The thing with people who've been through hell in this spinning folly is that they know the ramifications of showing others their charred side and letting them in only to have it mauled over and over again to the point where it stops bothering anymore. The pain would still be there. The agony would still be intact. But it just simply doesn't bother anymore because it has become a constant. It's like the part of your life that you just can't evade no matter how hard you try. It's going to stay there, eating away at you until there's nothing to eat anymore.
So they just bottle themselves up and start living a lifeless life, pretending that they are very much happy and content with their lives when in fact they are dying a slow death from inside.
And this is exactly why Azlan was bringing his photographic skills into use by the lake at 3 o'clock in the morning. To muffle up the battered memories of past that would never stop nagging him. It was his second coping mechanism after playing guitar since those skills were simply not to be applied in a place like this where walls were so thin.
It had only been one day since he'd met Safa and he was already jealous of her. Of her liveliness. Of her childishness. Of how people like her could so easily lead their lives without any guilt after ruining ample others'.
And then there were people like him who could never go back to their old lives even when they did nothing wrong. He missed that jovial Azlan in him that got lost the day...
And now he envied Safa for the way she was so light-hearted with no problem at all. And so his promise to himself of torturing her strengthened.
But what he didn't know was in the way of hurting her he was only going to hurt himself because not everything goes according to the way we plan, or does it?
******
Once the meeting was over, Safa flopped beside Asmara in the staff room.
"Well, I guess he's not that bad," she piqued as she assembled her notes for the next class.
Apparently, Azlan had decided to build one more school in the valley because many girls were still deprived of education because their parents were simply not 'liberal' enough to let them study in the same school as those of boys'.
"No education is better than co-education!" was their only agenda.
"I told ya. He's just so kind and dreamy..."
"He's still an A-hole, tho," she intervened before Asmara could complete her sentence.
"Language, Safa!"
"What? I didn't say the whole word." She slumped her shoulders.
"Potato Potaato!" Asmara rolled her eyes.
"You know it feels like you have an eye problem when you do that irksome eye-roll. I sometimes get scared that your eyeballs are gonna roll back to your head and I'll have to waste my precious time to call the ambulance."
"Oh My Lord! You're so evil." She feigned to be hurt.
"That I am." She smiled plastic.
"Azlan serves you right."
"Don't even take that excrement's name in front of me," she snapped. "Also, stop luring after him You're engaged, ffs! At least show some modesty." She threw her hands up in air.
"So? Does that mean my heart doesn't beat anymore?" She hawed.
"Astaghfirullah! (a term used for seeking forgiveness from Almighty) Dunno what I'm gonna do with you." Safa convulsed her head with tsk before strolling out of the room.
******
"What are you doing?"
Meticulously, Safa was completely absorbed in the lecture she was delivering from where she was standing behind the dice when Azlan broke her tempo. He was on a school survey.
Safa paused as her eyes fell on him, impeccably dressed in his grey high-neck sweater paired with black slacks.
"Dancing. Wanna join?" She chirped in vexation.
The entire class boomed with laughter and she winked at the students.
Azlan shot them a glance before asking Safa to come out of the room. She obliged.
"What is it now? Did my coffee fall on you itself?" She asked as she folded her arms on her small chest.
"What is this?" Azlan inquired as he snatched the novel from her hands, his teeth gnashed.
"Oh this. This is what we call a book basically. Or you can also call it a novel if you want. It's actually how authors convey..."
"Why the hell are you teaching them 'forty rules of love' when I assigned 'Olive Twist' for 2nd grade? He cut her off, his voice above a notch. "I don't want them reading romance at this age. I mean look at the name. What is this rubbish, hun? It even elaborates all the rules and stuff. And God, there are forty of them! I cannot even imagine the amount of venom you must have filled their innocent brains with with just the first one. Let alone all forty."
"Are you even for real?" Safa stared at him with incredulity perceptible in her orbs. "No, I mean, are you high? 'Cause if so, give a bit of whatever you're using to me too. I need a break from life.
"What do you mean?" He asked, perplexed as he furrowed his brows together.
"Share your drugs with me, duh. You're so naïve, aren't you?" She said as if it was quite obvious and Azlan heaved an exasperated sigh.
"I'm talking about the book, dammit."
"Oh! Sorry." She bit her tongue and he looked at her antics. "The book is about Sufism and not some cheap romance that melon inside your head assumed."
Neglecting the pun, he continued. "Alright, even if it is, I don't want them to read it."
"Why not?" She scrunched her brows.
"Because I want them to read Oliver Twist." He was clearly getting annoyed and she was loving it.
"But I want to teach forty rules of love." Deal with it, you blasphemous mister/miser.
"No one has ever said 'no' to me." He balled his hands into strong fists as the vein on his forehead plopped.
"Yeah, well, they all say the same thing," she sang as she rolled her head.
"Who?" He questioned in confusion.
"You know... those 'I'm a badboy. I can turn your entire world upside down' soap operas' dramatic male leads. Sorry to burst your bubble, 'badboy', but no girl will ever fall for these theatrics because fictional sassy arrogant men>>>real life ones," she expounded through the gestures of her hands and he peered at her as if he doubted her sanity.
"A) You're crazy. And, B) It's my school and things go by my rules here. Understand?" He announced with finality as he thrust the book back in her hands before heading towards the next class and she muttered something like. "Yeah alright, satan."
******
Two updates in a day! I'm sorry, I'm high on the amount of work load I have.
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House of Ashes [Complete]
Espiritual•Safa Hayat• Her flounders against the world haven't been known to anyone. Neither do the scars that run deep inside the abyss of her frail soul. She's been hurt. Brutally. Both, physically and mentally. The physical scars, however, fade with time...