Wrong Suffered At Hands (Chapter Two)

 

 

2.

Afiyah’s light hazel orbs were secured on the window that casts squares of white upon the wall of the classroom; her intellects were engaged in exceptional thoughts. As recess rolled around, the classroom was less congested with students than the cafeteria and playground.

The shrieks, roars and the hollers of students were faint over her breathing; she could hear her pulse pounding into her ear.

“May I have a seat beside you?”

The impulse to respond fell flat the instant she looked up on her way to the custodian of the melodious voice. Her eyes glistened with glee as they rested upon the most endearing face she'd ever seen.

Hassan, the boy she fancied all over the school; the brains of her school.

His eyes were a flicker of delight over an amiable smile; his sharp jaw line and shoulder blade spoke of strength, his deep-set, dark-brown eyes bore straight into her soul.

"May I?" With the most delightful repetition imaginable, he stated his request again.

"Please take a seat." She shifted on the double seat bench to render room for him, “I wish for you to feel comfortable.”

"I promise to. Well, as you know, I've been abroad, and I was looking for assistance with the chapters, which I feel, you can deliver." He licked his full lips that couldn’t prevent Afiyah from sneaking glances down at them.

“Me? I assumed you were the smart one here. She teased as she attempted to take a gander into his eyes; those eyes granted laze to her core, her entire being was bashful.

“I know though.” As he toyed with the coarse texture of the wooden table with his finger, he stifled a chuckle. "I'd welcome your assistance, and I'm extending it; please accept it."

“And what if I don’t?” She was trapped in those irises and couldn't get her bearings.

"You will. I'm certain."

And as if those words were an authoritative command, she complied.

 

 

 

Afiyah never overlook the frisky looks Bushra and Eshaal gave her anytime they perceived them side by side; in class, on the playground or in the hallway, they were always wedged up against one another, as if glued.

Time drifted away as if a raging river and their bond grew deeper, they were acknowledged as friends; they disclosed the type of friendship that knew no boundary lines whenever it came to provide solace to the other.

 Hassan, slowly but surely, drew Afiyah to himself; his kinesics, his fashion of talk, or his manner of ensuring the safety of her caused trouble for her to maintain a decent distance from him. She understood it wasn't just a crush; it was something altogether else, More than she ever could have anticipated.

She was unable to deny how admiringly Hassan was observing her. There were numerous times when she caught him staring at her, waving it off with you’re staring and compelling him to shift his gaze with a sly smile that blew dazzling fireworks into her heart; she was in love, and she was well aware there was that same desire Hassan did feel about her as well.

 

It was at recess—the one and only short window of time throughout the day when they were free to exchange words about one other—that the sweethearts sat on a bench in the far corner of the playground. Afiyah seemed a little out of character when Hassan observed at her; she was sweating more than normal, her hands would get icy cold, and she started to whine about her erratic heartbeat that bothered her most of the time. She grew concerned about nothing; s he ought to have been alright based on Hassan's preview.

 “Afiyah...”

She murmured a faint yes as a response; her field of vision was secured on the notebook resting upon her lap where she traced the pen against the roughness of the paper.

"Afiyah, look at me."

 Her eyes wandered to his charming face as her heart missed a few beats and began pounding rapidly. That tiny mole that rested upon the side of his cheek didn’t go unobserved by her, never, it piqued her interest.

"Are you unwell or some such? You don't appear to be good." His alluring face was concealed with antsy utterance where his orbs shifted upon her face.

For the nth time that day, she murmured, "I'm good, even better."

"You're not. What do you take me for, a fool? You cannot see what I can see. You’re acting weird lately, is it about me?”"

“No.” It came out as a prompt, more like prudence to her. She blinked frantically, ashamed by her intonation that rose for the first time in those three months altogether.

She took note of how his countenance altered. Compared to earlier, he appeared quite tense.

"Honestly, I'm perfect. Look at me, am I not?"  She attempted to put on that phony smile and flutter her lashes at him in an effort to miss him once more.

"Stop deceiving yourself. Take a look at me." He grasped her arm with the utmost respect, not realizing what it would do to her poor heart. He wheeled her to face him, “Tell me what’s going on, are you not having sufficient sleep or food?”

"Promise me you won't tell anyone."

“What?”

"Promise me." She stared right into his eyes, trying to drive down his soul so as he did himself. They stared at each other for a brief moment prior to when Afiyah eventually spoke.

 

 

 

Afiyah wasn’t really aware of the rude awakening that awaited her back at home. With the justification that he needed to handle some personal tangles at his friend's house, Sameer dropped her off at the door. She stumbled through the patio, coming to a halt as she recognized the voices emanating from behind the closed door to the dining room.

Excitement was a modest affection to express her sentiments as she unlatched the door, her frame still clothed in her uniform.

