Beyond Desire

43- I could really use a "lethal strike" right about now.

The only thing predictable about life is its unpredictability.

One minute you are swimming through the ocean of absolute certainty as on where your life was heading, and the next minute you are being slammed into a parallel universe with no manual whatsoever. The icing on the cake? Time never waits for you to adjust to the change.

You might think I am blabbing but my life is an absolute representation of my words.

I don't remember falling asleep. I'd spent the night braced on the edge of the mattress with my eyes locked on the door, waiting for my mother to barge in and start tearing into me for my attitude. I was so sure she'd come up to iron out my mannerlessness, but the hallway stayed quiet. Eventually, the silence just wore me down.

And the next thing I knew, I was jolted upright by the sharp crunch of gravel and the low synchronized growl of multiple engines.

I scrambled to the window, my heart hammering against my ribs. For a fleeting, desperate second, I thought it might be Dada, that he had returned to fix everything. But as I pulled the curtain back, I saw a convoy. The family's black SUV was idling in the center, flanked by two Hilux trucks packed with soldiers.

For the next few minutes, I simply watched, frozen on the spot by sheer disbelief. The gate was swung open, and with no hesitation whatsoever, the brake lights flashed and the convoy zoomed out of the compound, one behind the other, until all three were gone.

I found myself whispering something my brain couldn't quite catch. Then, as if pulled out of a trance, I snapped back and sprinted out of the room, my feet slapping against the cold marble of the stairs. I reached Mahir's door and threw it open so hard it hit the stopper with a crack.

"Mahir?"

The silence that punched me was heavy. The room wasn't stripped. His bed was unmade, and everything was in place, chaotically scattered around just like his mind works. But I took one look at the room and knew that he had left with Mama.

They left.

The betrayal felt like a dead weight, a cold lump of lead settling in my stomach. I was alone in a house that suddenly felt like a tomb. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my own mother and brother chose to flee and leave me to face the world alone.

I had told them to leave without me, but never in a million years did I think Mama would actually pull through with it. The worst I'd expected was her dragging me to the car by my ear, or maybe, if I was lucky, her finding some reason in my words and changing her mind.

But she didn't. She chose to just... leave.

My pulse thrummed in my fingertips, a frantic, uneven beat that matched the sudden, hollow ache in the pit of my stomach.

What I felt most was a sharp mix of betrayal and fear. I turned away from the door, intending to head for the living room, but the sight of a maid already there, quietly cleaning, stopped me cold. I wasn't ready to be seen, not like this. Instead, I pivoted and headed back upstairs.

The hurt lasted for maybe ten minutes. Then, it curdled into a hot, focused rage. It was the kind of fury that makes your vision go sharp. My hands, which had been trembling just moments ago, went perfectly still. I found myself gripping the banister so hard the wood bit into my palms, the pain felt much better than the betrayal. If this was the game she wanted to play, if she really thought leaving me behind was a lesson I needed to learn, then I was more than ready to show her exactly how well I could get to the bottom of this matter on my own.

If they were cowards, I wouldn't be. If they wanted to run and let the world believe we were a family of thieves and traffickers, that was their choice. But I am not going anywhere. Now, I was not only determined to find the root of whatever mess they were hiding, but I also wanted to prove a point to my mother. I am not a child. Her child? Yes, but not "a child".