Muslim Tomboy?...Impossible

Ms Tomboy And The Gol Gappas

#NotEdited

"Hey?" I raised my hand timidly for a little wave.

"Get her out my sight! Out!" His voice echoed in the living room. A few veins were visible on his wrinkled forehead and neck. Across the room the same actions were copied by Nayal except for the wrinkled part. I watched his Adam's apple blobbing up and down with every breathe and his face turned crimson.

"Father..." His cold tone sent chills down my spine.

"You think I will tolerate this skank of yours? F**k you!"

"Enough!" The man didn't seem years older than Nayal the way he got quite at his demand.

But what came next petrified me even further. Nayal galloped in my direction like literally galloped, yanked me by hand and dragged me behind the wall.

"I.Told.You.To.Stay.There!" He hissed.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know that..."

"You didn't know what? That I have a shi...." His fingers found their way in the tangled mess, grasping them from the root. "Why don't you go and just wait in the car?"

Vigorously nodding my head—that wasn't wrapping anything happening right now, I turned towards the door. What came next blew my mind a thousand miles away.

"Who are you?"

My eyes turned into saucers at his words. I was beyond shocked. More shocked than the time 1D broke up.

What? I thought they were going to last longer than Taylor Swift's boyfriends.

Don't judge! I live in this world, I have a vague idea what's going on.

But not what was happening right now. My gaze shifted from Nayal to his father whose words clearly affected me but not the other two people.

What in the name of Nutella marshmallows is happening here?

~*~

"You said you were an orphan."

Under the dim porch light, his stress lines were far visible. He was looking around the quite street not able to meet my gaze. I wrapped my arms under my knees adjusting my face on it.

"Don't believe everything people tell you." The wooden stairs squeaked under his pressure. A foot length space between our shoulders.

"He has Alzheimer's. Stage 6. And he's slightly demential." Due to my face turned left, I couldn't decipher his expressions. All I could hear was the irritating sound of his nails scratching the wood.

"You never said anything."

"You never asked." Guilty crawled my insides. I hated my socializing skills, they needed some serious polishing.

"Sorry?" Biting my lips, I turned to face him. Him taking out a cigarette didn't bother me the least. I've had enough friends who barbecued their lungs gladly.

"Sorry to disappoint you but it's not a metaphor. " He chuckled nonchalantly making me laugh.

The cigarette was dangling from his lips when I popped the next question.

"I've met Jess's father...." As usual he interrupted me.

"We shared the same womb."

"Oh."

"Don't blame me. She wasn't worth being called a mother." Hatred dripped from his words.

"She left on my first day of school; 4th September 1996. I remember I had those what were they call...um...Teletubbies? Yeah that! I had their backpack." His hazel eyes shimmered in the dark night. "The day went perfect. But by afternoon, I sat at the bench near the playground waiting for her to pick me up. Guess who didn't show up?"