Catastrophobic Viability

Chapter 9 // Pickle head

Azzahra's POV

I woke up to a snoring Humaira sleeping right next to me. Last nights events came flashing back.

We watched the movie "ouija". It was really scary. I only ate one slice Of pizza. Humaira finished the rest. I was expecting that of her. I'm trying to get in a diet anyways.

The hard wood floor sent shivers up my legs as I walked my way to the bathroom. When I came back to the room I see Humaira perched on top of the bed texting furiously on her phone.

It's a habit of hers to text each and every one of her friends when she wakes up.

I heard foot steps coming upstairs and heading towards this room. "What are you two doing! Come on, move, move, move! Guests are coming over! I need the house clean! Up you two! Wear something nice. They're coming at 4 pm sharp," Humaira's mom screamed out after sprinting down stairs.

"I have to go home. Tell your mom
That I'm leaving," I say to Humaira as I pack my cloth in my bag.

"Go jump off a cliff, you bastard. Now I have to clean the whole house my self and get tortured by my moms speeches."

I walked out of the room holding my bag in my hand."love you too, boo!"

Humaira POV

That bastard left my house so she didn't have to deal with the war downstairs. I lazily got off of my bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up. When I came back I changed into some traditionally Bengali cloth.

The day went on by me cleaning the house and getting around 20 to 25 speeches from my mother on how to act like a "real women" when I get married and how to "shut up" when she gives me the death glares.

The door bell rang and my father came jogging from the living room. "Asalamwalikum, how are you doing?" He spoke.

Lots of footsteps filled the entrance of the door as they all came barging in. 4 people came into the kitchen where me and my mom sat at the dining room.

"Asalamwalikum, How are you doing Fahima?" The older women out of the 4 spoke. I'm guessing she was the mother since she called my mom by her name.

I smiled at the other 3 ladies as they smiled back.

"waalaikumsalam, I'm fine, what about you? Oh my Allah! You lost so much weight from the last time I saw you," my mom says enthusiastically.

"I'm doing great alhamdulillah, and is this your daughter! She's gotten so tall, mashallah!"

"Asalamwalikum aunty," I greet the lady. She gave me a huge grin and the looked at my mom with a raised eyebrow.

"I like her already," the lady says to my mom. My mom and her randomly start talking about food and recipes.

It got really boring. So I decided to start a conversation with the three girls. "Hi, I'm Humaira."

They looked exactly alike except for their hair Color. The one at the far right had dark red hair. The middle one had brown hair and the last one had black hair with blue tips at the ends.

"I'm Warda, the oldest," the red head spoke.

"I'm Rona, the second oldest," the brown head spoke.

"And I'm Zartaj, the youngest," the one with the black hair spoke.

I kinda like that name, Zartaj. It reminds me of.....Zayad. Oh my Allah what is wrong with you Humaira. Stop thinking about him!

"Nice to meet you guys, um, let's go to my room. Follow me," as I start walking upstairs to my room leading them to my room.