Mikaal

33: Mikaal

Dalia sat staring in front of her, her hands holding onto the steering wheel, but her car remained stationary. She had started to leave Garden City Shopping Centre, but when she had nearly hit the car in front of her, she had realised that she probably wasn't in a state to drive, so she had pulled into a new parking spot in front of a tree. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed, sitting there in this cold winter afternoon that had turned gloomier as the day progressed - in stark contrast to how the day had begun in Matilda Bay. Her expression was blank, too stunned to even register what she was feeling.

'Maybe it's not him. Maybe I'm mistaken,' she thought to herself. Even though she was good at recognising voices, she wasn't super-human. And yet, if it wasn't Mikaal, then didn't that make the whole situation worse?

She needed to confirm somehow that the voicemail was really left by him... Perhaps call the number?

'God, why is this happening?' Dalia bowed her throbbing head, resting it on her steering wheel, her eyes squeezed shut as if hoping she might wake up from this nightmare. But her forehead could not ignore the cold material against her skin, and her hands could not ignore the rough feel of the stitches that held together the synthetic outer-layer.

'I need to know the truth. I have to do this, I have to do this,' she repeated in her mind like in the Little Engine children's book she had grown up with. As she heard these five words over and over that became a rhythm in her brain, Dalia mustered the energy to lift her head and reach over to her backpack.

Her hands shook as she rummaged for her phone, not in its usual place, but eventually, she felt the rubbery silicone case that protected it from accidental drops. She navigated through her settings for the option to make her number private, the tremors in her hands growing worse, matching the loud thud inside her chest. Her thumbs stalled when she was back on the home screen, one touching the bottom edge of her phone while her left hovered over the green-coloured phone icon.

'Just open the voicemail section. If I don't feel like calling, I don't have to do it now, but just open the section'. With the voice inside her rooting her on, Dalia momentarily mastered her anxiety, now finding herself staring at the unknown number at the very bottom of the list. But the sick feeling she had grappled with back in the Apple Store returned, her hands frozen, eager yet terrified of learning the truth.

"Get it over with Dalia! Maybe the number doesn't even work anymore. It was over a year ago. And if someone does pick up, they could think it's a wrong number." Her internal voice had found a way out into the chilly air that surrounded Dalia's face.

Without another thought, before she lost her nerve, she tapped the 'callback' button and carefully placed the phone against her ear.

The person on the other end picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?" the male voice said. "Hello? Hello?" A long pause ensued before a different tone asked, "Dalia?"

Dalia immediately hung up, throwing her phone on her lap as if it had suddenly grown too hot to touch. 'Oh my God, oh my God, it's him!' Her heart became erratic, pounding wildly at the thought that he had even said her name! Her stomach churned, the ill feeling reaching her throat. She shivered in spite of being in layers of clothing against the frosty atmosphere.

Dalia sat, hugging herself now, her eyes pooling, the grief running down her cheeks, her sobs drowned out by the heavy raindrops that pelted her car, the once silver clouds now angry and dark grey. To think that just a day ago, everything was 'normal', but in an instant, her world was now upside down. To think that less than twelve hours ago, she was sure of herself for the first time in a long time, but now, she didn't even know if she could trust her own mind.

Buzz... Buzz...

Dalia felt the continuous vibration of her phone in her lap. She ignored the phone-call at first as she wiped the tears from her face; she was inclined to just reject the call, her finger now on the power button.

'I can't keep sitting like this. I need to lay down,' she told herself internally, feeling dog-tired. 'Just see who it is,' her inner supporter harped up again as if trying to remove the mental obstacles that were keeping her immobile.

Dalia glanced down, noticing it was the Allergy Clinic. She sighed, reluctantly swiping on the display.

"Hello?" she said in a weak voice.

"Hello, is this Dalia?" a friendly voice greeted her.

"Yes."

"Hi, it's Michelle, from the Allergy Clinic. I just wanted to give you a courtesy call to explain the results you'll be getting in the mail soon."

"Oh, okay."

"We have some good news. From our tests, we've confirmed that you are not allergic to beef. We tested other types of meat as well such as lamb and chicken, but no adverse reactions were found. So it may be an isolated incident."

"Okay."

Michelle went on like a bulldozer. "We don't feel you need a follow-up appointment, but if you have another strange reaction, definitely come back in."

Dalia was quiet, half listening, half in her own mind. "Thank you," she managed to say before hanging up, feeling more worn out than before the call - in her current position, good news would have been that she was allergic.

Just as she was about to drop her phone back on her lap, it shook again in her hand, this time a short and sharp rhythm that mimicked a heartbeat, indicating it was a text.

When she saw Simon's name on her iPhone's display, something inside her snapped.

He had been lying to her all this time. She had asked him about Mikaal and he had kept the truth from her. Her best friend who she believed in, who knew about her highs and lows with Blake, had broken her trust.

Pure rage consumed Dalia as she gripped the steering wheel once again, her knuckles growing white. She was tired - tired of the secrets, tired of the lies. No matter what, she was getting to the bottom of this.

Dalia turned the key in the ignition, revelling in the purr of her engine coming out of her car's sports exhaust. The call from the Allergy Clinic was timely and ironic; while Michelle had confirmed that she was 'normal', Dalia was sure now more than ever that there was something wrong with her and she couldn't help wondering if all the strange things that had been happening were trying to allude to this fact.

Seeing Simon's unread message still on her phone also established another important thing - that the only person she could rely on was herself.

Dalia switched off her phone before losing herself in the drive heading south, her foot heavy on the accelerator, Hip-Hop music cranked up at full volume. When she got to Graham Farmer Freeway, she basked in the roar of her Lancer while she sped through the tunnel, her local doctor in her mind's eye, her course of action clear.

---

Hello!!!!!

It's getting to the super exciting end to the story :) I hope you're as excited as me reading it as I am writing it. 

Just letting you, if you have gotten this far, that soon, I will share a link to join my mailing list. Why would you want to join my mailing list?

*You'll be getting the opportunity to be one of my 'beta readers' and get advance copies of my entire book (current and future) - in exchange for honest reviews on Amazon/Goodreads/iBooks etc that help new people find me on those platforms

*You'll be the first to be notified of new book releases and promotions

*You'll get other free stuff that only insiders get like short stories or deleted scenes that didn't make the final edit

Let me know if this interests you!

-Noelle