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11|Feef and Dan

“How is she doing?”

“Not bad. I sedated her because she was crying hysterically, begging to be released, making my ears bleed.  Mansoor raised a crybaby. She is, however, eating whatever little we are providing her.”

“Hmm. Don’t let her die at least for now,” the person on the other end said.

“Hmm. What do you intend to do with her? She is a loose end, a ticking time bomb. The elections are on our heads; we need to be careful. I don’t think it was a good idea that you let her live. When Mustafa ordered for her to be killed you should have just left her to die. Now this girl is going to be a pain to handle,” the man said frustrated, combing his fingers through his hair. “If she lives, we have a problem; if she dies, we have a problem…”

“You don’t have to worry about her, you just do as I say. Keep her safe till I ask you to and when the time is right, I’ll dispose of her myself,” the man on the other end said assertively.

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It's been a month since Dan was sent to the States. Never in his life had he felt more lonely than he did as he walked through the roads of New York. His parents had thought that he would somehow forget Feef after coming to the States; on the contrary, he missed her all the more. Every time he looked at best friends goofing around; he missed her; whenever he saw couples holding hands, strolling around, he missed her touch. He missed her in every breath he took, in every second of his life and he couldn't help but rub his wedding band as a lone tear escaped his eyes. She was his everything: best friend, lover, partner in crime, safe place, and constant support. Simply his. His world revolved around her, and he couldn't believe how unfortunate he ended up being to lose his world so early in life. He couldn't help but bitterly chuckle at the fact that he was now a randwa (widower).

Before the whirlpool of thoughts sucked him in, he lit a cigarette and took a puff of it. It was futile and he knew it. Today was not the day cigarettes would help soothe his nerves. He headed towards the bar because he knew he needed something strong to just forget it all, escape the harsh reality and let himself loose. However, Dan's phone rang and on the screen was Azeem's name displayed. Dan was conflicted about whether to pick up his call or not. He knew it was not Azeem's fault that his twin sister was dead, but Dan couldn't help but blame everyone, including himself, for Feef's death. If only Azeem was not enjoying his trip to the northern areas with his friends, maybe Feef would not have gone to the highway, and maybe she would have been alive. If only he had taken Feef to the US with him after their exams, then maybe she would have been alive. For the past month, all Dan was doing was trying to rid himself of the guilt by putting it on someone else. Yes, he was Feef's husband, but Azeem was her brother, too; he should have been there for her. Before Dan could decide on whether he should pick up Azeem's call or not, it had already ended.

However, his phone rang again, and this time, he decided to pick it up.

"Hello Dan! How are you?"

"Hey.... I'm fine. What happened?" He said after a heavy pause.

"Nothing. Just wanted to check up on you. How are you? Where have you been?"

"Huh, I'm in New York." Dan sighed heavily. He didn't know how to answer to his former question.

"New York? At your aunt's place?"

"Hmmm."

"I need to tell you something."

"Can I talk to you later Azeem? I have some work to do?" He replied curtly

"Ohh okay... But it is important..."

"I'm busy right now. I'll call you later," Dan cut him midsentence

"Ohh... Bye!"

"Bye!" Dan cut the phone call short feeling slightly guilty for talking to Feef's twin like that. As much as he tried not to think about Feef, Azeem's voice irritated him. He knew it was wrong of him to blame Azeem, but he couldn't help it. He was potently reminded of what he had lost and how it couldn't be mended again.

Don't hate me, Feef, for talking to your brother like that; I just can't right now. He said that in his heart as he looked up at the sky while he headed towards the bar. He needed whiskey and vodka to burn his throat just so that he could forget the burning pain in his heart.

Upon reaching the bar owned by his cousin's friend, Dan took a seat and asked for his regular. By now even the bartender was accustomed to Dan coming in late in the night and drinking it all away despite not being of drinking age. Somehow, downing two shots of vodka did nothing to him now; he was amazed at the speed at which he was developing tolerance for the drink.

"Hey, pretty boy! Wanna dance?" a pretty brunette dressed in a skimpy red dress seductively asked him, to which he declined, and she left rather annoyed. He was not in the mood to dance; he was not in the mood to do anything except drink his miseries away. Today, somehow, he didn't care about anything esp., about being polite. He didn't know how to handle his angst.  He only wanted his best friend today because, for the first time in his life, he had failed on a subject, and for the first time in his life, he didn't care about anything: scores, humiliation, dreams, ambitions. Never in his life did he think that he would be so lost, wouldn't know what he wanted any more with life; somehow, everything was meaningless for him now. Dan chucked down a couple more shots before he felt tipsy.

"What is up with you?" His cousin Amina hissed angrily at him seeing him so disoriented.

"Nothi...iinng, you look fun..ny...Amina," he drawled out, making her all the more irritated.

"I'll look even more funny when I spank your ass in front of all these people, Dan! You are frikkin 15! Who allowed you to drink!?"

"Well, I don't need permission from Annyyyyonee Amina. I am not a baby so stop treating me as one. I can do what I want," he replied rather curtly.

"Well, you are a frikkin baby, Dan, and, no, you can't drink your ass away like that! I'm gonna kill Ibrahim for showing you this place and getting you access in here!"

"Yes, you are older than me, but you aren't my mother, so stop acting like her," he angrily spewed.

"I'm at the end of my wit Daniyal Khan, and I promise I will smack you and haul your ass to our house, so stop giving me unnecessary attitude. You are my baby brother and I'm not gonna let you waste your life drinking it away! You can cry all you want but I'm not budging an inch! So now take your ass to the car, for I am driving you home," she said with a no-nonsense attitude glaring at Dan the entire while, this time, Dan listened to her because he knew there was no other way around it. So he angrily stomped towards the car, almost catching himself from falling several times.

Dan woke up in his bed in the morning with a splitting headache. He didn't know what time he fell asleep and how he ended up coming to his room, all he could remember were the scoldings of his elder cousin Amina. Chucking down some Tylenol, he trudged towards the washroom to take a shower; he needed a cold shower to bring him back to his senses.

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