The Potato Nation

5: Tragedy

Oh look, an early update! Applaud for me xD I hope you guys like this chapter. I am actually satisfied with it but I can't wait to hear your feedback. So don't hesitate to leave a comment ;)

IMPORTANT: akhi is a arabic word which means brother (you'll find it in this chapter) also, Ammi is an Urdu word for mother. (this was in previous chapter but I forgot to tell you guys. it is kinda obvious tho so no worries)

Enjoy! :)

5: Tragedy

Farrah Adam's life is the most accurate example of a tragedy right now. Her arms are folded across her stomach, squeezing it, in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. She knows that the action is utterly ridiculous but then, life has never really made sense. 

Her elbow rests on the car handle and she sighs, her heart constricting even more as she does - as she stares at the houses and trees pass by in a blur. The scenery, she muses, has turned in to lines of colour; as if someone has fast-forwarded a film. And life, if fast forwarded, is exactly like that, a blur of colours; flecks of black and white and a little bit of both. 

Perhaps if she would have compared life to the scenery outside in pure daylight, the picture would have been more bright because right now, she sees more black than she sees white and for some reason, it makes her feel even more depressed than ever. 

"I thought girls spoke all the time," Her brother says finally. 

The sound irritates her as soon as it comes because she was just fine before, soaking in the silence and the myriad of thoughts cramming up in her mind. 

"Well, I don't." Her reply is short and curt, making her sound more aloof than she actually wants to be. But she is tired and the night has been a tragic experience. She deserves to be moody and irritable. 

"You used to speak a lot before," He points out. 

Her brother is possibly the most naive person in the world. His words make Farrah feel unnoticed and unhappy because truth to be told, she has never spoken much. Her brother couldn't even be bothered to notice that. 

"I never spoke much, akhi," She says, ignoring the lump in her throat and the feel of her heart breaking in to little pieces. 

"Really?" Her brother glances at her from the corner of his eye, surprised, "Why do I remember otherwise, then?" 

"Because you are a shitty brother?" She suggests snappily. 

He has the manners to look ashamed. Farrah watches in fascination as his fingers tighten around the steering wheel and his shoulders stiffen. As far as she knows, he has always reacted to confrontation this way. 

"I am sorry, sissy," He sighs. "I know I haven't been around much." 

She nods a little too enthusiastically, "Yes!" 

An amused smile touches his lips and he shakes his head, his expression affectionate. "I want you to know, though, that if you need anyone, I'll always be there for you." 

"Can't we skip the sappy part, brother?" She asks, her tone light. She doesn't want to carry on the conversation anymore. She doesn't want to discuss how her brother can never get her or how anyone can never get her because her thoughts are so far gone from normal that there's no turning back. 

He chuckles, obviously glad that the tension has broken, "Weren't you the one who forced me to sit through all those emotional chick flicks when we were fourteen? You always loved the sappy part."