Lost Promises

The Day Of Separation

'Get up, get up, get uppp, we are leaving!' cried Haroon. I woke up in agony. I never wanted this day to arrive but unfortunately time doesn't go along with how you want it to. After today, I will be engulfed in a world where there is only loneliness, darkness and betrayal; a long path that is unlikely to end. I got up and put on my long, silky, strapless dress. It fit me perfectly, as if the maker had purposefully taken hours to measure every single angle of it. 'Does it fit you?' whimpering a soft, known voice behind me. I was frozen and could not even part my lips to speak. As the footsteps got closer and closer, my heart pounded louder than a lions roar, I felt like my heart rose up to my throat. Then, I felt a soft, gentle hand on my right shoulder, allowing my heartrate to return back to normal and I could feel my heart in my chest again. I was able to get a hold of the nerves and tilted my head around; it was my mother. Her hair was pinned back neatly as usual, her eyes were soaring red as if they were bleeding. I held on to her for along as I could and as I tight as I could. My mother was everything that I had, we made a promise several years ago when I was 7 (now 9),  that she will never ever leave me nor will I, but today was the day where she was going to leave me forever, I guess.

A rectangular shadow cut out its way into our room, a tall and gigantic man screamed in rage, 'Hurry up!' It was my old man. My mother let go of me and ran across the room and out of my sight, I walked slowly following her footsteps. There was a big, old rusty four wheeled car waiting as impatiently as possible. I saw my younger brother jumping up and down climb into the war torn car gently, followed by other two brothers and my older sister. My older brother, Nemeth was very kind hearted, happy and enthusiastic guy. My second brother, called Raees was the 'cry baby' of our house but was a sweet little skinny boy whom I 95% of the time fought with and 5% of the time we played. My younger brother; Ahmed was very popular for his cute little face in our village with whom I did not get along with at all. He was a show maker but  I loved him dearly. He was very close to my sister, Asma. I asked him one day why he did not like me, without hesitating he replied because I was 'ugly.' Of course, it did not affect me because he was only 5 years old (or maybe I did get hurt a little). The phrase 'ugly' was not new I have always been known as the 'ugly, dirty dark skinned girl' in school and at home. My old man told me that he found me on the streets and hated me. Because of such harsh comments  I knew none liked me which is why  I use to run away from my home to my grandmother's home.

The loud roaring sound of airplanes increased my heartrate uncontrollably. Why? Well, because I knew that our lives will change from here onwards. My mum gave me a giant bear hug and gave me a kiss and walked off along with Ahmed and Asma. My old man rushed us to get into the car and drove off. Once, we reached home, every room had turned into a land field site. The thousand piles of clothes were scattered around the house. 'Clean this right now!' screamed the old man. 'okay.' I quickly responded while my salty tears streamed down my face. I couldn't stop my tears even though hours had passed since their flight departed. However, with my little hands I had to act fast and clean the house. My old man came in, I thought his anger had calmed down since my mum had left because I thought he might show some sympathy towards me but unfortunately he didn't.

'Go on, what are you waiting for, cook some food.' He screamed again. Well, I ran into the kitchen, my stomach filled with butterflies because I couldn't cook and I knew if I use that as an excuse I would be in trouble. I was only nine and short so I couldn't even get the ingredients to make pasta because the shelves were so high. I somehow managed to get on the table top and get the tomato puree. I started the fire and poured it into a pan but because the heat was high it burned in matter of seconds. Anxiously, I quickly tried to cover up and clean it before he found out but he came in and surprisingly didn't say anything.

'Go, get me the chips and I will fry it.' He demanded softly. As he was frying it; he told me to get down and pick up the litter on the floor (when in fact there weren't any). I bend down and felt a hot substance on my neck.  I looked up and saw that he had dropped the boiling hot oil on me. I cried silently in pain and agony for my mum but realised that she was gone. I got up and left. That day, I knew that this separation will bring an end to me.