ag a7ad ench neseitay kelshay, just don’t,” Abdullah’s hazel eyes begged me to listen but I was stubborn, I didn’t want to listen when he was obviously not willing to help me fill in the holes.

“You are not a best friend, a best friend would help and clearly you’re doing absolutely nothing to help. I’ll get my answers elsewhere.”

“Wait, don’t, just stop.” Abdullah grabbed my hand and stopped me from climbing into my car. “I’ll give you something.”

“What?” I turned around to face him once again.

“Jassim Al-X, ohwa ely daz el message.”

“Jassim? Shloun? He asked if I was doing okay, he didn’t seem mad…”

“Adre, he knows you lost your memory, he’s trying to fix things between you two, you two fell in love and he was a jerk to you, he played you, cheated on you.”

“Wait wait…”

“Yasmine sem3eeny, wakhray 3ana w ga3da agoulch la etgouleen 7ag a7ad, they’re going to lie to you, tell you fake stories about everything.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“He hurt you so much, I didn’t want to remind you of the pain. You were so depressed for the past few months, your grades got worse and that night of the crash, he left you and was the cause of the mess, he caused you to crash, you weren’t driving properly because you were crying.”

An ache in my chest began to form, his words felt too real, I could feel the pain of everything but the memories were still very blank but his words were too genuine, they weren’t lies, they were the pieces of the puzzle that I needed.

“I need more, what else?”

“I can’t Yasmine, you’re too sensitive right now, I’ll help you okay? Shway shway, mu mara wa7da…”

“Abdullah please.”

“Yasmine, sem3ay el kalam, 3a6eene raqmch el ydeed 3shan asayva 3nde,” Abdullah dug a hand into the pockets of his jeans to grab his iPhone.

“Huh, raqmy el ydeed?” I was confused; I didn’t know I had a new number.

“Eee your old number doesn’t work anymore, I tried calling before bas it was disconnected. Degay 3lay, 98******.”

I did and he saved my “new” number.

“Now go home, okay? Do not talk to anyone else, listen to the doctor and your parents, you’re so stubborn.”

“Abdullah?”

“Halla?” He looked at me.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, feeling suddenly relaxed to have few answers.

“Hey, what are friends for, right?” Abdullah flashed me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. “I’ll fill you in on everything, even on us.”

His touch felt familiar and warm, not a touch from a stranger, not at all.

“Now take care and whatsapp me whenever you need me, salmey 3la khalte b3ad, menzaman 3anha!” Abdullah’s eyes seemed kind.

“Omy? La7tha omy et3rfk?” I was confused. I knew my parents were very open minded, they both studied abroad and had totally different perspectives from the typical Kuwaitis but I hadn’t known that he knew my mom. But I wasn’t surprised, mom knew my entire guy friends from university and high school, she only got protective when it went beyond friends.

“Ee shfeech, ugh neseit, amnesia, right. Remind me to explain how we met the next time we talk, okay?” He half smiled.

“Okay okay,” I nodded, still in shock from his words.

I hadn’t ever fell in love before but the words about Jassim, about falling for the typical guy and letting him use me, hurt me and break me? It didn’t sound like me at all, I remembered the times of pushing him away, I couldn’t understand how he had gotten in and had broken down my walls.

But Abdullah would explain everything. He had to, I was so sure my girl friends had less information and I was too scared to ask, girls lied just as easily as men did but Abdullah seemed sincere.

Especially after he warned me to keep the amnesia fact to myself, I couldn’t ask anyone else after that, I had to get information another way, I have to ask without doing it in an obvious manner.

“Call me if you need me, I’ll see you.” Abdullah smiled and walked away, I watched his tall figure walk back into the café and blend into the crowd of coffee hungry people.

As I was watching Abdullah, I felt someone stare from afar. The stare was burning holes into my skin and it took me a minute to recognize who was staring.

Jassim.

-

“Yasmine, mama say you no go out!”

Damnit, our housekeeper Hannah caught me as I was trying to sneak back into the house through the front door.

“Hannah sorry, I was just sitting outside I didn’t go anywhere,” I lied. “Don’t tell mama please?”

“La walla, I see you not in your bed from one hour ago and the car was gone!” She said in her heavily Indian accent.

“Hannah,” I sighed, rubbing the palm of my hand over my forehead, the headache was getting worse.

“I no tell mama but next time don’t repeat same mistake!”

“Enshallah,” I grimaced and hurried back to my bedroom upstairs.

I heard Hannah’s voice downstairs and the ring of a telephone, she had answered it in a hurry and her voice was too loud, I heard every word as I changed into shorts and a hoodie, I was strangely cold, even when it was clearly hot outside.

“No, sorry, Yasmine in New York, not in Kuwait.”

What?

“No I don’t have her New York number, call her mama, okay thank you yes I will tell her, bye.”

“Hannah!” I yelled from my room and my voice echoed through the empty house.

“YES?” She yelled back.

“WHO CALLED?” I yelled back.

“NO ONE, WRONG NUMBER YASMINE, GO BED OR I TELL MAMA.” She yelled back and I heard the click clacks of her shoes, clearly not going to answer me if I yelled once more.

What the heck was that about? Why is she telling people that I’m in NYC when I’m obviously stuck here, too fragile to go back to university?