45 Phone Calls

#2nd phone call

A couple of days had passed, all I did was stay in my room reading or sleeping. My mother barged in whenever she wanted which irked the life out of me.

That day I awoke at 11am sharp when my mom barged in, a deep frown was between her brows and her arms were akimbo. 'Amal! You can't keep sleeping until the sun shines out of your bottom! Get up!'

I watched her leave before getting up and closing my room door myself. It was not worth losing my control over my anger although it was tempting.

I laid back down on my bed after locking the door and took my phone from beneath my pillow that had a silky purple cover. I disliked purple for some reason.

I widened my eyes when I saw 5 missed calls and 3 unread messages all from that same darn boy.

I expected the messages to be from him too but it was from Riley, a guy that I had attended high school with but could never bring myself to like more than a friend.

'Hey...'-message 1
'Can we meet up today? I have to show you something...'-message 2
'If not I totally understand but if you decide to come, meet me at Marcels by 2pm...'-message 3

I knew for sure that I would not show up because I wanted nothing to do with him but when I heard my mother shouting at me, requesting that I get up, I knew for sure that I would show up.

After cleaning my room and showering, I offered my Dhuhr prayer to Allah and requested that He please accept my prayer before slipping a black skinny jeans and Adidas sweater on along with my white converse and black hijab.

Grabbing my bag from my beanbag that I rarely used, I walked downstairs and went to the backyard knowing that I would find my mom tending to her vegetables.

'Ummi can I go out? I won't be long.'

She stood upright and looked at my appearance before scrunching her nose up. 'Where to? With who? Is it that boy that keeps calling? Amal who is that boy?

I frowned and said,'I don't even know that boy Ummi, and he lives in Pakistan.'

She stared at me, trying to tell whether I was lying or not before she nodded and grumbled,'Be back before Maghrib.'

'Shukran and salaam,' I said and practically ran before she could change her mind and tell me to stay.

Walking out of Bergvliet, I had to pass the high school and Dr.Boomslang, which was on the opposite side of the road in order to get to the mall.

I stared at the school thinking about my own high school experience. I disliked high school, I knew that most teenagers did but high school contributed to my depression.

I've always been complimented on my gray eyes and my light brown hair but people made fun of my ears which were sharp-like pixie-like shaped ears, of my small breast which was mainly the girls when we had to change for PE and most of all, my teeth but thankfully Abbi had gotten my braces in grade 9 and they're straight now.

That did not change the way I feel about myself. I still continued to dislike who I was even after much sessions with my psychologist. At one point Ummi suggested that my depression was caused by my weak Iman then she said that it was all in the head and that I could overcome it if I changed my mindset but my Abbi, he understood. He was patient with me but recently I kept to myself because I was mad at myself for allowing my family to rule my life. I was a minor and I had to respect my parents and elders at all times but why was it difficult for them to sometimes admit that they were wrong?