Desperate Soul

♪24♪ Ambiguous

||Chapter Twenty Four||
Ambiguous

NOUR'S POINT OF VIEW:

I wakened to the sunlight out of my window burning my eyes. I unhurriedly flashed my eyes open, squinting in an attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me. I glimpsed around and found my hand snatched in a long metal pole and needled indicating that the blood bag swinging on the pole was reaching me. My room was silent apart from my heavy breathing. Breath?! I am supposed to be dead and to end this misery. How long have I been here? I secured my eyes, struggling to recall what had exactly happened. Then it all hits me with a slap, literally. The memory of me and my parents arguing started to absorb my thoughts.

I committed it. I cut my hand. The darkness engulfed me. The pain jolted all over my body. My fragile and broken heart couldn't bear listening to all the harsh words as if they were throwing rocks directly at me. It didn't hurt as much as the realization that I didn't succeed. I was still alive.
Out of tendency, my right hand traveled to my left one, pressing the throbbing area, the folded one with plasters. I could feel the scar inside and then winced at the pain. I tried to stand up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I immediately knocked down back onto the bed. My body was shoved in pain as if opposing my decision to rise. I lay down there pathetically, waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, thinking about the next step.

My series of thoughts were interrupted as an old man with a round belly stepping in front of him and rectangular glasses framing his dark black eyes, wearing his pajamas and holding a newspaper stepped in, and emerged from the door of my room. It was nobody rather than my dad.

" You're awake. You scared the hell out of us. Your mum was crying all night." He delivered a smile to me and fetched a wooden chair. Patting my hair while resting his newspaper in his lap, his concerned eyes scanned me. I was speechless. More masks they wore and exerted their effort to hide whatever was under. They didn't care about what happened as if it was just a glimpse, they wished they were blind to not witness it. My eyes were empty, not showing any emotions or reactions. My heart was flooded by doubt and peace that was hard to find and couldn't calm the waves. Lies surrounded me whenever I go. It always led me to an ended wall but my suspicions soul was exempt enough to pass through the wall and keep going. My lips were tightened until words managed to escape forming a question. "Where is she?"

"She... She is in her room. She just won't make it to your room now. Umm... Give her some time... "He stumbled averting his eyes and trying to phrase a complete sentence to complete the lie. I knew she would never dare to check on me. I bet if she did cry. My mum was never the person I wished to be her daughter. I couldn't cope with her. Everything was difficult but it was hard to tell if I was the problem. The burden was unbearable to even carry on my shoulder. Their outrageous words wrecked my already broken heart.

My father cutting my thoughts, stated unexpectedly, his eyes still putting on the same concerned and anxious look " Listen, darling, I know we may seem a pressure on you. We made your life uncomfortable, but I assure you that it is for your own sake. I know how hard it is for you to follow your mother's rules. They are stringent and cautiously strict and hard to bear. However, she knows what's best for you. We might not be the perfect parents but......."

I didn't understand the purpose of his speech. Why was he saying that? and what should I do about it? I was the one laying in my bed in pain and they were the cause of it. I almost committed suicide because I had enough. No one could ever survive what I went through. It was like a civil war, none of us was tolerant but instead, we sharpened our knives above our necks. While analyzing his words and interpreting them, he interrupted me again and cut my thoughts.

" I wish you could understand, but I cannot tell you. If I told you, you might not bear the consequences. " I frowned not understanding what he was talking about. What are these consequences? What was wrong with me? Why was he behaving strangely? I was silent but listening carefully trying to decipher his puzzle not paying attention to the quick drums inside my chest. I felt precarious and doubts were stuffed in my mind for a moment I didn't wish for a chance to prove that I made something terrible. But what did I do that they couldn't tell me about it?

"Your last years may seem to you ambiguous and blurred. But no, You seem perfectly fine. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. It is not your fault. Try an inventive approach to things you evaded. Do things you would never think of doing. It is okay to pretend to be someone else. " His last words were passing through my soul not mentioning how familiar they were. I felt exposed as if I could be easily seen through. I couldn't hold it. My anger was gushing and my blood was steaming. I felt my words were flown like growls and I would end up misunderstood. Nonetheless, I had enough of secrets. I craved hearing the truth. I was barely crying out my anger to my father. I winced the moment I felt the headache invading my head but it didn't stop me. " So what is my fault? I don't know what I have done. Maybe I have the right to know at least to soothe my curiosity and to have a complete understanding of what I am in. I just cannot remember your temperament towards me when I was young. I lost your identities. I just can't. What is happening to me that makes it hard to remember my childhood? I don't recall memories. My own damn memories!" My bloodshot eyes were a step ahead before halting in tears and ceasing unstoppable sobs. My reality seemed like a blur. I didn't want to know what was real and what is not anymore. But my inside was killing me, was fighting for a false truth. It wasn't there and if it was here so it was hidden perfectly.

"Dad, what happened to me? " My voice suffered taking his way long out my mouth. It was barely heard between my sobs and my whimpers. The room was so heated and my tears raced down reaching my lips lingering and licking their salty taste. It was a miserable and pathetic situation. I was desperate!

"It has happened since..." His voice was so low and broke. He took off his glasses and rubbed them roughly before lowering his head. As cowardly he was, he never uttered the next words. He didn't dare to spell them out. I knew I would always stay behind the walls not reaching any light or any hopes. It was my last chance but it flew away. I didn't give up. I would fight to know to replenish my curiosity and crave my soul. I glanced at him hoping for the last time to tell me.

"Since when dad? Since when?" He straightened himself up and headed towards the door leading himself out without spitting any more words. He was ignoring me until he held the knob on the door and said facing the door not daring to look me in the face. Such a coward! "It's okay darling, I just want you to forgive me! "

The door was slammed leaving me in the room to be engulfed by my overthinking. That couldn't be my life. I didn't wish for that. If got the chance to choose my own destiny, it would be ended differently. Why didn't I have the will to choose my own fate, my own family? I didn't decide on that. Why it was always me who should always suffer? Why didn't I have a normal and quiet family? Why did I have to be patient? I was. but it became boring. There was no change, the same results. If Allah wanted it, why did he ever create me? Let him do it by himself. Why was I brought to life when my destiny was already defined? Where were my choices from the first beginning? Maybe Hamza was right. We were brought to life to just experience it not to decide. It was always there waiting for us to be born and to start the cycle.
Hamza was right...
Undoubtedly!

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