Mistaken Perception

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Abti, is green tea ok?" asked Aisha.

They were both up early. Her uncle had been with them for two days so far. Life had gotten a lot less stressful ever since he arrived, though Aisha didn't want to admit it.

"Green tea? Seriously? Your offering green tea to an old Somali man?" laughed her uncle coming to join her in the kitchen.

"It's healthier to go green," rebuked Aisha, pulling her curls into a high ponytail and taking a seat on the countertop.

She watched as he made his way around the kitchen, making some Somali shax. As the moment of silence stretched gently between them, Aisha wondered what her life would be like today if she had given into her uncle those many months ago. 

What kind of person would she be if she had let him cuddle her and take care of the big problems? Had she been too stubborn to refuse help? Would a legal battle not be taking place if she had allowed her Abti to be their guardian?

 There were so many questions and doubts swirling in her head, she was ready to just give everything up.

 Yet, she couldn't. She could never.

"How have you been, darling?" asked her uncle in a soft voice. They had gotten no real-time to catch up. Partly it was her fault. She hadn't wanted him to ask the hard questions.

"Honestly... I think I'm realizing that I'm not ok," Aisha replied sliding down to grab the cup in his outstretched hand.

He looked at her, studying her face quietly.

And she knew he could see it all. The stress, the loss, the worry, the pain, all of it.

"What can I do?" he asked.

And the readiness with which he asked, the fact he wasn't showing resentment or anger at her stubbornness, made her pause. How could he look past it all? How could he just be ready like that? Before she even realized the floodgates had opened.

The tears at first started as a trickle, twin trails appearing on her face. She touched them, shocked at first. Then more tears spilled, one after the other.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered putting his mug down and taking hers as well. And that small gesture of care was all it took for the wall protecting her tears to break loose. Within seconds she was crying into her uncle's shirt while he gently held her and told her everything would be ok.

She didn't know how long she cried; she didn't know if her cries were loud enough to wake her siblings. For once, her focus wasn't on anyone but herself. So, she held tightly and let someone else soothe her and tell her that everything would be all right. She let someone else say that she didn't have to be strong. She let it all out, not holding back.

She cried for herself. She cried for her younger siblings. She cried because of all the hardships that seemed to follow each other. One after the other with such speed. She cried because she felt lost and alone.

Her wails were loud enough to wake the dead, yet she couldn't hear it. Her pain was enough to burn another, yet she had contained it.

She had smothered it into her belly. And with it, she had slowly been killing herself, her dreams, hopes, life. 

She didn't know when it happened, but she found herself snuggled into the couch. A blanket was tucked around her, and a cool compress was on her head. Groggily, Aisha pushed herself into a sitting position. She felt drained, but light as well. She didn't want to see her face. She knew it wouldn't be pretty.