Wounded: Our Journey Home

Wounded- Chapter Thirteen

        After praying, I made my way towards the kitchen for some food.

        I never really noticed their house when we first came in. It's a one story ranch house with about four to five rooms, a normal sized front room with a L-shaped couch and love seat and glass coffee table in the middle. They have a dining room that connects to the kitchen, and might I say the kitchen is beautiful. As I walked inside to see the island counter in the middle, I was hooked. More than anything I like to cook, but a nice kitchen is what I've always wanted.

        Since it was only Mama and I for the longest time, we never needed much. All the appliances we have we've had since before I was born, and they work perfectly fine so there was no need for new ones. Sometimes Mama would tell me that we deserved better and that we shouldn't have to live the life that we did, but we never changed it because that's what we were used to after a while. It wasn't the normal family house, but it was comfortable--ours.

        After my father passed, my uncles on both sides would step in and take care of us, especially after Mama's condition got worse. I was young and confused as to why her mood would go up and down so much that I had to stay with Safeer and his parents for days and weeks at a time. Until I was about fifteen I didn't understand why they kept me away from her when she had her 'moods' as they would say. But I ended up understanding when certain incidents happened that shouldn't of.

        I love Mama more than anyone, don't get me wrong, but I never understood why they didn't get her real help. I still don't.

        "Salaam," Annie yawned on her way into the kitchen and straight for the fridge. "If you need to make salaah, you can make it in the salaah room," She yawned and lazily pointed her finger in the direction of the room.

       Shaking my head, I laughed and went over to help her with breakfast. It wasn't even light outside yet, but you can't always gage when you're hungry.

      "I already prayed," I assured her and took out the eggs and got ready to whisk them. "We haven't talked at all before," I commented and she nodded.

       "No, we haven't."

         Annie stopped what she was doing to smile lightly at me. "Were you and Safeer close as kids."

      "Close?" I scoffed. "He was more of my brother than cousin. Neither of us really had other family members our age to hang around, so we would always be drawn to each other." I lowered my voice and my head. "Especially after my father passed."

        "I'm sorry," She told me, and I couldn't help but smile at how nice she was. On her wedding day I thought she was a little, well, full of herself by how she acted towards everyone. I guess I was wrong.

        "I was very young at the time, I didn't really know him," I said simply. I was trying to show her I was fine but she took that as a sign to look even sadder towards me.

        "What are we going to cook?" I changed the subject. Annie smiled at me, most likely thankful that I made the situation less awkward and came by my side.

        "We can either cook omelettes, bagels or waffles..."

        "Ayah?!"

        We heard from the hallway. Both of us stopped in our tracks to look at each other in confusion. Why is Jafar yelling my name?

       "Ayah?!"

        "In the kitchen," I called, the whole time stifling a laugh at the sight of him. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled from yesterday and a confused expression on his features. As he found us in the kitchen and stared at me in horror, we both turned to see Safeer in the background who was trying to stifle his laughter as well.