𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

·˚ ༘

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November 12th 2018

ZAHRA NICHOLS

What do you do when you don't like the place you're at? You leave. I checked my phone, and saw the clock was a little over 2:00 AM, and Charles needs the car, so I opened Google Maps, saw it was a twenty minute walk back to the villa, and decided to go home on foot. I slipped away from Charle's arm wrapped around me and sneaked my way outside, going out the side door.

Leaving Charles behind felt like abandoning a ship in a storm, but I needed to stop feeling suffocated and breathe free. The thumping bass and flashing lights had lost their sparkle, now all I feel is a sense of isolation.

The street was quiet, I pulled my jacket tighter around me, and each step echoed in silence. Suddenly, a voice shattered the stillness, cutting through the darkness like a knife. "Zahra, wait!" Charles stumbled out of the club clumsily and uncoordinated. He caught up to me, his breath warm against my ear. "Don't leave! Come back inside! You're missing out on all the fun!" His words slurred together.

I turned to face him, trying to keep a smile intact. "No, it's fine, I'm kinda off right now, I'll talk to you about it when you're not drunk" I smiled. As I took a step forward, he grabbed my hand and pulled me close, stopping me in my tracks.

"Come on," He said, grinning. I shook my head refusing his offer.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I've had enough," I said gently, trying to not kill the mood. "I don't belong there, and you know it."

He frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about? Of course, you belong there! You're with me," he protested, desperately. 

I shook my head, and slowly, anger started to rise up in me. "That's just it, Charles. I'm tired of feeling like I'm invisible, like I'm just some accessory to your night out," I snapped, my voice rising with each word. "I need to feel seen, to feel like I matter."

His expression hardened. "You do matter, Zahra. You matter to me," he insisted, clearly frustrated. 

"But you're acting like a child, throwing a tantrum because things didn't go your way." He said.

I was silenced, his words cut deep, fueling the fire of anger. "I'm not a child, Charles. I'm a person with feelings, with needs," I shot back, my voice started trembling.

"The thing about you Zahra is that, you just don't care do you? I bring you out here for some fun, and you don't care! You haven't did anything, didn't drink, didn't even talk!" Charles protested. 

I felt a surge of desperation and frustration at the same time. "You think I don't care? You think I'm just here to ruin your fun? You're so blind, can't you see how much I've been trying to hold it in?" I blurted out.

My voice quivers and I struggle to contain my tears. I throw my hands, gesturing around. "I'm tired of feeling like I'm invisible to you, tired of pretending everything is fine when it's not. But you're too drunk to notice, too drunk to care."

It was like my words hit him like a wave. He looked so confused and unsure. "What are you talking about? I don't understand," he protests, his words slurred from the alcohol. "I thought we were having a good time. Why are you making this into something it's not?"