Redemption
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- Parts 10
"On Tuesdays I hate the world, I want to burn things down. I want to wipe off every single trace of human existence. Is it weird? Does it ever happen to you? Don't you ever want to track down every single person who has underestimated you and spit on their faces, tell them you're better than what they thought of you, and that you're better than they'd be in ten years time?" I sighed roughly, intentionally exaggerating my breaths.
"And on Wednesdays?" Mahi's almond eyes glistened with empathy, as she listened intently.
"On Wednesdays, I feel bad for feeling like that." I could feel the regret weighing down on me, clamped up in my chest.
*****
Safiya E. Yousufzai had had her hopes crushed and her dreams stepped on. In a world where people laid down their lives in the name of honor, she made the horrible mistake of freeing herself of customs and traditions. She was stupid and brave enough to take the fall...just to spiral into a void of misery. Now, she spent all her time in preparation...preparation for the havoc she was about to cause.
Everyday the moment her eyes flickered out of sleep, she'd toss a coin and decide: every day of Safiya's mediocre life was either a Tuesday or a Wednesday. She spent her time crawled up in an unknown corner of a barely known city. Coiled up, with her neck arched into a tasteless book. Occasionally, she'd take a peek of the outside world and then go back to her lies and fiction. But she had these thoughts in her head; thoughts that clawed at her.
She.Needed.Escape.
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#239 6-10-25 Then I asked the question that burned me even then: "How did you know it was real love?" His answer cut through years to find me now, on my knees in fire: "When death terrifies you... not because it'll hurt, but because you might die before seeing her again. Before holding her. Before telling her she was enough. Before she knows you loved her more than your own breath. When your last thought isn't 'I'm dying,' but 'she won't know how much I loved her.' That's when you've crossed every line." My Ayat... you were the only prayer I whispered without words... the only wound I loved wearing. I'm sorry. For everything I did. Everything I didn't do. For not loving you better... not loving you louder..." My voice fell apart. "And if there's something after this... I'll find you. Even there. Always." But the fear clawed deeper: She'll never know the small things, the secrets I kept buried. --- I love you, Zayyan!! her voice once screamed. And I smiled, stupid and young. Never let me go... she'd whispered into my neck. And I'd sworn I wouldn't. "You'll stay?" she murmured. "I'll always stay," I promised. But I'm breaking that promise now... I saw myself pluck a white flower, tucking it behind her ear, knuckles brushing her cheek. "You look like you walked out of a fucking poem," I'd whispered. She laughed. "You sound like a 90s hero." "I'd be one," I'd said, voice softer, "just for you."
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