3. New House, Old memories

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It has been two weeks since the frightful night of the call. 2 excruciating weeks of sorrow and uncountable people coming to offer their condolences and sympathies to the poor girl.

Now I sat there and looked back to the day they left. It all felt so normal, nothing out of place. I clearly remembered my Maa's beautiful face and my Abba's brown eyes that glistened with pride and crinkled at the corners every time he looked at me and smiled. One moment we were together all smiles and laughter, and the next....

This is life.

A warm hand on my shoulder broke my train of thoughts. Aunt Aalia pulled a chair and sat in front of me. She pushed back a strand of hair, that had previously fell, out of my face.

"Habibti it's time to go" she said in her Arabic accent.

Indeed it was.

My father's brother, Uncle Amir had refused to leave me alone in this house. He had always taken care of me like his own children, maybe not as close as my father was but he was definitely one of the few people I loved. He offered to take me with him and I agreed. As an only child it was just me in the house that haunted my dreams as well as my consciousness. Everything in that house had the power to bring back memories and I knew I couldn't live there without hearing my mothers melodious voice or my fathers deep rich laughter.

I looked around the room in hopes to find anything Aunt Aalia and her daughter Zehra had missed, but was left disappointed not to find any. In the past 2 weeks they didn't let me touch anything. I never knew how the guests were served or who cooked dinner every night. They took care of literally everything.

Everything including my aunt, my father's cousin Aunt Saima, to be exact. She hadn't even spared us that day. In her late forties, she was a frightful lady I may add. With piercing brown eyes and a bob of brown hair, she never missed a chance to humiliate others, always catching up to recent gossip and adding up her own twist to make it more exciting to spread to others. I heard her say something as I left the room, after meeting the guests that had come to pay their respects, which stopped me in my tracks: "She was a fierce girl even in the wake of her parents, now that my dear brother is gone I don't know what this girl would turn up to be. Zaid should've listened to me when I asked him to keep a stricter control over his daughter."

"She is Alhamdulillah a very decent girl. Amir has taken her under his guidance and she is a daughter to me, anyone who talks bad for her would have to cross paths with me and Amir first." Aunt Aalia surprised me when she uttered those words in a clipped tone. I would've pondered over this incident some more, if my heart wasn't already full of grief from the recent tragedy.

I walked to the door and looked back one last time. Lilac walls and an old wood chair stared back at me. The room was void of all furniture as it was already transported to uncle Amir's home yesterday. Even though uncle Amir's house is at a distance of 30 minutes from here I would rarely have time to come visit this house frequently.

Not letting my mind wander off to memories again I switched off the lights and closed the door.

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