Another City Of Lights.

Chapter 3.

Samantha's POV:

English. Math. Physics. Geography. Urdu. History. Chemistry. Additional Math.
That was basically how my days were going.
Same schedule for every single day. Well, not entirely. Some days, a few classes wouldn't take place, but it was still very hectic.
7 hours of school everyday, and when I got home after that, there was always something new to stress about.

We hadn't been meeting regularly at The Tea House either. Aaron was never there, and all of us were busy as well because we had exams in two weeks. Not finals, just those monthly shitty papers that ruined everything. I didn't see the point of those. What were they trying to assess? How badly we all would flunk in the finals?

It was Wednesday when I noticed something was off when I entered my house.
I kicked off my shoes at the doorstep and went directly towards the kitchen, like I always did. It was then that I realized that my Mum wasn't there. Which was odd, because that's where she always was. Always.
Everytime I would come home, I would see her standing in the kitchen, her hair tied up haphazardly, and working at unbelievable speed.

"Mom?", I called out, walking inside to look for her.
I found her in her bedroom, sitting on the bed, and weeping silently.
"What happened now?", I went and stood infront of her.
I felt like the horrible daughter that I was when I asked her things this way. But it was so typical, and so obvious now, that it didn't really effect me now.
"Nothing happened. I'm just tired. Go on and start studying now", She mumbled, wiping her face on her sleeve.
"I just got home", I said, sounding a bit harsh.
"Okay", She said simply, and fell back on the bed.
"Are you going to sleep?", I questioned.
"Yes", She said, pulling the blanket over her head.
I closed the door quietly on my way out, and plopped down on the couch in the living room.
I felt sorry for her, I really did sometimes. But I also didn't know how to help her.

We were well off, better than some people and I had always been told that I should be grateful for that, which I was. But that didn't stop my Mom from being miserable, and my Dad from being a jackass.
Mom was like me, or rather, I was like her. She was incredibly sensitive, and took everything to heart. She was devoted to taking care of her family, and she took that to the extreme. Married young, and now she almost never actually put herself first.
She worried about me, about how lazy I was and how the hell would she ever find someone who would want to marry me. And because of that, she was always trying to make me change my ways so that I'd become the 'perfect' daughter-in-law. Like hell I would. I didn't care about that. As far as I was concerned, marriage was off the list. Actually, it wasn't even on the list to begin with. Stupid traditions.

She was forgiving too. I mean, I was too but not that much. She was forgave my father for whatever shit he put her through. She forgave him and his family when they tortured the shit out of her (mentally, and sort of literally), she forgave him when he had constant affairs with other women, and she still forgives him everyday when he yells at us and takes out all the frustration he has on us.

She could never think about leaving him. Because 1: what would the people say?, and 2: he's the reason we still have a roof on our heads.
I despised these backward traditions. People here always considered women as part of their property. Like they owned them. And women didn't have any rights at all. All they could do was get married and serve their husbands all their lives.
For a woman, there were no dreams, and no opinions, atleast not in Karachi.
Even though the practices were changing, and people and things were becoming modern, these basic traditions were still present today.

I got around to doing my homework after mentally cursing reality. I picked up my bag from the floor, and sat myself down on the dining table, pulling out my books and my pens. My brother, Tommy, was probably in tuition right now, so I decided to take advantage of this quiet house and get some work done.

I was halfway through the essay I had to write for English, when my cellphone buzzed. I was shocked at first because noone texted me at all, unless they needed something.
My cellphone was small, and black. I had gotten it after I scored straight A's last year, even though I hadn't asked for it. But I wasn't complaining, it was nice to have some mode of communication.
I opened the message, and saw that it was from Dash.
"Come outside!!!", It read.
Come outside? What? They all knew about the never-meeting-at-anyone's-house rule. What the hell did he mean?!

I jumped up from my seat, and ran to the window, pushing it open in a hurry, and peered outside.
Sure enough, there was Dash standing downstairs grinning like a happy puppy, and to my shock, Aaron was there with him.
I ran down the stairs, excited to see them and also frightened for my life.
"Are you mental?!", I shrieked at Dash, and he grinned again.
"We haven't met in so many days, Sam! Come on", He whined, and I rolled my eyes.
"Why're you here?", I wasn't stupid. If he wanted to only meet, he would've called us to The Tea House.
"We're having some fun on your birthday! I got tickets, see!", He threw the tickets on my face.
It was the school fair. Lame school fair, but it took place far away from here, so it should be fun.
"Oh, wow, okay", I said, trying to sound enthusiastic, but failing miserably.
Dash grinned again, and I noticed Aaron hadn't said a word. He was just standing there, looking around nervously.
"Will you come?", I asked him.
"Uh, I guess I can", He said, not looking at either of us.
I frowned. I wanted him to come. It was my birthday after all. It was the suckiest day of the year, but staying with them made it worth while.
I was planning an entire emotional speech that I could use to convince him to come, but before I could do that, he said;
"I'll come, Sam. Don't have a heartattack".
"Fine. Now go home", I told both of them, and then ran upstairs.

From my window, I watched them laughing and walking together until they parted ways at the end of the street. I smiled. Somehow, even after being busy and with no money, they always made my birthday count for something. I had my doubts that they did this only because I was the youngest. That was probably true. They treated me like a baby sometimes, even though they were just months older than me.

I got back to my homework, and started counting days til the weekend. Four more days til my birthday. Four more days, and then I get to have fun for a whole day. And as far as possible from this neighborhood, and from my home.