Mikaal

43: Mikaal

'What can you do to make your time with your family more enjoyable for you?'

As Dalia stepped through the door of her family home, Ardelle's words repeated in her head like the chorus of a song. She filed the thought in the 'for later' tray of her mind and walked into their living/dining/kitchen area, focussing her eyes straight ahead.

"Don't forget to wash your hands before you touch anything in my kitchen!"

Dalia strode with the speed of a steam train straight to the hallway that led to her room. When she got to her door, she stared at the off-white glossy paint, fighting the guilt she felt at barely giving her mother an acknowledging nod. But like a broken record, she knew to respond meant to invite a squabble... No, she made the right decision.

Dalia took a couple of steps into her room but stopped, her eyebrows furrowed. Was there something she was forgetting? Something she was meant to do?

"Hey Siri, open my reminders."

A quick glance revealed naught. She blinked, feeling a nagging thought prodding and teasing the tip of her mind. She finally sighed out loud, accepting defeat.

"I'll remember when it's important," she consoled herself.

Dalia dropped her backpack on the floor, shut the door behind her, then threw herself on her bed. Dinner could wait. She just needed a moment.

She snuggled up to her pillow, closed her eyes and breathed slowly, in and out, exhaling away the tension from hearing her mother's voice. She turned over to her other side, trying to consciously smooth away the frown she could feel forming again on her face.

'Maybe Ardelle's right,' she thought. It can't be healthy to feel stressed just from hearing your mother speak. But what was the solution?

Dalia rolled over again, her iPhone still in her hands. She needed a distraction. She navigated to the home screen, about to open her 'Social Media' folder, then remembered. She stared at the display blankly, boredom dripping off her face before her eyes rested on the Phone app. She glanced away at first but her gaze returned.

"Why not?" she said aloud with a shrug and opened the voicemail section. She hadn't listened to Mikaal's voice message since that day at the Apple Store. But since she'd had two weeks to get over the initial shock, laying there now, her phone cradled in her hands, she felt a pull to listen to it again.

"Hey Dalia, it's me... I know it's late; it's kind of on purpose that I'm calling you now when I assume you're already asleep... Not because I'm worried about what you'll think about what I'm about to tell you..."

As Dalia listened all the way to the end, a sense of deja vu overcame her. Unexpectedly, images flashed in her mind as if being in this position, head on her pillow, hearing his voice, had conjured a forgotten experience.

Dalia gasped as the memory came flooding back to her, the sense of familiarity even more vivid, the strong emotions filling her up, making her feel whole.

She had done this before, laying on her side, listening to his voice before she drifted off to sleep. It had not been once—it had been every night, without fail, for God knows how long. Like a lullaby, a sleeping pill that had turned into a drug, his loving confession had lulled her to sleep for so many nights.

Dalia's eyes grew wide. "His voice!" It seemed so obvious now, why his voice was so familiar that day he approached her at San Churros—it wasn't just because she had already known him. She remembered now, how the voicemail had been a turning point in their relationship, moving them from friendship into more. But the sphere of her recollections ended there.

Tears collected in Dalia's eyes as the feelings of love and loss overwhelmed her. 'Where had it gone wrong?' she asked herself for the second time. 'What did you do?'

Dalia dropped her phone in the small gap between her pillows and with the corners of her pillowcase, she dried her face from the droplets that had managed their escape.

Knock, knock.

She ignored the light rap on her door, burying her face further into her pillow.

"Dalia... We're waiting for you to start dinner..." Daveth's voice trailed off before he tapped on her door with slightly more force.

Dalia's eyes shot open. 'Really? Now a hunger strike?' Her jawline hardened as she rolled onto her back and stared at her plain white ceiling—no glow-in-the-dark solar system. She sat up in her bed and looked at her walls that looked depressingly clinical—no vibrant coloured paintings. Was this her or was this them? Who was she anyway?

Dalia ignored Daveth's third attempt to coax her out. If she left this room, it would be on her terms.

'What can you do to make your time with your family more enjoyable for you?'

Dalia's eyes lit up as a sly smile slithered onto her face. "Hey Siri, play some Hip Hop music," she said. As the music from her phone fired up her mood, she got up and located her bluetooth speakers, switching them on and turning them up full blast. It was amazing what such a small cylindrical object the size of a can of coke could produce, the bass bouncing off her walls, the vibrations pulsing through her body.

Dalia stepped out of her room, a bounce in her step, excitement building as she headed to the dining table. Tupac Shakur continued to spit his hard-hitting verses through the crack in her door.

"You should try to have some fun with the situation," Ardelle had said, and now, she knew exactly what to do.

---

Hey everyone

Yay, this is probably the earliest that I've ever released a piece. I must say, I'm pretty proud of myself considering what a crazy busy week I've had *phew*

I won't say too much more except, please keep the votes coming! They keep me motivated and fired up to write more.

I'm going to get back to writing now...until next time.

-Noelle