SHARING THE CREDIT ✓

UNO

1 // JUICIO = JUDGEMENT

Farah hates disappearances.

she, the one who never disappears and stays constant in people's lives decides to follow her mother today. the untroubled, older woman who's looked after her all her life is strolling through streets, purse pressed to her side. Farah just wants to get to the bottom of her mothers disappearances, figure out where she sneaks off to at the start of the day. she leaves with her purse and comes back with it, smiling.

inquisitive Farah was honestly expecting a young, devoting boyfriend or meeting up with friends for a cup of coffee. she was expecting something harmless. what Farah wasn't expecting was her mother behind a silver cashier, hair pushed into a plastic bag and flour on her cheeks as she serves clients.

her mother has been disappearing to work in a bakery?

Farah furrows her brows as she watches from the outside window, unsure how to feel or what to do. she watches her hard working mother serve quickly, smile at customers and pull on plastic gloves like its second nature. it isn't just her first day, Farah can tell. before she knows it, she's walking into the bakery with her blatant boots as the ring indicates someone has entered.

"i thought you didn't have a job." uneasy Farah remarks, first thing blurting out of her mouth as she approaches the cashier desk. she becomes preoccupied by the scent of the bakery she's never visited, torrid, crumbly foods fill her nose as she looks around. she wishes her office smelt so nicely. Farah's appreciative of the lack of people so she can address her mother, one to one.

"i don't-" her mother starts, eyes enlarging at the sight of her daughter. neither of them were expecting their day to go like this. "i mean... i do." she catches her own lie.

"you're lying to my face right now." Farah comments. she steps back, hand moving away from the till. she wants her mother to see how betrayed she feels, how she's peeved she had to find out this way. why was she hiding a job from her? "why couldn't you just tell me the truth?" she meets the robust gaze of identical eyes back at her.

the same eyes that fill with tenderness when they eat dinner, disappointment when her children don't listen, proudness when Farah and her brother came home with grades- whatever they were and hope when she wakes up everyday. brown eyes that feel homely.

Farah has had her fair share of homelike, brown eyes.

Farah's mother can't help but snap at her youngest child. she looks over her shoulder, avoiding the prying looks of her colleagues. "don't make a scene Farah. you're not a child." her frown mirrors the young lady.

Farah is blubbering with her words. she can't get out what she wants to say. "you know how hard it is for me to provide for all of us, how hard it is for me and Jin to make money..." the truth is, the enrage and irritation are overlapping feelings of sadness and letdown. her and her brother struggle to make enough money for bills etc.

"so you've been using all our money?"

Farah's mother is fed up with the conversation. it's understandable due to her daughter jumping to conclusions first thing in the morning. "that's not it." she shakes her head. "you don't even know the half of it." she slams her hand on the marble till.

Farah can't even look at her mother as she decides to walk away, not saying anything else. they'll have to talk when she comes home, when she's cooled off and in a better mindset. she's aware she let her anger get to her so she takes out a cigarette.

dodging past people, she runs her hands through her ebony hair and closes her eyes briefly. the scent of nicotine is all she feels, inhaling and exhaling the smoke as she smokes her way through problems and society.