Beau Monde ✅

Chapter 20

Ayaan Fadel.

Hadewa Caliphate,

Nigeria.

10 Years Ago

The kind of regret you have after losing a loved one is unlike any other.

You'd begin to constantly think back to the times you've wronged the person and what you could've done to make it better if only you made the effort.

You think of all the times you took for granted; the words you wanted to say out but never got the chance to do so, the actions you've never got to exhibit, and a whole lot more.

I guess, you never understand what it meant to have someone valuable, until you lose the person. I'd always known what I had, I just never thought I would lose it all like that.

Death is a scary thing. It comes when you least expect.

It comes as you fold your arms with your legs stretched out, planning things that would never happen with hope of doing a lot more. It would rip you off of what you have, leaving you with the pain. At least, that was what I'd thought until it crossed my mind that Allah simply took back what was his.

He loved them more than I do.

I knew I should've simply held onto that, but it's easier said than done. People think it's easy to simply get over a loved one, it's easy to get over losing a family. They say, 'time heals,' and that 'it shall all come to pass'.

I don't believe it. Especially not in the first few days of losing the person.

In my shoes, I lost three at the same time. I lost my family; the only family I know, and care the most about.

At first, it didn't feel real. I could still remember watching as their car was pulled out of the water. My memories of the moment all feels like a blur. The more I try to remember, the harder it hits.

If I wasn't dragged away from the scene, only God knows what I would've done. Perhaps, I would've even tried to fall into the water, in a desperate attempt to save them despite my rational self knowing I would end up dead as well.

It didn't seem like a bad idea then. I'd rather go along with them...that's how it was supposed to be anyway. I wasn't thinking straight, I didn't even want to. I could barely understand what was being said to me, as I forcefully pulled away from the scene.

I hated the person that did that, I still do. However, there was something else running through my mind then—that was for me to accept that my family truly is gone.

That Baba, Mami, and Anisa are all...dead.

I didn't want to believe it. I cannot believe it.

I took staggering steps into my room, ignoring the voices calling out for me. It sounded so distant.

I made sure to lock the door behind me, before I leaned my back against it and slowly slid down to sit on the floor. Moving my hand to my chest, I insistently rubbed the spot where my heart is—suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

My eyes glossed for the first time in my time, but the tears never fell.

I had never wished to cry in my life, but I did then. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream it all out, and let my pain out. But, I couldn't.

No matter how much I tried to, it never came out.

Bringing my legs to my chest, I fisted my hand and brought it to my mouth, blowing out steady, but shaky breaths. Despite not being able to shed any tears, I would be lying if I say the ache in my heart wasn't growing, and expanding into a hole so big I doubted anything would be able to fill it up.