I walked downstairs after taking a bath and saw Milhan, my stepbrother, sitting on the couch.
"Assalamualaikum, Haaniyah! How are you?" he asked. He was back for the holidays, I guessed.
"Walaikumsalam, Milhan. I'm good, what about you?" I replied, using his name because he preferred it.
"But I don't see that on your face. Come sit here," he said.
"No, I'm fine. I just have a headache, that's all." I took a seat.
"Haaniyah, can you make those chapatis?" my stepmother huffed, her tone sharp as a knife. I exchanged a knowing smile with Milhan before making my way to the kitchen, bracing myself for the familiar storm.
Once she stepped out, I took a large bowl, pouring in the flour and salt as if summoning strength from the earth. With each swirl of olive oil, I mixed in the water, channeling my frustration into the dough, shaping it into something soft yet resilient. Kneading it on the board, I envisioned each chapati rising against the weight of expectations.
In just half an hour, the meat curry simmered, its rich aroma filling the air—a fleeting moment of triumph in a house where my efforts often went unnoticed.
"Aunt, everything is ready!" I called, my voice echoing as I placed the dishes on the table, one by one, like pieces in a game of survival. I caught sight of her approaching from her room, her eyes scanning for any flaw, any opportunity to unleash her criticism.
She beckoned everyone to eat, her tone brooking no argument. I felt the familiar knot in my stomach; I knew better than to sit with them. So, I grabbed two chapatis and a small portion of curry, clutching my plate as if it were a shield, and quietly walked away, seeking solace in the quiet corners of the house.
"
Haaniyah, why don't you join us today?" Milhan said, pulling out a chair, his voice inviting yet insistent.
"No, Milhan, I have a lot of work to do. It's okay; I'll eat upstairs," I replied, trying to brush him off.
"But Haaniyah, you always run to your room. Just come and sit here. Don't try to do everything at once—finish one thing before moving to the next," he urged. I stood there, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over me.
"Come on," he pressed, even as Dad remained oblivious, his gaze fixed elsewhere. Reluctantly, I stepped closer to the table, and Milhan pulled a chair beside him, almost forcing me to sit.
The moment I did, that witch shot me an angry look, and I quickly turned away, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
"Haaniyah, take more chapatis. Don't you eat at least five? That's why you don't grow fatter," Milhan joked, trying to lighten the mood. I managed a smile and took one more, feeling the weight of the moment.
"Rahma, eat another; it's getting low," Aunt said, her tone sharp and commanding.
"But there's plenty, Ma," Rahma replied, completely unaware that her mom was referring to me. I couldn't help but giggle inside.
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Umair's POV
It was almost 8:00 PM when I got home, threw my bag onto the cushion, and walked to the fridge. A bottle of cold water revived me. After a nice bath, I jumped onto the couch, switching through the sports channels. Nothing seemed to match my mood when my phone rang. Just as I reached for it, the call ended. Ugh, I really hate that
[hey dude brng me d tshrt tmrw ] It was a msg from Farhan ,I replied [ok buddy]
I am Umair, 19 years old. I have an elder brother who lives in Canada with his family. Last year, my parents were in an accident; I lost my mom on the spot, and my dad passed away a day later. I miss them so much, especially my mom. My dad provided for us, and my brother cares for me a lot. Now, I'm living in our own home with my own efforts. I consider my friends my family since it's been almost two years since I last saw my brother, just a week after Dad's funeral. I'm in my first year of advanced level mathematics and also play football.
I bought two packets of Maggi, my favorite. I cooked them along with some other ingredients, and it was ready in minutes. However, I felt bored with eating, so I stored the leftovers in the fridge and went to bed. If my mom were here, she would never have let me sleep without eating.
I guess you didnt like this chapter but I promise to be good in the next ,sorry buddies am bit mood out of whether my stories are boring pls comment for corrections!!!
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HABIBI AND HABIBATI
Romance"But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more." ― Hans Christian Andersen. You see? she laid her burdens down, And he just picked them up, Threw them over his shoulders, Reached for her hand, And boldly walked out, Into t...
