Within the Sins

٩ Relief After Endurance

فرأيتُ في عينيكِ أحلام العُمر.

The lack of water is an issue in Jordan. Unlike its bordering countries, the land here is dry and lacks a fixed, purposeful body of water. Each household has such a limited amount to the point where, if it finishes, the family cannot do anything but wait a few days to a week for their pipelines to fill their tanks with water again. Depending on which part of the country one lives in is what determines which day they are granted water.

Where Yazid lives, people receive it every Tuesday and Thursday. The only time he stays over Nader and Majed's apartment is when he needs to sleep and take a shower, but the last time he showered was almost seven days ago because the water had finished, and he has had no choice but to wait until today to finally have water sent to his friends' apartment.

After he washes himself and feels refreshed, Yazid stands in front of a cracked, white sink. Gazing at the mirror in front of him, he examines his eyes and sees that they are reddening. With time, the depth of the color is becoming immeasurable. Under his eyes, there is still dark circles, and his eyelids are droopy as always. It looks as if he is sucking his cheeks into his mouth—a similarity he now has with his very own dealer. Overall, he feels unattractive, and it is only becoming more obvious that he is an addict.

What woman will ever want him now? In fact, does anyone even want him in his or her life? Clearly not his family. Surely not any person he has ever attempted to befriend beside Nader, Majed, and Sharif. And definitely not any girl he has ever been interested in. He motions his head before turning around and picking up the clothes that he is borrowing from Nader, again. He pulls a black T-shirt over his head and fixes its hem, along with slim, black jeans and a beaded necklace around his neck. Quickly, he throws a small towel over his head and runs it through his hair. Walking out of the narrow bathroom, he closes the squeaky door behind him and notices Nader sleeping on the couch in the living room.

"Come here," Majed says.

Yazid quietly walks over to the weak bed as not to wake Nader up and takes a seat at the end of it, making eye contact with Majed.

Nader usually sleeps in the bedroom while Majed's bed is placed in the living room.

Majed sits up and places his legs on the ground. He reaches a black bag and pushes it toward his friend. "I dissolved the powder in water and drew the solution into the syringe for you. You just have to stick it in. Just a little gift from me to you. I noticed how you've been extremely anxious sometimes, and then you cry at other times. The fear and the itchiness you get. . .the sadness—the withdrawals—they're obvious. I understand it's hard, so treat yourself."

Yazid pulls the bag with his hand and takes what rests inside it which is a filled syringe, an opened bottle of water, a small spoon, and a metal can of white powder. He glimpses at his friend before looking back at the bag. Tears fill his eyes as he looks back at Majed, for he knows that he must have sacrificed his own yearning by spending his money on him. "Shukran," he whispers, thanking him. He sniffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You will never understand."

"I do, Yazid. I do understand. I was kicked out of my house too. It's been years since I've seen my parents and brothers. They don't care at all either, so I get it. I'm not used to anything yet, but maybe we'll be fine one day. We were young when we were fooled into this addiction by Moutassem, so don't be hard on yourself."

Wiping his tears away, Yazid turns his head to settle his gaze on Majed. He looks just like Yazid and Moutassem do—red, droopy eyes, messy hair, dried lips. He is starting to lose a substantial amount of weight, too.

He picks up the needle and stands up, walking to his usual seat. He drops into it, making sure he is in a comfortable position before pulling his arm out and inserting the needle in the crook of his elbow. The thoughts that have been haunting his mind are suddenly put aside; there's no more what-ifs about his parents' divorce, no more how comes about Moutassem's betrayal. The guilt behind Sharif's death diminishes away from his conscience. Aseel finally lets him hold her tightly. He sees hearts and kisses after he closes his eyes, gold and silver, diamonds and gems, hills and mountains. He sees birds and airplanes, grins and laughs, beauty and bewilderment, and, most importantly, he feels joy eat at his heart. The joy slowly grows out to his chest, abdomen, and arms. He runs his hands up and down the couch. His lips twitch, and he chuckles in delight.

What a true best friend this needle is.