Once Upon A Muslim

Semi-Chapter 8 | Nick | The Tables Have Turned

I know, I know. This was supposed to come out on like... Thursday or something. I'm sorry. I didn't have the laptop for a while and I was just focusing on preparations for school (which, surprisingly, is going fine!). I've heard that students get a ton of homework there, so I just wanna give you a heads up the next time I make you wait for a century-long update. I talk too much. Enjoy. :)

***

"She's a... Mozlem?" Blake asks with disbelief. He takes a swig of the Coke in his hand and then sets it on the counter. "And you're telling me this now?"

I shrug. "It doesn't matter, actually," I mutter bitterly. After what happened a few weeks ago, I don't really care about her. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. "You know, she doesn't believe me. I don't want to do this crappy job. But I have to. Just because I've been in the wrong place at the wrong time." I drum my fingers on my knees while Blake paces the room, deep in thought.

He shrugs. "You know, I don't think it matters. Mozlem or not, she's still our target. It doesn't really change our situation." He clenches his jaw. "But Boss is going to be... amused. Remember what he said the other day? He never got the chance to play with them. I think he's high on something." He mutters the last part, pondering over the fact whether his theory might be correct. Boss does smoke once in a while, but I've noticed he's been avoiding alcoholic drinks. He said that if he doesn't want to be noticed by the cops, he might as well be sober.

I've expected junior year to go like this: counting down the days until I'm a senior, the last year of high school, the last year of enduring this short, aggravating, stressful, and maybe the best period in our lives. But instead of burying my nose in textbooks, I always have to come up with excuses as to why I can't be at home with Maddie and Caleb. Dad is always busy at the hospital, so he expects me to take care of them. It seems it's impossible to do that when I have these risky tasks on my hands.

It's like I'm avoiding my family to protect them; ever since that night in the dark alley way, I knew that I had to keep my family's identity safe, in case I'd have the courage to just walk out on Boss. I don't remember much; just Boss, Karl, and Michael abusing this little kid. I felt bad for him, so that's when I stepped in to help him. I have to work for Boss until I graduate high school, in exchange to let the kid go. To this day, I don't know what he did, but it seemed he really made Boss enraged. It takes so little to do that, which I can relate to.

"Maybe he is," I agree. After all, he is a druggie like the rest of us used to be. I was on drugs last year in sophomore year since I was still grieving about my mom's death, although she died when I was almost fifteen - three years. Drugs distracted me. They deviated my thoughts from the murky places in my mind. But it also impacted my life in a huge way. My grades started to decline yet again. I isolated myself from everyone else; even my own family.

I slipped into depression.

"Dude, you've got to stop doing that," Blake says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

I blink a few times, a little disoriented. "What?"

"You're zoning out again," he says. "Are you thinking about her again?"

I nod. "Are you thinking about him?" I ask, referring to his deceased brother Brian. He doesn't acknowledge my question. He just looks away, a faraway look in his eyes. The conversation we had the other day about Brian comes flooding back to my mind. It seems that he's still coping with his death.

Brian died last year. At school, there was a shooting. Only five students were injured, while one was pronounced dead. That was Brian. He was a senior. Everybody admired him and liked him. It affected not only those who were close to Brian, but pretty much the whole school. It took us a month to get back on track. Although there were several hundred students in school the day of the shooting, each and every single one of them was, in one way or another, heartbroken. It seems impossible that one person can do such a thing; that's because Brian liked doing impossible things.