Would You Want to Stay (Zarry) (Book 1)

Chapter 8 (Mature)

Sunsets and sunrises. They are similar, but completely different. A sunrise will bring the start of a brand new day and endless possibilities. It could be a start of change, or the continuation of hell. But with the sunrise comes the chance of prosperity, and it is what I can hold onto and believe in.

Sunsets will bring darkness. It closes the door to freedom and suffocates you in a never-ending shadow. You scream for help, but your voice is silent; refusing to make a sound as you are enveloped in the memories of the day with no way to change them. The sunset brings us to a closing where the only thing left is to reflect on the day’s sufferings.

This is why I prefer the sunrise. The early morning is the only time in which I smile. There is nothing like hearing the sounds of birds singing as I am slowly awaken by their voices and the rays of light that glisten through the window.

My favorite place, I would have to say, is my bathroom. Especially with the glow of the morning light, the tilling of the shower sparkles as if it’s trying to bid me a good morning.

It’s not like anyone or anything else would.

My parents don’t give two shits about me, they make that obvious. They always say how I should act more like my sister. Doniya is doing so well, why can’t you take after her? Why didn’t we have another girl? You need to behave and become more like your sister.

These are just a small fraction of what I hear on a daily basis. Doniya is my older sister, and only sibling. We use to be close, but all the praise she receives from our parents has gone to her head. Now she believes that she is perfect, can do no wrong, and has great seniority over me.

I do my best to block my parent’s remarks out when I come down for breakfast. Toast was sitting out and waiting for me to come. Sadly my parents were still there. Silently I take my seat, but do not dare speak.

“Fuck Zayn. You should have been up an hour ago! Doniya left early so she can get some extra studying done at the library! Why can’t you be more like her? You’re a worthless brat.” My father, Yaser, informs me.

“I’m sorry.” I say, not looking up from the whole wheat bread that has been slightly burnt.

“Yaser, stop going so easy on him. The only way he is going to overcome his fucking problems is if you straight up tell him what’s wrong. He is selfish, lazy, retarded, poor dresser, I mean look at his hair!” Mum laughed. “It looks like a fucking ramp!”

“Yeah, what the fuck made you do that? It’s an embarrassment to this family. Hurry up and get out of my sight. I can’t bear to look at such a disgrace much longer.” My father turned his head so he was not facing me, and my mother did the same.

Feeling the tears starting I grab my last piece of toast, along with my school bag, and run out the front door. It was nearing the end of the school year, but I’m not sure whether I’m looking forward to it or not.

The brutality of the students is enough to drive any normal person into depression, but I am far past that point. Living at home could potentially be the worst thing that has ever befallen me.

My depression is deep. But I am not like others. I do not cut, self-harm, do drugs, or any other sort of thing. The only thing I do, is smoke. If I didn’t have my cigarettes, I would have been placed in a mental institution long ago.

They are my release. I have no friends, and my life is nothing but put-downs, bullying, beatings, tears and sorrow. Most nights I will lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling wondering what I did to deserve this life.