Jerusalem

Chapter 38 (Dealing)

"Is there anything that i can do or say that is going to make you stay?" I asked feeling weak in my knees, I barely could stand.

"No. Nothing." He said coldly , his eyes were sharp and determined.

Pride and arrogance were nothing to me now. Nothing matters more than stopping the guy standing in front of her as still as a stone. She was about to beg him not to leave, to beg him to stay. Only that arrow that flew from his eyes and pierced her heart, it stopped her on her ground. Youssef was leaving no matter what.

ONE MONTH later

"Mayar, come on...open the door.."Omar said, standing in the bedroom by the bathroom door.

"I'm fine" Mayar said back

"You are worrying me, besides there is no reason for you to be embarrassed or anything, we are doctors."

"Exactly, so I can take care of myself"

"Okay..just tell me your symptoms "

"I have stomach pain, nauseous feeling, low oxygenated and vomiting need."she said

"I love it when you talk medical to me, Dr. Mayar. It's like we have our own language."

"Actually, Dr. Mohammed there aren't a lot of languages. There is only one and it's called the language of the world."

"Wait.. I read this somewhere.. Don't tell me... (The Alchemist) by Paulo C. Right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then let me in"he said and the door opened slowly, she was holding a stick in her hand that had two red lines.

"You...you..pregnant " he said, more like a question. She stood there smiling, amazed, shocked. He hugged her and turned around with her, smiling a deep genuine, from ear to ear smile. This was the first time he had felt really happy since war or more specific since Ali's....

Omar dealt with Ali's death with joy. It's one of the methods that people follow to deal with their losses. They laugh the pain out, they pretend that nothing happened and that they're not hurting. They laugh, smile and hope to get through the day. They laugh till they no longer want to cry.

Omar was paralyzed as he couldn't help Youssef, He was never the one to talk, the only one he talked to was Ali and now .....

Salma sat on her desk at the office, she worked as a translator in one of the biggest companies. Her laptop was opened in front of her, she was supposed to reply for an Email. But her mind spaced out (that happened a lot ), she went down her memory lane and thought about that night, a month ago:

Her mom came to her and told her that someone wanted to see her. She came down from her room to see Youssef in front of her. She stared at him for a while and then took a step closer.

"I..killed..him. You have every right to think that. It's true. Hate me all you want. You couldn't possibly hate me than I already hate myself. I only ask for one thing....that you let me...be of any help to you. If you ever needed anything..."

"Thank you..Mr. Mohammed. I'm grateful. I'll let you know, if I needed something." Salma said fighting her tears back.

"Thank you for your time."he said, moving towards the door. He stopped for a second and put something on the table beside the door and left. Salma ran to see the envelop, inside she found a key that she recognized . It was the key of that dream house he built for her. A paper was also there. Opening it:

Salma,

Ali was my brother. And I can't describe him in words. He was angelic, simply the best person you'll ever meet in your life. Everyone loved him and I can't tell you how I feel about him. I despise this life because I don't want to live in a world where Ali Mahdi don't exist.

I want you to know that Ali was fighting for everything he believed in. Without him, this dream would've never come true. He fought for everything for everyone he loved. That's why he died taking a bullet for me. And I will live with that guilt for the rest of my life. But you need to know that he did it because it is who he is. It's not that he didn't love you enough. Because he did , he really loved you, he didn't stop talking about you.

So please don't be angry with him.

Youssef Mohammed

Her head snapped back to reality when her boss called out her name. She looked up and said five minutes. She stared back at her computer and continued working.

That's another method of dealing with loss. You drown yourself in working, keep being busy so you won't have time to think. Only when you're alone at night, your tears end up betraying you.

A smile escaped the corner of my lips when I booked the flight ticket to Jerusalem. Finally the name of our city was back on airlines. I took my bags passing through the gates, thinking about how everyone tried to stope from leaving, they said I'm crazy but they don't understand. I had to go, I had to come to you.

They call it madness but I call it love.