My Qadr

His other side

Farrah

Leaving my bed the next morning was not easy, wallah!.

For some reason, the mattress looked so inviting, it's worn out foam dangling off one side.

After a long moment of deliberating if loosing my job over sleep was really that bad, I decided to get up.

And it didn't have anything to do with the useless urge to see if Mr Zayyad was going to come to work, seriously!.

Finally, an hour later, the company was in my line of sight.

I sighed thankfully, cringing at the taste in the driver's choice of music.

I quickly alighted the cab, rummaging through my bag for some change.

A blush coated my cheeks as I caught the cab driver's gaze on my emergency sanitary pad, but I pretended not to see him, pushing the pad deeper into the endless abyss that was my bag.

A hand suddenly shot toward beside me, stretching forth some money to the driver.

"Keep the change" My entire body erupted in cold sweat, stiffening in anticipation of what was to come.

"Farrah...." the man behind me muttered sighing, his words only serving to worsen my situation.

"Good morning Ammar" I said, turning to the man.

I tried my best to keep the fear out of my voice, unwilling to satisfy the cruel hunger in him to see me suffer.

Ammar, tall and disputably handsome stood before me, but I wasn't fooled.

I'd seen the extent of his nastiness, and would be glad not having any reason to talk to him until the day I died.

Ammar looked at me and with a dejected look in his eyes he said,

"So it's Ammar now?" He asked, and I tried not to care for the hurt in his voice as he said so, but some part of me still shattered at his hurt.

I toughened my expression, contorting my expression into a facade of calmness and indifference.

"You mean what i called you before you seized every single opportunity you had to bully me, trip me in the hallways?"

Some part of me, the more rational part that I could trust revelled in the hurt that seized his features.

I wanted him to realise how much pain I felt when my heart felt like it was being ripped apart.

I had picked myself up everytime I was bullied by him, mending my heart back every single time.

But he would rip the stiches that held it together till I'd grown tired of it, tired of my feelings for him and tired of letting him cause me hurt.

No amount of bullying that I received from him, or tripping, or even laughing at me, could ever compare to the hurt I felt when he threw little comments about how pathetic it was that a dumb girl like me could ever think of liking someone like him.

The worst part of it all was the disgust he felt towards me, never would he look at me when his friends bullied me.

He'd avoid my gaze when I sought his, he never would answer the pleas I communicated through my eyes.

I sighed heavily, brushing off
my thoughts. I just wanted to go to work and see if Mr Zayyad was doing fine.

"See Ammar, thank you for paying the cab man, I really do appreciate. But I'd really like it if you pretend you don't know me"

I said and started to walk towards the office, before Ammar's words halted me.

"Farrah, I know you don't want to have anything to do with me. Trust me, I'm glad that you're even talking to me