You, Alone. ✅

Chapter 7

Older- Sasha Sloan

My life fell back into its usual routine. Only now there was a presence of Rayyan and a presence of Rahma to guide it. I go to school, come home and do my school chores, greet my parent if they're around and hang out with Rahma.

It was like the still water Rayyan and I always stare at. And our painting classes was the only turbulence it experiences; like taking a pebble and throwing it into the river. The waves rise slowly, the currents bouncing off against each other until it stops dancing and ultimately remain still.

Our last encounter heightened the respect I have for Rayyan. For him to rise and survive as a little child is beyond what I could picture him as. The initial thought of getting angry as he claimed "I had all attention" suddenly faded into air. Of course he has every right to think I have all attention, I never had to battle for something to eat.

Crazy how we think we are the only ones at war when everyone else carries a battle within them.

Again, Rayyan opened my eyes to something without him even knowing. He has never gone to an expensive art school, yet he paints like a professional artist.

That's the great thing with art, everyone can be an artist and no one can know art. Someone could go to school and never know how to hold a paint brush properly and here is one who never sat in the four walls of a classroom, breathing life into his art.

The beauty of art is the fire, the desire and the intense passion that grows and growls inside the artist.

That's why artist create and scientists discover.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I would like to say the day that I saw a different person in me, my father and my mother was the day I first tried cheesy fries. I finished eating lunch with my friends at school and went home. It was a good day, I was in a good mood.

Rahma was with the other helps sorting things out when I walked into the house. I dropped my bag, prayed and settled on the couch. I was well aware of the assignments I have to do but I ignored it. I choose not to drown myself in a depressive decision that someone made, to taunt students.

I know people lament on how they hate school, but sometimes I feel my hatred runs deeper. Must knowledge be confined in four walls, text books and heart wrecking notes?

My mind was occupied with the assignments and how to solve them when the landline started ringing. I looked up to the sound and squinted my eyes. Weird! No one ever calls the landline.

Hesitating a bit, I walked to the ringing phone and picked it up. I kept quiet as I listened for the other voice

"Hello? A familiar voice said

"Hello" I replied

"It's Dr Yahya. Ammarah is that you?

I relaxed when I realized it was the family doctor "Yes it's me. Good afternoon sir"

"Good afternoon Ammarah. I need you at the hospital right now. I've been calling your mother but she isn't picking"

"Hospital? I questioned "What happened"

He sighed a little "It's your father. He's a bit sick"

I knew my father wasn't "a bit" sick as Dr Yahya put it. The urgency and fright in his voice contrast with what he said.

I nodded anyways and said "I'm on my way"

I dropped the phone and glanced up slowly searching for an emotion or a reaction to the news I just heard, but nothing. I was feeling nothing. My heart was numb and my toes weren't cold.