The Woman With The Headscarf

» 03 «

» I'm so excited to be writing again, I missed it. I just wish that I had more time for this «

••

She barely got enough sleep that night or the night after that as her nightmares continued to haunt her even in her subconscious state.

She dreamed of those brutal hands again, how they'd felt against her chilled skin, how rough and forceful they'd been.

Lamees wondered if those dreams would ever stop, when she awoke in terror one night. She wondered whether she'd ever feel safe again, walking down the streets by herself. Will she always have to glance behind her and avoid dark alleyways at all costs?

How does one move one from a fear like this, from an injustice such as this?

She started taking several baths every day, washing herself over and over again, scrubbing hard like she was trying to wash away the past, the incident.

And all of this, she kept to herself. Struggled with it herself while her parents remained unaware.

But after a few days, even they had started noticing that she'd become more quieter than usual. Her mother asked her about it once, if something had been the matter, and she'd shaken her head. And forced a smile to her face. "I'm fine."

Her mother didn't seem too convinced but didn't push the subject any further.

Lamees stayed in her room most of the time and she spent hours drifting off to sleep before waking up, startled from her nightmares. She had completely given up on drawing.

One evening, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror in her bathroom and cringed at what she saw. Her hazel eyes seemed void of all life and the dark circles around her eyes had become more pronounced. Her lips were pale and dry, cracked. She looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks - which explained why her mother had insisted she had an apple after dinner last night.

She stared at herself for a long moment and began to cry, her lower lip wobbling.

This is what you look like when your thoughts eat you up alive, she realised.

••

"Vous ressemblez à un enfant fantôme, vous devez sortir de la maison!"
[You look like a ghost child, you need to get out of the house!]

And with those words, Lamees's mother pushed her out of the house and slammed the door shut in her face.

So, she went to the park. There were a few kids around by the swings and the slides and she avoided looking at them directly. She couldn't even look at children without thinking of the one growing inside of her. Pushing away the thought, she made her way towards the beaches by the corner.

Lamees had just settled onto an empty bench when she noticed a middle aged couple sitting on the bench next to hers. They seemed familiar somehow but she couldn't put her finger on it.

The woman's hair was a shade of light blonde and it was tied back into a quick, messy ponytail whereas the man's hair was the complete opposite, dark and ruffled like he hadn't bothered to comb it this morning. When the woman looked up and said something to the man beside her, he reached out a hand and stroked her arm gently, as if trying to soothe her. But it was the woman's eyes that had caught Lamees's attention. She had green eyes, that seemed so familiar...

The shape of them, the slight crinkles around the edges, the intensity...

Her heart stopped for a moment.

She looked away and shifted in her seat, not believing what, who she was seeing. She lingered in her seat only a moment longer when the woman's voice drifted to her.

"But was it something that we did wrong? Every time I think about it, it doesn't add up."

Lamees stood up and started walking away in the opposite direction, but not before she overheard the man's calm but concerned voice as he said, "I know. We didn't raise Gunner to be like that. He's always been a decent kid."

Lamees only paused for a heartbeat when she heard Gunner's name being mentioned, which confirmed her suspicions. These people were Gunner's parents.

She continued to walk away from them, her fists clenching and unclenching. Gunner had shown her a picture of him in his early teens with his two beaming parents, standing behind him. She'd only seen that picture once but she hadn't forgotten the pure joy on their faces at their only child.

And today, she'd seen that joy being absent and she let guilt pierce its claws deep into her soul. She felt responsible for what had happened. She was the one who'd caused all of this. Why should she be allowed even a moment of peace and happiness when she'd robbed others of it?

She had been so preoccupied with everything that was happening to her, that she didn't even stop to consider the other people that had been affected by the events that had unfolded. She wasn't the only one who'd been shocked at Gunner's arrest, who was wondering how these next months would pass without him there for her.

And it had all been her fault. If she had only stayed inside that one night, it would've changed everything.

Funny and cruel how everything really does amount to a single decision.

Her eyes burned at the weight of everything and she felt drained all of a sudden, like her body, the very bones, were exhausted. Spent. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a proper night's sleep.