She was met by her nearest and dreariest; paying greetings to each of them as she passed them, one at a time. When he welcomed Afiyah among them, her father's pleasant demeanor conveyed a sense of graciousness.

She loathed getting back to an overflowing household especially in times when she'd come back drained and sleep deprived from school, she wore the most genial smile as she made an excuse about having to groom herself.

She paced across the room, to egress the doorway as soon as possible where she already felt smothered in that stuffed room. Then, in a trice, she heard her father call out for her. She swirled on her heels, now leveling underneath the threshold. Her father’s disclosure weren’t alike the last time she glimpsed upon him; he appeared infuriated at the present moment.

“Do not cut in when I’m talking to you.” He asserted, “Who granted you the permission to run around streets with no scarf? You aren’t a minor anymore; I detest young women with exposed head. Cover yourself the next time you leave this home; else, there will be no more school."

She shuddered under her father’s mellifluous and throaty utterance. Her body shook as if a leaf hanging from its trunk in a hurricane; the balmy feeling took place in the corner of her eyes, her throat ached with the dull pain as she dared not to meet his eyes or better say anyone’s eyes.

She was embarrassed, ill at ease; her insides screamed at her to hurtle out of their sights but what she heard afterwards was far away from her considerations;

“Like mother, like daughter, indeed.”

Her eyes shifted to her grandmother; the tufts of grey hair were buried underneath her pashmina, her face appeared rumpled all the way to her eyes, in addition to her teeth that were chipped to their edges, with the majority of them withered away. Afiyah was disappointed by her aspect, embarrassed that she had deluded herself to believe that the elderly lady could commit such a misdemeanor.

 Her grandmother fiddled with her fingers as she pressed herself into the couch further still as if to ease herself; she appeared gauche. At that moment of time, she eventually understood the cause considering her father’s unforeseen fuming self. She nodded, twice; barely able to stand there, she left in an instant.

 

Afiyah was sniffing, tugging the comforter against her face as she drew in a heavy breath the moment she observed the door to her room open leisurely, slowly but steadily. A head appeared from between the door, “Would it be accepted if I join you?”

She stayed rigid but her dewy eyes stared back at the silhouette. Her room was gloomy, the poorly lit room made it ridiculously easy for her to hide her smeared face that appeared unappealing with the dried tears.

“It’ll take that as a yes.” With his voice trembling, the intruder added.

The moment Talal entered the dark, she panicked; the apprehensions obvious. She blinked, narrowing her eyes while the lights filled her room. Talal expressed an apology the second he comprehended her reaction to the brightness; losing his nerve, he attempted to switch off the lights right after.

“Let it be, I’ll get used to it.”

Talal appeared nervous, he ambled up to Afiyah and sat at the ledge of her bed, “You know the best part here, is that I can understand your situation?”

“How come..?” It was a plain question that concealed thousands of answers behind.

“Life is complicated Afiyah. And believe me, I have seen the worst.”

“He disrespected me in the presence of everyone. I’ve never imagined that he would behave that way. But then, I saw someone sulking into their seats.”

Talal gave the most engaging response, he chortled; “The point that they sulked, ashamed I may assume.” He scratched the bridge of his keen nose, “Honest people are the worst treated, they suffer the most.”

She nodded, “I’m well aware of this heinous fact already.”

"You ought to be. People will try to throw stones at you when you're high in the sky, and they'll be willing to pull you down. But for certain people, a palm in the face are all that is required."

She burst out laughing and sniffed swiftly afterwards.

“Wouldn’t a cup of tea would be more appropriate?”

She had already given a nod. Talal shot to his feet like a bolt of lightning, he returned with two cups of tea in his hands. They exchanged conversation and laughed at Talal's most inane remarks. Afiyah was taken aback because she had never sat with him before; all the time, he was in a good mood and could make you laugh just by sitting in a corner. She couldn't fathom herself smiling after the events of the previous day, she had never been very happy to see Talal during family gatherings, but he had become his new best buddy afterwards.

 

Sameer returned later that night, at the dead of night. Afiyah awoke from her slumber after hearing a bang against her bed. As she strained to peer over the edge of the bed, she imagined a burglar or a robber. She saw a figure, drenched with sweat, with poorly ruffled hair, and she trembled; those brown tufts of hair belonged to Sameer.

She dashed towards him, jerking him back from his stupor. Each time she shoved Sameer, he whimpered in return. As she attempted to push him, her palms pressed hard against his chest, shaking him as if he were being jolted by eruption's tremors.

"For the love of your God, Sameer, open your eyes." She yelled softly to avoid being heard.

“Water...” She ran out of the room to get the glass of water after he grumbled for a few seconds. She returned to a sleeping Sameer and seated beside him. She hummed prayers whilst she spent the night next the half-asleep Sameer, removing the damp curls off his forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, she never managed to find what had happened to Sameer that night.