"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay...It's not the end." — John Lennon.
It's been One day.
One. Whole. Day.
Twenty Four Hours, thirty five Minutes.
Since I last heard from Areeb.
I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't live.
Maybe that's a tad bit too over dramatic. I certainly CAN....I just don't want to. Areeb isn't just a future husband; he is my best friend. I cannot recall a single childhood memory, or a single teenage mischief without him. Not knowing where he is, what he is going through...it is slowly eating away at me.
The first two days after he "disappeared" I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone about it. I knew Mom and Dad will flip out and create a scene. I am not even sure he is in physical danger...what if I'm blowing things out of proportion? I did call up his parents, who assured me that Areeb was still overseas.
His call had been from a local number. Which means he hadn't told anyone about arriving back. I'm conflicted between keeping the call a secret, and raising hell over his indiscretion.
I told Ali though. He is the only one who understood my concerns.
"Maybe he got into a fight or something?" Ali suggests.
We're meeting secretly in my room; to avoid spreading this news all over my extended family.
"Areeb is a pacifist." I am wringing my hands, and pacing back and forth. My phone is fully charged, my laptop is running quietly keeping tabs on facebook, twitter, and gmail for any activity from Areeb.
"Okay...maybe he is in trouble with the airport?....He isn't into contraband is he?" My brother is adding fuel to my worries!
"WHAT!....AAGHH!! I DON'T KNOW!! Gee! thanks Ali! now I have more possible scenarios to freak out about!" I scream nervously at him.
"Call up his parents again. I think we should tell them." He says grimly.
I am torn between calling them with my worried suspicions, and not wanting to blow it bigger than it is. To be honest, that brief call could have been about anything. What if I raise a havoc, and then it turns out he broke his new iPhone or something?
"I fucked up...You'll hate me too..."
WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEAN?
He should at least respond to the 534 texts I have sent him uptill now! There isn't a single social media account where I haven't spammed him. I also asked Ali to contact all of Areeb's regular "Extreme Travel" Buddies. They said they had no idea he was on a Euro-trip. He made a solo trip. And then He came back. And he didn't tell anyone about it.
My gut says he is fine. But my gut also says that everything isn't fine.
I make up my mind.
"Please call his Dad, Ali."
.............
His parents are worried sick too now. Another day has passed.
He is with none of his University friends. He hasn't used his credit card anytime recently. And apparently he landed in Pakistan from Germany two days ago. He was safe and sound.
Corrupt, evil security institutions of my country are making the search even more difficult for us. They have bled Areeb's dad dry for conducting all the little research they have done so far.
They are stretching out a cell-phone tracker plan as well.... We could have had some results by now, but they are deliberately dragging it out in hopes of squeezing more money from our misfortune.
We are desperate, so it works in their favor.
Areeb's Dad is a deeply religious, and principled man who has never willingly crossed any moral, or legal boundaries. He is being reduced by his fatherly worry, and desperation to pay greedy officials all sorts of hefty bribes.
A sobbing Farah Auntie (Areeb's Mom) told me the updates for today.
His parents want to wait another day before they tell anyone else about it. So I have managed with inhuman strength, to keep mum about it at home.
Everyone's chalking up my lack of appetite and sleep with pre-wedding jitters.
I am not arguing with this statement.
Although at this point, I am worried whether there will be a wedding.
.............
Someone's playing the piano.
Right beside my ears. I moan softly. "Make it stop. Please."
It plays on. And On. And On.
"pleasestopitplease." I mutter, incoherent with sleep.
It stops. Sigh.
Then it starts playing again.
I almost cry with the torture of it. The process repeats itself.
Piano Tune. Pause. Piano Tune. Pause. Piano Tune. Pause.
Sleep eventually sheds its weight.
My phone is ringing.
Holy Shit. My Phone is ringing at 3:30 in the morning. I fell asleep at 1, which explains my stubborn sleepiness. It takes a few groggy minutes to re-orient myself with the land of the living, because I honestly feel freshly resurrected from the dead. My phone reads 16 Missed Calls. From Areeb's parents.
My heart immediately jumps into my throat.
I suddenly don't even want to hear what they might want to tell me. Shaking fingers press the call back button.
"Hello! Assalamualikum Auntie. You called?" I rasp out.
"Walikumassalam Beta (child). Just wanted to let you know that his phone call was traced. We just got the address. He is at a new apartment he bought a month ago. It was sitting empty, so it never occurred to us that he might be there....We're on our way over there right now!" Areeb's mom sounds just as broken as i feel. I cannot even fathom what she, as a mother must be going through.
I push myself towards my brother's room. "Auntie, can you explain the address to Ali? I am on my way."
.................
It took a healthy amount of shoving and prodding, and threats to wake Ali up.
We sneaked out quietly somehow, without waking up our sleeping relatives. I had blindly grabbed two coke cans. I handed one to a bleary-eyed Ali who was driving.
