love shades ( Major editing)

Accident

I was eagerly anticipating hearing about him for days, but now that I've seen him, my ego won't let me move on. It's not like he did it on purpose, but I can't shake this feeling. Why am I even thinking about him? He's like a walking nightmare, haunting my thoughts. Ugh! Quiet down, you annoying mind.

Currently, I'm swamped with schoolwork. Mr. Edward appears to be quite pleased, but I certainly don't share his enthusiasm. The workload is overwhelming. My mom, oblivious to the workload, questions why I'm not at home. She forgets she made me leave early last week for that unusual event. I've been busy with my students, making numerous calls for decorations and invitations. How could I forget about that? I should speak to Mr. Edward. I make my way to the principal's office, knocking on the door before entering.

"Yes, miss," he says with an unusual smile. It's a rare sight to see Mr. Edward smiling at me. I take a seat in front of him and inquire about the special invitations. To my surprise, he informs me that he has already handled them himself. I'm incredibly grateful for this assistance because time is running out, and even the smallest additional task would add to my stress. After discussing a few more matters, I exit his office, relieved. The day has been consumed by work and more work.

My final task is to store the boxes filled with files. I drop them off on Mr. Edward's desk and leave the school. On the way home, I pick up some garlic bread, a personal favorite. After parking my car and using the spare keys to enter the house, I freshen up and indulge in the garlic bread with a side of Coke. I know it's not the healthiest choice. I'm flipping through TV channels when I come across a familiar face. It's Omar. The sight of him nearly chokes me on my bread. I'm shocked and overjoyed at the same time because Omar is launching his new building. I jump up and down, hugging the TV in celebration. I eagerly dial his number, but it doesn't go through. I assume he must be busy with the event. I watch him on TV as he walks, and the media questions him. After a while, I switch it off, returning to my schoolwork.

As I'm engrossed in my tasks, my doorbell keeps ringing incessantly. I wonder who could be so impatient. After wrapping my hijab and opening the door, I find two police officers standing there.

"Ma'am, we're here to inform you that Mr. Abdul and Mrs. Abdul were in an accident," the taller officer informs me with a tight smile. My heart sinks. Without delay, I grab my keys, lock the door, and rush to the hospital, all the while praying fervently for their safety. Along the way, I inform my dad and mom, and I arrive at the hospital, anxiously searching for the room.

I find Abdul seated and Yara on the bed, smiling. I hug Yara tightly, unable to contain my emotions.

"Goodness, you scared me half to death. What happened?" I ask, bewildered. They exchange smiles and share a look as if they have a secret. What's going on with them? I notice a bandage on Abdul's left hand, while Yara seems mostly unharmed, with just some bruises on her forehead.

"It was just a minor accident. Abdul lost control when a car suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Alhamdulillah, we're okay," Yara nonchalantly explains. Soon, my mom, dad, and Aunt Maria rush into the room. The dramatic scene unfolds as my mother bursts into tears, examining them. Yara reassures everyone that they're fine, but we're all still in shock. We eventually discharge them and drive them home in my car. My mom insists that Yara stay with us, forcing the newlyweds to cancel their honeymoon. While Yara is amenable, Abdul seems uncomfortable with the idea. He has a peculiar, almost sad expression, and it's amusing to watch him try to convince our mom, not realizing that she never changes her mind.

I retire to bed early because my body aches, and I have an early school day to face. Knowing I can't afford to waste any time, I fall asleep quickly.

Amidst a deep slumber, I feel someone tapping on me. I open my eyes to see Omar standing there. What on earth is he doing here? I let out a scream, only to wake up in my own bed. I'm perplexed by the strange occurrence and his presence in my dreams. To find solace, I recite Ayatul Kursi and fall back to sleep.

Once more, I'm awakened, this time by my mother's loud and grating voice. Rushing through my morning routine in a hurry, I realize I'm late, having fallen asleep on my prayer mat. I can't believe how exhausted I am, likely due to all the preparations for the school event.

Finally, the big day has arrived. I'm feeling a mix of restlessness and nervous excitement. Everything is meticulously planned, and the children are buzzing with anticipation. Not just because of the ceremony, but because it means a day without studying. I remember how thrilled I used to be when school declared a day off from studies. In the grandeur of the expertly decorated main hall, I take my place among my fellow teachers. The chief guest has just arrived, but I avoid looking at him at first. When I finally do, I'm overcome with anxiety, as if a nightmare has come to life. What on earth is he doing here? The ceremony begins, and I play a pivotal role in managing the proceedings. When it's time for the special guest to address the gathering, he strides up to the microphone and begins to speak, sharing personal anecdotes of his school days and his mischievous nature as a student. He recounts how he used to get into trouble but had friends who always had his back. It strikes me that he's talking about me.

"And there was this one special person in my life..." he says, and I can't believe my ears. He's looking right at me, my face turning beet red with shock. The crowd erupts in applause as he finishes speaking, and my heart races. He seemed to remember the words I used to tell him. It's almost as if he's sharing our secret with the world. I feel a unique connection between us, and I'm left wondering about the meaning behind his words. As the event ends, the children swarm around him, and he becomes the center of attention.

I walk past the crowd and make my way to my car. There he is in his fancy Benz, and I look at my modest car, affectionately patting it. Then I hop into my car and drive away. As I turn left and then right onto the road, I suddenly hear a crash. I can't believe it. Did I just collide with another car? I get out of my car to see it's been completely crushed. My heart sinks even further when I realize it's Omar who stepped out of the other car, wearing a smirk.

"What the heck?" I yell in frustration, observing his car, which seems perfectly fine compared to mine.

"Look what you did to my car. Do you know how hard it was to buy it? I spent my whole life saving for this, and you just crashed it!" I yelled, frustration bubbling.

Omar's face remained composed. Then, suddenly, he chuckled and pointed at my car, saying, "This is your baby, huh? What about me, umm, I mean my Benz? It's way more expensive than yours. You're crying over a toy car." I scoffed, glaring at his undamaged Benz. He could probably fix it in no time, but my poor car was a complete wreck. I couldn't help but imagine the upcoming lecture from my mom.

"Listen, mister, I'm not going to fix anything for you. Just call your insurance company; they'll help you. And it's all your fault. Don't you know there's a bend here, and you should always be aware of it?" I shot him a stern glare.

He continued to chuckle, unfazed by my frustration. "Fine, it's my fault. My bad that your car is damaged. But I need you to fix my car, or you're going to be in big trouble," he said with a smirk. I was puzzled by what he meant. I'm not a billionaire like him, after all. He then made a call, and someone arrived within seconds in another car. A police car pulled up beside us, and the officers began checking the damage. They swiftly removed my car from the road. I noticed that one of the officers was the same one who had informed me about Yara and Abdul's accident. He gave me a warm smile.

"Hello, Miss Anan. It seems like accidents happen to you quite often," he commented with a sheepish grin. I turned to look over my shoulder at Omar, who was conversing with the man. Without much concern for me, he then drove away with him, leaving me to contemplate the situation. I couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment, as if he no longer wanted me.

When I arrived home, I grabbed some snacks and locked myself in my room. I fell back onto my bed, wondering what on earth I was going to tell my mom about the car.

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