Mikaal

46: Mikaal

Everything was black. Was it the room she was in, the lights off?

No, her eyes were closed... So heavy, her eyelids. Too much effort to open them. Keep them shut for now...

Where was she? She could hear noises—beeping, heavy breathing.

Hang on... Yes, she realised, it was her own breathing. But what was around her mouth? Not just mouth, her nose as well...

And her arms, hard to move, so weak—why?

But God, her head, ringing, throbbing—

"Stay away from her!"

Who was that? A woman's voice, loud, or maybe close—she wasn't sure.

"Look what you did! Haven't you hurt her enough!"

Hysterical—crying, wailing.

Wait... There was another voice, calmer, but too quiet for her to hear.

"Get the hell away from here!"

Dalia woke with a jolt at the sound of her preset alarm, a frown on her face. Another dream, a new one today—possibly another memory? Could this have been in the hospital? Was that her mother?

Whether yes or no, her next step would be the same—write the bloody details down!

She groaned as she pulled herself out of bed, her body aching from head to toe. 'When was the last time I exercised,' she wondered. She had been on her feet for at least three hours the day before, but you'd think she ran a marathon after half a day in IKEA!

Dalia's stomach grumbled as she scribbled the details of her dream in her notebook before tossing the book back in her backpack. 'Hmm, what should I have for breakfast anyway?' She felt like a treat—to celebrate a new beginning.

After spending yesterday afternoon at the nearest hardware store looking for hooks to hang her paintings, in the evening, she had arranged them as they were displayed in the showroom, above the centre of her bedhead so it was the first thing she saw when she entered her room. She had also changed her quilt and pillow covers and arranged the new cushion with her pillows like they did in a display home. She had felt giddy looking at the beginnings of her new sanctuary, a place to look forward to coming home to.

Dalia tugged and bunched the covers in her arms and inhaled the soothing smell of new linen. Her body relaxed and her mind emptied.

"I'm dining out," she said aloud in a decisive tone before her hands roamed the space between her pillows for her phone to check the time.

"What!" It was already 11:00 am—no wonder she was starving. It was almost freaking noon!

"Might as well do brunch..." Her eyes lit up. "Silk Road!" She checked Google Maps for their opening times. "Awesome!" she said, energy surging within her, propelling her onto her feet.

"Hey Siri, play some R&B from the 2000s," she called out as she got dressed.

A moment later, the tunes continued through her car speakers in the short drive to one of her favourite restaurants. Her mouth watered thinking about the skewers of lamb kebab served with traditional Uyghur braised rice cooked with carrots and onions... Her stomach chorused her enthusiasm with a loud grumble.

"Almost there," she said to it, turning into the underground car-park below the grocery store right behind the restaurant.

"Must be my lucky day," Dalia said with a smile as a car pulled out of a bay in the otherwise full parking lot. After her car was parked, she walked up the escalator that led into the small shopping complex then out the doors to the main road where restaurants and cafes were littered on either side.