Unlikely To Happen

Part 22 - His Story, A History

So, surpriseeeeee...... A little of Zaakir.

Part 22 – His Story, a history.

The pure, brilliant white light from the moon shone through the broken, roofless structure they took shelter in. It cast a bright enough light for the married couple to stare at one another's face, yet Zaakir could not face his wife.

He could put it down to the howling wind, or the way that the wind sounded as it hit the tiny stone littering the ground, forcing them up and causing collisions between them. He could say it was the way that the ground was freezing up, making him colder than he has ever been in his spoiled life. He could say that he was distracted by the fact that Maleeha was willingly laying on his chest, but he knew that was a lie. There were many times in the past that they had been in the position that they were currently in.

"I dare you!" she challenged him.

Pitch black hair got trapped in the wind as it wrapped up the two children, but the feisty seven-year-old was not bothered by the fact. Her hair swirled messily around her, getting caught in her mouth and eyelashes, but she stared defiantly at the eleven-year-old in front of her. Purple and checked black and white dress swayed from the wind as the shimmering sun rays danced on her skin and ebony hair.

Zaakir stood awkwardly as he watched her both mesmerized and annoyed. His dark brown hair was long, hanging untidily by his ears and curling in his eyes. "Maleeha," he said softly. "No, please." He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and casted a brief glance at his black sneakers.

She huffed and crossed her arms as she turned around on her heel and stomped off. If he knew that she wouldn't be mad, Zaakir would have laughed at her tantrum. He knew that if he did laugh at her, she would not speak to him and it would be weird and difficult. Zaakir was the only one from his family to attend Maleeha's primary school, or actually, her parents sent her to his school. For that reason, her parents picked him up and dropped him at home daily and he was left to sit with her and her sister in the back seat.

"Maleeha!" he pleaded as he ran after her and caught her by her arm. "Don't be like that! You know that I can't do that."

"Because you are a chicken!" she teased him. "Because you are a frog!"

He stepped back from her and shook his head, his heart beseeching hers to understand why he couldn't go through with the dare. How could he ask her sister out? How could he even think of it when he liked Maleeha? Qandeel was nice, but she was a difficult girl, spoiled, and Zaakir didn't like spoiled girls. Qandeel was kind and she looked after Maleeha but Zaakir often saw her fighting with other girls and she was always the first in the class to raise her hand and answer questions.

Qandeel was pretty, but Zaakir knew how many of the other boys in his class liked her. He knew she didn't like him, she liked his older brother. Who wouldn't?

Zaakir knew that apart from Maleeha, no one else really liked him. They all ignored him and no one thought about him. No one ever looked at Zaakir as an individual, as his own person. They lumped him together with his other siblings, assuming that he had their same interests and that he liked what they liked, just because he was 'another one of the boys'. Maleeha was the only one who didn't see him that way.

That was why he put up with Maleeha's bratty behaviour. Zaakir had known Maleeha since she was born. His father and her father had spent many weekends together, until Maleeha's mother fell ill when Maleeha was two years old. When she turned four, he was invited to her birthday party. And that was the first time he met her after a long time. The first thing she noticed was, amongst all of his siblings, she looked at him and asked him why his hair was so long. His family laughed at her chubby and adorable face while he blushed, but she struck a chord in his heart. She noticed him. Before greeting his parents, before noticing his other siblings. Her eyes fell on him.