W A T T P A D F E A T U R E D
-Discontinued-
She's a mystery that he wants to solve, but how long before he realizes that she's a mystery she can't even solve herself.
...
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"She is the oak tree that grew from the cemetery; beauty who outshines the hell around her."
-Pierre Jeanty
❁ Song: Floating By Alina Baraz ft. Khalid ❁
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MY NERVES WERE on edge while I waited to be called into Jamal's office. I knew that talking to him would make me feel better, but I was scared to know his reaction. Would I disappoint him?
I have always tried to impress people, be it the ones very close to me or the ones who were complete strangers. After the rumours Piper had spread after my first suicide attempt, I became even more self-conscious, especially when it came to letting the people important to me down. I let Piper down and she took it in her own way, a horrible way of doing so but her own way regardless.
When it came to Jamal, I always felt at ease to tell him everything on my mind, even the dumbest. His job was to listen, and he did just that with a neutral mindset, but I looked up to him in a fatherly way too. I had already let down my own father, I did not want to let Jamal down either.
"Abigail," I hear a voice say, breaking me out of my entangled thoughts.
I look up and meet Jamal's eyes. They held a sincere look of apology and concern. I knew that at that moment, he had already read my files thoroughly, he knew what happened at the hospital and he was feeling sorry for me. He was disappointed.
Taking a deep breath and pulling my sweater tighter to my body, I followed him toward his quaint office. I took a seat on the couch opposite his desk as he typed away on his computer. I looked around the room in an effort to distract myself from my anxiety and noticed a new Islamic tapestry on the wall.
"That's new," I say.
He looks up and follows my gaze to the wall, a sad look in his eyes. "It was my father's. He passed away not too long ago, and I remember him bringing this home from his trip to Makkah when he performed the pilgrim Hajj."
I nod. "I'm sorry about your father."
"Thank you," he says bowing his head slightly
"What does that translate to?" I ask.
He reads me the Arabic scripture before translating it to me. "So, endure patiently, with beautiful patience."
I give a small smile. "Those are good words to live by."
"Wonderful words to live by."
Looking down at my fidgeting hands I feel tears push forward. "I wish I could endure the things I go through without having to disappoint everyone."
"You have not disappointed anyone, Abigail."
I meet his eyes. "I have," I say, my voice cracking.
