Walls Chapter 3

Hey, sorry 6awelt. I started the story at the wrong time but I so don't regret doing that. I have finals starting Saturday morning and so this has been the busiest past few weeks.

But that won't mean I won't find time to post.

Hope you guys enjoy this, enshallah akhale9 men emt7nat at Janruary 5 w my holiday will start before the next uni course.

-

Previously in Chapter 2:

“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?

-

I scurried around the room, trying to think of an explanation to this whole charade but nothing came to mind. I had to confront Hannah. I hurried downstairs and found her in the kitchen, her back facing me.

“Hannah, what was that all about?” I asked, staring at the squared patterns over her perfectly ironed uniform. She ignored me and continued washing the dishes.

“Hannah!” I snapped at her. She finally turned around to face me, the wrinkles in her skin began to form as she looked at me with an annoyed expression on her face.

“What?”

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“I will ask mama if you won’t tell me.”

“If you ask her I will tell her you left the house today,” Hannah snapped back at me.

“What the hell? I’m not a kid for you to threaten me, tara 3ade agouleha,” I threatened her back but I hoped she wouldn’t catch me in my own bluff.

“Okay tell her then we will see,” she shot her eyebrows up, obviously catching me bluffing.

“Ugh!” I rolled my eyes at her and hurried back up to my room, dismissing the idea.

The next best idea I had was to call Abdullah. He was the only one who knew about my position and maybe he could help me out.

“Ahlain,” his voice seemed deeper over the phone and very familiar, as if my ears were used to the rhythms of his voice.

“Abdullah, I need your help,” I ignored the voices of people that I heard from his end of the line; it was obvious he was still at Starbucks.

“Shfeech, sh9ayer?” He suddenly sounded worried.

“They’re saying I’m still in New York, no one knows I’m back in Kuwait, that must be why I’m not allowed to leave the house,” I sighed.

“Offh laish kel hatha 3ad?”

“Madre! Ely teshtighl 3ndena, Hannah, mu rathya etgouly shl salfa. As2al omy? M3ana etha s2lt’ha, Hannah betgouleha ena 6l3t men el bait, fthee7a hathe,” I groaned, clenching my hands into fists.

“La la ts2leen omch!” Abdullah suddenly snapped at me.

“Ha.. laish?” I was staring at the light green blanket over my plain white bed in confusion.

“Ma tabeen meshakl m3a omch,” he muttered. “Khala9 ana asa3dch, gltlch khalech m3ay, don’t trust anyone else.”

“Laish…” I mumbled.

“Khayef 3laich.”

“Abdullah a7s fee shay…”I let my words fade out of my mouth, not continuing my sentence. I felt like he was hiding something from me, I knew the friendship was true, I felt in my bones, my body, every part of me felt that he was a familiar person, someone I was comfortable with but I simply didn’t have the memories in my mind to know why.

“Shnu?” I heard the voices around him become quieter. I heard him move around, as if he walking, leaving the café. “Ma seme3t shay, goulay mara thanya?”

“Shnu, 6l3t men Starbucks?”

“Eee, za7ma wayed w qathga, ma gedert asma3 shay. Kamlay?”

“A7s you’re hiding something away from me.”

“Laish tafkeerch chithe?” He suddenly got angry.

“Abdullah mu qa9de-“

“Al7een ana ga3d asa3dch w faj2a you stopped trusting me?” Abdullah’s voice grew tense.

“Abdullah give me a break, how can I trust you fully, I’ve just told you what happened today!”

“Then why are you calling me if you don’t trust me?”

“I trusted you with enough for you to trust that my question wasn’t to offend you,” I sighed. “Had shway.”

“Mu khash 3anch shay, enzain?” He snapped at me. “Chem mara lazem agoulch hal shay?”

“Chem mara? Huh? Meta gltly hal shay asasan? Abdullah shfeek ga3d tensa, I have amnesia!” I grew even more confused by the minute, what was he talking about, what did I do to make him so angry?

“Bas khala9 wela shay, asif,” he forced himself to calm down, he was silent for a few minutes, as if he was trying to relive a few memories I couldn’t remember.

“Abdullah, sh9ayer?”

“Wela shay khala9, enzain al7een taben shay? Lazem amshy.”

“Abdullah wait-“

“Yousef w Basel na6rene, lazem amshe.”

I sighed once again.

“Okay khala9, mshkour, bye.”

Click, he hung up without a mutter of a word.

And I was back to fighting my own battles alone.

-

A whole week had passed by; Abdullah didn’t message me or call, not even once. My mother stayed home, she stopped visiting my Gran’s and after that, I knew for sure that Hannah had told her about me sneaking out. I was trapped in the house and I had no one’s number, not any of the girls or any other guy friends I possibly had met in the past nine months and had no idea about.

The pains I got were recurring, they weren’t getting better and none of my memories came back. I didn’t have any dreams; none at all and no flashbacks, or any of those things I’ve read about and watched in movies. I was definitely a hopeless case.

“Yasmine, aklch berad.” My mom’s voice crushed my thoughts, bringing me back to the reality of the peach painted walls of our dining room.

I stared at the lasagna in front of me, lately all I’ve been craving is coffee, and I’ve lost the love and need for food.

“Wayed tha3eftay 3an gabl, mu zain 7beebty lazem takleen 3yal shloun bet9eren qaweya?” Mom looked at me with worried eyes. Dad was at the office, as usual and I suddenly grew guilty for making me mom worry.

