The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Tap

My lips part as breath of shock escapes me. My chest drums in panic stricken beats, gushing blood through my veins and down to my gut causing a riptide of nausea to consume me. My breaths come out in pants as I wait for him to correct his words, to say he was joking, and that he has. That he converted a year ago, and that he's already told his parents and that his mum didn't disown him. I wait for him to speak, and when he doesn't my heart rate slows down to single agonizing blows against my ribs at a time.

He lied, is all I can think. He's a liar and I'm a gullible idiot.

A tear trickles down my cheek, but I don't let it hang from my chin or dribble onto the ground. I wipe it away, and shut the balcony door. And as I do, I hear "shit" spoken loudly. Standing there for a few seconds, I see Noah lean over his banister, catching a glimpse of me before I slip away, with a trembling chin and foggy eyes. I retreat only as far as the cushions scattered around the coffee table, and once my foot meets one of them, I allow myself to sink to the ground.

I cry. I don't even bother to hold back on the emotions- I don't try to mask them and simply let myself feel. My body shakes with every echoing sob in the empty space, and trembles with every hurt full intake of breath. I cry until I feel the strain in my eyes and my lips become chapped with mix of tears and warm breath. I cry until I forget why I was crying, and until the only thing I feel is exhaustion.

The tears stop slowly, only one escaping every now and then. I feel like I could go on, but my body is physically telling me it can't, or maybe, it's not worth it. And so, I lean against the wall, with sore eyes, damp cheeks, an out of breath body and a headache. The apartment is completely silent- deafening, and this moment there's nothing I want more than to just leave it all, to leave everything as it is and just go home. However, the reality that I can't do that, has me breaking out into another tidal of tears.

It becomes a cycle. I remember and I cry and I feel pathetic. Like I'm weak and fragile and all alone. I cry until I'm satisfied that I'm numb, that there's nothing more I could possibly shed a tear over and that I'm done with feeling. I remain against the wall, Noah's words filling the silence that surrounds me.

'I haven't.'

He hasn't.

He never did.

He never was.

For the past half hour I racked my brain endlessly hoping to pick up some hint of a lie in his words, something that would make me believe otherwise. Anything to would lead me to believe that Noah is everything he says he is- that Noah isn't a liar. But there isn't. Even the way he said it, so simply, defensively and surely- he didn't stutter or waver because he told Ed the truth and led me to believe a lie. To live a lie.

I stand and head to the bathroom, to wash my face and drown my worries. I let the freezing water clench my skin and hide the tear stains. I never thought I'd cry over a boy, especially not Noah. I didn't think he'd ever hurt me; he seemed so genuine, so real and in hindsight to good to be true.

As I turn off the tap, I hear knocking on the front door and I stop where I am. Rooted and unstable. I just stand there as the knocks echo again, this time harder, louder and faster. I still don't reply, inching quietly back out into my hall to stand by the door. When the door knocks again, I flinch and hold my breath silently praying that whoever it is will go away. More specifically, hoping that Noah will go away. I know it's him, it has to be.

"Hana." He knocks again, though this time a bit softer than before.

"It's me," I don't care.

Can you open up?" Silence.

"Can we talk?" He knocks louder again, pleading at the same time.

"Hana, please. I just want to talk." I swallow as his voice becomes louder and words tumble quicker.