love shades ( Major editing)

He's back

I woke up to Mum's voice, acting as our family's human alarm clock. Groggily, I moved around in bed for a good five minutes before dragging myself lazily to the bathroom. After completing my daily routine, I performed wudu in preparation for Fajr prayer. My school started at eight o'clock, so I had a couple of hours left. I felt the urge to catch some more sleep, considering it had been a long week. Little did I know I'd fall asleep so easily, but I was indeed tired.

By the time I woke up, I had already become 15 minutes late. Being perpetually tardy had become a habit, and my mornings rarely saw me on time. It was a challenge to fight my inner sleepyhead. I hurriedly got dressed and tried to make it to school.

My role at school had changed; I was now the one standing in front of the students as a teacher, not a student. On entering the classroom, I observed a mix of students, chatting and even flirting. My presence prompted everyone to return to their seats.

"Alright, kids, get your books out," I said, dropping my books on the table with a thud. I often wondered why I did this, but I tried to put on a tough teacher act. I taught my favorite subject, history, despite knowing that most students found it boring.

"Turn to page 101 today; we'll be learning about Egypt," I instructed. Groans escaped from some of the boys, but my stern glare silenced them, and we proceeded with the lesson.

My day began in this manner, and during the break, I joined my fellow teachers, all of whom were older and more experienced than me. I enjoyed my Mum's homemade food while listening to their discussions. After completing my classes, it was time to head home.

I made my way to my car, which was smaller than I'd prefer. My actual car was currently with my friends. I turned on the radio and played my favorite songs during the drive. Even though it might not be the most halal thing, I couldn't resist listening to music. I parked the car in the driveway and noticed another car, a BMW, already there. I wondered who the guest might be as I rang the doorbell, and Mum opened the door with a wide smile. She welcomed me in, and I noticed that Yara, my sister, had arrived in the BMW.

"Get off, you idiot. I'm tired," was my less-than-enthusiastic greeting. Yara, in her typical fashion, scrunched her nose and pushed me, demonstrating her sisterly love. As I freshened up and joined the family for lunch, I realized that Mum had prepared all of Yara's favorite dishes. The lack of my favorite food was frustrating, but I stayed quiet.

"Mum, where's my favorite dish?" I asked, pouting. The situation turned comical, with Abdul joining in the laughter, my brother-in-law, while Yara was far from amused.

"Anan, it's just that Yara's back after a while, you'll get your favorites too," Mum consoled me, and I rolled my eyes. I pondered that perhaps I should get married soon so that she'd miss me in the same way she missed Yara. Still, I couldn't help but find amusement in the sibling dynamics between Abdul and Yara. His playful whining only made her angrier.

Lunch proceeded, with Yara and Abdul leaving the table later. Mum noticed my pensive mood and told me there was a guest. I didn't particularly relish the idea of having to be social with the guest.

I walked over to the living room, where I encountered the same man I'd seen at a wedding, the one Abdul worked for. The guest, Abdul's boss and friend, rose his head, and we locked eyes. I wasn't too thrilled, to say the least, and considered him the reason behind Mum's request to return early. Still, I didn't give in to his presence; I was too consumed by my thoughts.

Later, while everyone was chatting and enjoying their meal, I couldn't stop contemplating the task Mr. Edward, my school principal, had imposed on me. The request was simple yet daunting – to manage the upcoming school day. But my mind was elsewhere, and I was lost in thought.

As my thoughts swirled around, a message broke through my musings. It was from someone I'd rather not hear from, the unwanted contact in my life.

'Why did you go away like that?'

I couldn't fathom what the sender meant by this message. I replied, asking for clarification.

'What?'

His response only increased my shock.

'Your so dumb; it's me. Come down; I'm going to leave.'

I was stunned, my lips slightly parted. Could it really be him?

'Omar?!' I texted, disbelieving what I'd seen.

'You are correct; it's me.'

At the realization that it was, in fact, Omar, my anger began to rise. It had been four long years without contact, and now, out of nowhere, he was asking to see me.

'I'm sorry, wrong number,' I texted him back and cut off the call. I even switched off my phone.

'banana your expression is priceless,' his message read.

My irritation and curiosity combined as I dialed his number again, wanting to give him a piece of my mind. But Omar's phone rang and went unanswered, making me even more irritated. Why had he called, only to ignore my attempts to contact him?

I glanced out of the window, expecting to see him, but he was gone. The anger from his unexplained reappearance lingered, and I refused to send him a reply or make any further attempts to reach out to him. This was yet another game he was playing, and I had no intention of being part of it.

I couldn't help but wonder, though. Why had he reached out after all this time? What were his intentions? A deep sense of nostalgia and curiosity gnawed at me, but I couldn't bring myself to indulge in his games.

Days turned into weeks, and my work at the school became increasingly demanding, particularly with the additional task assigned by Mr. Edward. My mind was occupied by these responsibilities, and I pushed thoughts of Omar aside. I didn't need more complications in my life.

I was furious, but I soon forgot about him in the rush of my work and responsibilities. I had more important things to think about.

Today, however, something nagged at me, pushing me to revisit this unexpected contact from Omar. A myriad of thoughts swirled in my head, an intricate tapestry of emotions, weaving the memories of our past together. I couldn't escape the fact that he had been a significant presence in my life.

Omar and I had shared countless moments, from childhood antics to teenage misadventures. He was my confidant, the one person who knew my deepest secrets, dreams, and fears. We had bonded over music, singing those teenage anthems of rebellion, and I don't know how it ended so fast.

I lay back on my bed and listened to the sound of my own

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