“Enshallah,” I nodded, whenever she spoke to me, I would feel like a five year old again, not the nineteen-year-old Yasmine. I forced a spoon of cold lasagna into my mouth and winced slightly as a sharp pain filled my head. The pain was getting worse but I didn’t mention it to my mom. I kept quiet.

“Elyoum barou7 eljam3ya w b3dain bait yadetch bag3ad 3ndeha shway, Hannah betcheyk 3laich enzain? La tensain takhthen 7boubch elsa3a 10 belail ba3d el3asha,” Mom pushed her plate away, clearly finished with her food. She had her hair up in a loose bun, her grey hairs were peeking out of the bun and her wrinkled eyes were already rimmed in black eyeliner, it was her signature make-up, she always wore black eyeliner but nothing else touched her face. She had been wearing the same exact eyeliner for the past fifteen years, if not more.

“Okay,” I nodded, plotting a plan in my head to escape the house already. She left the dining room to change into a light cardigan matched with a long summer dress that was long enough to cover her knees.

I stayed in my seat, playing with my lasagna until I watched her pass by, looking for her Dior purse before leaving the house.

Once I heard the sound of BMW fade off into the air, I hurried upstairs and did the following:

1)   Stuff pillows under my bed to create a body form.

2)   Change into my true religion jeans and a tucked in plain shirt.

3)   Comb my hair and hide my scars with foundation.

Next was simple. I pushed my head out of my room and yelled.

“HANNAH!”

“YES?” She yelled back from downstairs.

I checked the time.

1:43 pm.

“I WILL TAKE A NAP, I’M SO TIRED, DON’T WAKE ME UP UNTIL 9PM FOR DINNER!” I yelled.

“OKAY FINE!”

I shut the door and locked it. Next, I stared at my window.

“Okay Yasmine, you can do this,” I breathed out, talking to myself. We had plants attached to the walls of our house to decorate it, I also remember using it for climbing when I was a kid.

Now I’m a woman, I was too heavy, I could destroy the plants and end up falling but I was going to risk it.

I strapped my Chanel purse around my body, pushed my long auburn hair out of my face and began to climb out of the window. I stuck my fingers against the wall, attaching my foot on the plants that I used as a ladder, I slowly began to climb down, the plants were sharp and it began to slice into my skin but I ignored it and kept on climbing down as fast as I could, before I could de-attach them from the wall because of my weight.

I finally reached down to the garden without falling; I licked the bloody wounds off my fingers, tasting the sweet blood on my tongue.

The Range was parked at the back, away from the front windows of our house, which was perfect. I climbed in and drove silently out of the parking area of our house, practically racing down the road as fast as I could once I left.

“Akheeran!” I breathed out in relief as I slid the windows of the Range down, feeling the cold wind slap my rosy cheeks.

Al7een wain arou7? I asked myself, driving aimlessly around.

Starbucks? La2.

Jam3ya? Wai3 shasawe ehnak?

Avenues? La2, your card notifies your parents whenever you buy something. They’ll know you stuck out w bas 3ndch 20KD, ma yikafy.

I had no choice but to cruise around aimlessly just to calm my mind.

After thirty minutes, the familiar ringtone of my iPhone began to gnaw at my ears. I looked down and read the following:

Abdullah Al-X is calling.

Accept? Decline?

I let it ring for another few seconds before answering.

“Entay shmsewya et7ouseen eb Yarmouk?” His voice comforted me.

“La7tha.. shdarak ana eb Yarmouk?”

“Lefay bas,” he smirked.

I turned around in my seat once I was at a traffic light stop and saw Abdullah in his Audi R8, his head was peeking out of the window and he ignored the cars behind us that were filled with Kuwaitis, staring.

“Mumkn net3araf?” He yelled out, giving me a grin.

“La2,” I laughed.

“Bas entay gumar,” he gave me a wink, knowing that the cars behind us were watching.

“Adre,” I replied.

“Fdait el theqa ana, yalla 3ad shnu raqmch?”

“6ale3 telephonk awal,” I answered. He dug his hand into his beige shorts, pulling out his iPhone.

“Eee, okay?” his eyes met mine from afar, waiting for me to continue the charade.

“1 888 333.”

“Yal 3ayara, hatha raqam Hardees mu raqmch!” Abdullah laughed.

“Ee e6lbly wa7d chicken fillet.”

“3yal shnu 3nwankom, ayeeblch chicken fillet w akh6bch mara w7da.”

“La2 mashkour, bas abe el chicken fillet.”

“Mu tars 3ainch ana?”

“Wayed jaiker,” I rolled my eyes at him.

The lights in front of me turned yellow.

“Yalla 3ad gabel ma namshe!” Abdullah yelled and I saw that he was trying not to laugh; the people behind us had their windows down, listening to every word.

“No thanks,” I laughed and once the lights turned green, I drove straight as fast as I could. I could see Abdullah tailing me, following me as fast as he could, racing right next to me.

“Hey hey, slow down Yasmine!” He yelled out from his car, this time not joking anymore. I found the speed accelerating and I stubbornly kept on speeding, ignoring Abdullah.

“YASMINE!” He yelled out, sounding angry, he was speeding right next to me. I turned to look at him and lost the sight of what was in front of me.

It only took exactly one second.

One exact second to replay the events of my whole crash, the second time.

“YASMINE!”

Was the last thing I heard before everything went all black, yet again.

But this time, once the blackness wrapped around me, light soon blinded my eyes and the memories of the crash that caused me to get amnesia played back in my head.

The memory hit me right at once.

And finally, I remembered..

-

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