Masked

《13》

•{the mask}•

She hated running, but sometimes she just wanted to do it so much, to keep doing it until she killed her lungs.

Her blurring vision made it hard to see where she was going, but the fear of colliding was only the last one of her worries then, because at that moment, all she wanted to do was escape. From everything, from him.

Why, why why why!! Why did he had to be- in- in front of me!! Why is all this happening to me! Ya Allah help!

A cry almost escaped her lips before she could reach the cold door to the washroom. She hated her mind sometimes, because at times when she wanted it to quiet down the most, it was the only thing in her that screamed. The tightening knot in her stomach felt like it would break any moment, she was afraid she would need to throw up.

She listened to what her body was telling her at last, and stumbled to the basin to throw up, but as hard as it could get, she couldn't throw up, no matter how much she tried. She couldn't understand what the problem was, what her body was trying to tell her, why her mind was screaming so much. The feeling of disgust was so strong one moment, but now it was just, gone. She didn't know where, she just couldn't feel it anymore.

She was stuck in the tangles of her thoughts, and now she didn't know what to do, except stare at her darkening reflection in the mirror.

Her own eyes stared back at her in horror, of what had become of her. How a mere human being who had caused a waterfall of emotions in her, had also caused her to sink in the fast current, and now she saw no way out.

And what it left was a wide eyed Asmah, with tears that once blurred her vision, now flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks.

She brushed her hands through her cheeks to wipe away the tears, in an effort to stop them, but it is a fact and everyone knows, that you can only stop the things that are in your control, right? It made her feel more pathetic that a single man who she had been admiring only a few days ago, now made her question every single one of the emotions that he had made her feel. She did not want to regret liking him, she did not want to regret giving a portion of her heart--a very small one--to someone whom she only knew so much, she did not want to regret ever knowing him, but it now seemed like she would need to do it soon.

Her heart screamed in denial, but her mind already knew the answers she pretended not to know about. 

Finally, she calmed herself down, when she felt a strong headache coming her way. She still had some more hours of work in front of her, so she had to control herself from crying too much. 

I'm tired, I don't want to feel like this. 

The voice inside her--that was her own--told her firmly, as she bent down to run her face with a few splashes of cold tap water . Then wiping it with a tissue from the adjacent stand, she redid her hijab, that had too, with her, been a witness of her fall today. She had come to the realization that day, as she proceeded to exit the bathroom stall, that she had never, since her first day, cried so much at work and felt so overwhelmingly tired, then how much she had today. 

We don't know anything for sure, if it really is Saalim or not, so let's just, leave it for now. I'm sure it's not him, but if it is, then may Allah subhanahu wa ta'alah help him with his issues, ameen.