KYDAH: MY SIDE OF THE STORY

9- The Mask That Cracks, The Truth That Attacks

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He pulled up at the front of the beige house still not too happy he had to come.

Being an architect, it does not matter how big or magnificent the house he lives in is. He always appreciates buildings from the corners, to the edges to the finishing. He notices everything.

His eyes were impressed at the sight of the medium house that stood in front of him.

It was a magnificent two-story structure made of warm, sand-colored bricks. It has a charming symmetry, with tall, arched windows framed by white curtains on each side of a grand wooden front door.

The entrance was adorned with delicately carved patterns, making the house seem even more inviting. Two brick pillars stood on either side, supporting an elegant balcony on the second floor. The balcony was adorned with vibrant flowers, their petals swaying gently in the warm breeze. The exterior of the house was gracefully landscaped, with a lush green lawn and vibrant flower beds surrounding it.

A beautiful wrought-iron fence enclosed the property, providing a sense of privacy and serenity. The garden boasted well-maintained hedges, blooming roses, and a variety of tropical plants in vibrant shades of red, orange and purple. The scent of the flowers hung in the air, filling Aayan's senses with a tranquil aroma.

The house seemed to exude an air of happiness and warmth. It was a place that appeared to have witnessed countless loving memories and created a haven of comfort for its residents. Aayan couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and excitement as he took in the sight of this home he was sent to.

He made his way up to the stone pathway lined with solar-powered garden lights, the soft glow guiding him to the front door.

The door swung open before he even had a chance to ring the bell, and a young girl stood there, beaming with joy as if they had met before.

"Hi" She spoke in her baby voice and he couldn't help but squat down to her height as he extended his hand which she gladly shook.

"Hello.My name is Zohra and who are you?" she asked innocently with a smile that could melt any one.

He smiled back and before he could reply, a voice called from behind the girl.

"Zohra! I warned you to stop opening the door yourself. Didn't I?"

"Yes Mummy. You did" Zohra said opening up the door more as if that was what she was told to. He couldn't help but smile at the shenanigan the girl just pulled off.

The now opened door revealed a petite fair woman who Aayan concluded was the mother.

She looked quite sophisticated and intimidating if he must admit. She wore a purple lace sewn into a rich vibe buba and ture-kaga-tsiya styled head as she adorned herself with silver jewellery.

One more thing, her face was quite familiar.

He was sure that they had never crossed paths before but her face was definitely one he had seen before. How is that even possible? Even he did not know the answer.

"Assalamu Alaikum" He greeted with a tiny smile that looked rather forced.

"Waalaik Assalam" she replied softening up her expression a little even though he knew she didn't recognize who he was yet.