Mine

chapter 8

My feet never felt heavier as I climbed up the stairs on the porch. Lead tied to my toes, threatening to pull me down face first any minute.

I took a moment standing in front of the door like a statue, gripping my shirt to ease out the nervous tremble in my hands. Though a statue would be an opposite description of what I actually felt.

The hair on my neck stood alert. My ears extra sensitive to any sound coming from inside the house. My hands unwilling to obey me and open the door.

Brushing the sweat off my forehead, I gripped the handle and turned it. Instantly grimacing as the door creaked too loud for my likeness.

I pushed my head inside first. No one. Silence greeted me back. Dim lights giving away only a little.

Confused I tip toed inside as if to make up for the noise earlier. I lost my hold on the door, grabbing on to the air as it slipped back in its place. Clicking shut.

I shut my eyes tightly. Ya Allah.

What's up with me!

Why am I playing this cat and mouse game.

It's not like I've committed a huge crime. Right?

Right?

My sub conscious decided this exact moment to go meditate in silence. Leaving me stranded to whatever awaited me ahead.

Walking further inside, I scrutized mamma's door on the far end which was closed. Are they waiting for me inside. What if they are wondering what to do with me now that I went against their advice and got a job.

And incase they decided to kick me out of the house and send me back to Pakistan, who would I stay there with?

A pang of hurt clutched at my chest and I sucked the air in deeply to prevent my grandma's memories from engulfing me.

I'll be fine.

Yes.

"They'd been called back."

I shriek out jumping away from the source of the sound and fell flat on my butt.

Eyes wide as soccers I eyed the back of the couch for what laid on the other side.

Mystified I got my footing back and a sleeping frame of Hayden came in view.

Well...not- sleeping frame.

Was he here the entire time?

He had his arm shielding his eyes. The sleeve of the same shirt from earlier rolled back up in rough manner as the rest of the shirt scrunched up to accommodate the position of his bicep.

"...an emergency I assume."

I took a step back.

Definitely not asleep.

How did he know it's me? What if-

-wait. They aren't home?

The air rushed back in my lungs easy as I gave their bedroom door another look.

No light from under the doorframe.

He was right.

However who's to say that I'm entirely out of trouble? I have to face them in the morning one way or another.

I walked up to the staircase, holding the railing for support.

No matter how much I delay it, he's definitely gonna tell on me. The way he stormed out of the restaurant-

Or maybe...he softened up and decided not to tell them?

I looked back at his stilled form. He still hadn't moved his arm out of his face. Why was he all calm and contained?

Was it calm before a storm?

I felt my subconscious roll her eyes at my dramatics.

Where is the courage I felt at the restaurant?

Why so cowardly now!

Maybe he just changed his min-

"Don't you think I've changed my mind though."

I blinked. Is he reading my mind or did I say it out loud?

Removing his arm, he pushed himself up. The back of the collar getting tugged at from the hem of his shirt, giving his unruly curles above his exposed neck extra tired look.

I held my breath, waiting for his glare....and waited.

His joints snapped and popped as he got out of the couch groaning. Standing tall.

Pocketing his one hand in his losely hanging pants, he bent over to grab cellphone from the table, making his wrinkled shirt to move up, exposing his flawless skin.

I stole my eyes abruptly. Eager to rush up the stairs but my feet were firmly rooted to the ground. Unwavering. As if all my energy had decided to pool around my feet once again to betray my commands.

The air hit me anew carrying a familiar scent as he made his way towards me.

No no no.

Did he know I sa-

Is he mad?

Why is he coming this wa-

His bare feet came into my view. Nonchalant. Proud. Bold.

How could someone's feet make such statements about their character.

Hearing ringing in my own ears in silence, I was stoned. In place. Not at all ready for his anger right now. Maybe he decided to take it out on me now that mamma was gon-

"Move!"

I jumped scurrying out of the way. Air knocked out of my body. My feet moving on their own accord like some foolish weightless ping-pong ball. All the stubbornness gone at once.

Why did he have to be such a jerk!

Can't he talk to me nicely for once?

Incase he found my startled behavior amusing, he didn't comment. For I never really found his eyes on me since I walked in through the door. It stayed that way until I heard his bedroom door clicking shut upstairs.

Bringing back the anxiety for tomorrow morning.

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Yes I'm back. Getting a hang of writing again. And planning to write consistently from here onward.