Dear Kulsum✅

3.

"Huh?"

"I don't care what people say okay? People will always talk whether I do something good, something bad, or if I don't do anything at all, they'll talk. So why would I care about what they say when it will never change?" I asked and I could tell he believed me because the crease in between his brows disappeared.

He nodded, "People will never change"

"They won't ever. So it's best for one to never pay heed to their words"

He smiled fully this time, "I guess I just learnt something from the Ummu Kulsum Danbatta"

I rolled my eyes at the way he spoke as if he just learnt something from a celebrity, "I have to get back to work. I'll see you later new guy" I said taking another lane away from him as I had to get back to work, we both do.

Snapping out of the memories I looked at Dr. Aasim who had the corner of his lips tilted up slightly, he didn't say anything though, he just stared.

I looked away, not saying a word to him. I stayed that way until he was done eating his food, which he did pretty quickly by the way. And once he disposed the empty plate and the mug, we walked back to his office in silence.

Along the way, most of the female doctors and nurses looked at him and whispered amongst themselves. Some of them were blushing as they called out his name and he waves at them. He didn't notice it, or maybe he did and choose to ignore them but clearly those ladies were crushing on the man.

I looked away hiding under the hood of my hoodie, and at a point I walked a head of him when some nurses stopped him to say hi. Eventually he caught up with me just as I opened the door to his office. This time I didn't wait for him to ask me to sit as I made my way over to the couch I sat on earlier and made myself comfortable.

He sat opposite me just like earlier, except this time, he looked more determined, "So, Hafsat..."

I clenched my eyes shut. I really hate being addressed with that name especially in this situation, but I didn't let him see it as I hung my head low, making sure that the hood covers up my face entirely with my hands still tucked in the pockets.

"I heard you've seen quite a handful of doctors but none of them could help you" he said, his voice not sounding like all those other doctors that all sounded professional. He sounded like he was talking to someone he had known for a long period of time. At the thought, I internally scoffed crossing my legs. "Can you tell me what you're feeling right now? I'm sure there's something running in your head"

He was right. There were so many things running in my head but I wasn't going to open up to a stranger about it. No, I don't work that way.

He must've noticed that I was going to speak because he sighed, "Hafsat I can't help you if you don't speak to me"

Tell me something I don't know.

That's the exact same thing all the other doctors said. The only ones that had the privileged of me talking to them are the ones that I've harmed in a way or another simply because they crossed the boundaries they shouldn't cross. And even them too, I'm sure if they were given another chance they'd choose that I don't speak to them.

He stood up and walked away. I actually believed that he was giving up after minutes of me being silent. I leaned up but I didn't look at him, I stayed at a position that allows me to see the table between the couch I'm sitting on and the on me that he occupied. I heard the sound of shuffling but I didn't pay attention to it. After a few seconds, I watched as something was placed on the table in front of me.

A notepad and a pen.

I still didn't look at him even when he sat back on the couch opposite me. I shifted my gaze away from the notepad top the ground as I waited for him to speak.

"Since you don't want to speak you can write it down here. If you want, you can use that as a means we would communicate or if you don't like that I'd totally understand..."

Lies. He won't understand anything. None of them would. They didn't before. Why now?

"—You can use it as a diary. You can write down those feelings you bottle up. I'm pretty sure you love writing, or you loved it at a point in your life. Writing your feelings down is better than bottling it up"

I know that. I know that writing is a form of therapy. I know all these, I didn't need to be told again.

But they don't understand. They will never understand.

I didn't take the pen nor attempted to do so. I didn't even act as if I heard him or paid any attention to what he said and that must've sadden him because he released an almost inaudible sigh, but I heard him.

Being in confines of such rooms, I'm always on high alert of everything.

It went on like that for minutes, and then slowly an hour passed with him trying to talk to me and with me ignoring him. He still didn't give up, and the more he tried the more I lost interest in it. All I wanted to do was get away from him, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible and he knows that but he just won't let me go.

As the clock hit 11:57 my nervousness grew.

Three minutes.

In three minutes it'll happen again, and I know I'll barely be able to handle what will happen. I know I won't.

I've been through it enough times to know what will happen. Another reason why I hate therapy is that each time I go, the minute the clock hits 12 it happens. It happens no matter how many precautions I take it finds a way to happen.

My eyes remain fixated on the clock that was mounted on the wall beside the book shelf unwaveringly.

"Hafsat are you okay?" Dr. Aasim asked but I didn't look at him nor pay any heed to him.

11:58am. Two more minutes.

I could feel his gaze move from me to the wall to see what I'm staring at but I still didn't waver my gaze. I watch the time as the seconds move slowly.

"Hey..." he snapped his fingers in front of me but I still didn't pay attention to him. With each and every second that passes by I could hear the thumping of my heart loudly in my ribcage as if it's going to jump out.

11:59am. Just a minute more.

I don't know but I'm sure my eyes had dilated. I could feel my nerves chocking me as the seconds suddenly moved faster. I could no longer focus on my surrounding or Dr. Aasim's voice. All I could focus on was the time.

And then...

12:00pm. My phone pinged.

I inhaled sharply as I held my phone that was in my pocket tightly with shaky hands. Gulping thickly, I slowly brought it out. Blinking and holding my breath in I looked at the screen, the message was the first thing I saw.

•Dear Kulsum,

You owe me your life.

~*~

The last update of the day is here.

Let's meet tomorrow.

Share please, tag people to read this book!

So, what do you think of your Dr. Aasim?

Love, Jannah.