He looked at me like I was insane.
"You need to be completely awake right now. I don't want us to die without anyone knowing where we are." I pop open the cans. "Caffeine. It helps."
We gulped down the cold liquid. Grimacing at the strong taste to our sleepy taste-buds.
Approximately a 30 minute drive later, we reached the address his mom had described. It was near the sea-front. Areeb loves the sea, which explains his choice of apartments.
As I am about to step out of the car, my phone rings again.
Areeb's Mom.
"Yes?" I hurriedly ask.
"He is here. Alhamdolillah! Apartment 2D." she rattles off and hangs up.
I am suddenly irrationally angry. That bastard! If he is healthy and alive. I will kill him.
No. I will knee him where it hurts, then pinch his nape hair. And THEN...I will kill him. How dare he make us crazy like this? I am wearing my freaking pajamas right now for Allah's sake!
I walk into a mostly barren apartment. Loud voices can be heard from one of the rooms. There's a couple of travel bags, and empty water bottles strewn across the barren floor.
"...DROVE US OUT OF OUR MINDS WITH WORRY..."
"...Ya Allah! if something had happened to you!!..."
His parents are grilling him now. Good.
I march into the room to find Areeb's ghost staring at me. My angry lectures never find their way out of my throat.
He has lost weight. His cheekbones are more prominent than ever.
His eyes look haunted. red rimmed, and surrounded by almost black shadows. He looks like a prison escapee, with his mismatched long shorts and too-loose football jersey.
His eyes are fixed on me. He isn't even listening to his parents rant anymore.
"I need to speak to her. Alone." He whispers.
Both of his parents stop talking, and turn back to gape at me.
My brother is one pissed off protective older brother right now.
"The Hell you will!..you left her to worry over you for three fucking days dude. NOT COOL!" Ali scowls at him
"I need. To speak to her. Now." His voice is deadly calm. Something about his expression shuts everyone up. I can only stare wordlessly at him. Why do I have a feeling that I am about to be destroyed?
"Fine. But you won't lock the door. Five minutes, and I barge in here." Ali grumbles before following Uncle and Auntie out of the door. The room's unpainted wooden door swings shut behind them.
"You Jerk! You made me think of such horrible things!!! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD AREEB!" I am shuddering with anger and fear.
"Please stop shouting. Please. I need five minutes. Then you may choose to scream at me...If you can still bear to be in my presence." He is staring at a spot over my head.
I bite my lip to stop from screaming more profanities at him. The list of curses and scoldings I have been collecting for the past few days threaten to spring out.
"I can't marry you Mina."
I gape at him. What. Did. He. Say?
"Excuse me?" I whisper; "The wedding is less than two weeks away. WHAT The FUCK happened to you?"
He winces at my language.
"I am a horrible man Mina. I deserve to be drawn and quartered. I hate myself so bad....I cannot stand to be inside my own skin." His tortured voice is back.
My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears, I cannot even hear my own thoughts.
He won't even look my way.
"I don't deserve you Min....I am not the man for you." His voice is surprisingly calm. Like the ocean before it turns savage. eerie. deadly.
Breath seems to find it difficult to escape my throat.
"Don't do this....Not like this, you're my best friend. We love each other. We deserve to be together. Please...WOULD YOU LOOK AT ME!"
His dark eyes are dead. No emotion. No sadness, no regret.
"You're wrong. YOU are in love. I never was. When I tell you the truth, you will run screaming from me, and my love." He inches closer to me, runs a hand over my wet cheeks. "And Min, Never ever say that we deserve each other."
"Wha..what do you mean?"
"You better sit down."
"I'm not going to sit down!! WHAT did you do?" I push his hand away from my face.
"Remember after I tell this to you....I do Love you. But I'm not In love with you....I never was. I never will be."
His words are making me sick.
"Minnie...I was in Spain. I lost it. I hated myself...and I did something stupid....I got High. I bought drugs on a deal. And I got High...." He hesitates for a while.
My heart is already breaking. Substance abuse? He never even smoked sheesha or cigarettes during his teenage years. This doesn't sound like him!
"...I was at a bar when it happened...And I...I did something...with someone." His eyes cannot meet mine.
They don't have to.
Because I know what I'll find in them.
Treachery. Guilt. Self-loathing.
I don't know how long I stood staring at him while he kept on confessing. He was telling me about a woman...a woman he...did.
Apparently he doesn't even remember the details.
Because of all the drugs in his system.
I wonder if he knows I am not there with him anymore.
I think I died a thousand deaths, just standing there.
He cheated.
I died.
A/N:
Sorry for a less than regular update!
I did post a big fat chapter though...That should count for something! right? right?
Anyways, will be slightly irregular for the next few days. My teachers don't know I am writing a book, or they'd surely give me free marks for term reports. :P
LOL. No they won't.
Let me know your thoughts about this new development!
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Cheers!