Before Our Dawn| ongoing

thirteen

chapitre treize
━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Four days later, the morning of Isra's birthday dawned with a glorious radiance, the sun's rays painting the sky with a palette of gold and pink. It was a picturesque day, perfect for celebration and merriment. But despite the beauty that surrounded her, Isra's heart was broken and cloaked in a veil of melancholy. The sweet chirping of the birds outside and the gentle rustling of the trees in the breeze were unable to lift her spirits. She tried to shake off her despondent mood, but the memory of Haadi's confession lingered like a dark cloud over her head.

With a deep sigh, Isra rose from her bed and began to prepare for the day ahead. She filled her basin with cool water and basked in the simple pleasure of her morning bath, the scented soap and warm water washing away any remnants of the previous day's troubles.

Once refreshed, she donned her attire for the day. After much consideration, she selected a plain, powder blue dress that hung softly on her frame, the fabric cool and light against her skin. It had a modest neckline that covered her chest and extended to her collarbone. The sleeves were short, just enough to cover her shoulders, and the hemline fell just below her knees. She slipped on a pair of blue flats, completing her understated but tasteful ensemble.

She then approached her vanity and took up her hairbrush, running it through the dark strands of her hair, taming the wild curls that framed her face. The brush glided through her locks, its bristles gentle against her scalp. Ready for the day ahead, she eft her bedroom.

As Isra descended the staircase, the soft rustling of her dress filled the air, heralding her arrival. She glided into the kitchen, where her parents were already seated, enjoying their breakfast. Her mother greeted her with a warm smile and a heartfelt wish of a happy birthday, but her father remained cold and distant, his disapproval and dourness palpable. Despite her mother's kind gesture, the weight of her father's disapproval was like a stone around her neck, threatening to drag her down into the depths of despair.

Gazing at her father's impassive face, a wave of emotion rose within her, and she struggled to hold back tears of sadness and frustration. Isra knew that she was supposed to be celebrating her birthday, surrounded by love and laughter, but instead, she was suffocating under the her father's anger and disappointment and Haadi's betrayal.

"Happy birthday, my dear Isra. What would you like to do to celebrate today?" she asked.

"I don't have any plans for the day," Isra said. "I'll spend it with you both, I suppose."

Her mother's face lit up with delight at her words, and she leaned over to give her daughter a tender hug. "That sounds lovely. We can do whatever you want. It's your special day, after all."

Isra smiled weakly, her eyes laden with sadness. She picked at her breakfast in silence, lost in thought.

Samia tried to break the tension with light-hearted conversation, asking Tarek about his plans for the day. But he remained stubbornly silent, his face like a mask of stone. She let out a frustrated sigh, but she refused to give up. "Come on, darling, talk to me."

Isra appreciated her mother for being the peacemaker, but Tarek was a stubborn man, and no amount of persuasion would get him to move past Isra's blunder.

Her husband remained unresponsive, his eyes fixed on his plate. She felt a pang of sympathy for her mother, who was trying so hard to make the day special but was being met with such resistance.

She longed for a sense of normalcy, for the beauty of the day to wash away the ugliness of the previous day's events.

"How is Haadi doing, Isra? I haven't seen him in a while." Samia's cheerful expression faltered for a moment when she mentioned Haadi, sensing the unease in the room.