I. Need. Sleep.
Eeek! Haruuuunnnn!!! *to all you HK shippers* ;)
P.S. Don't kill me... I'm too tired to defend myself anyways...
***
"Bye Harun! See ya soon." Irene waves at me as she gives Maymunah a knowing look before she heads off somewhere else in the airport. Meanwhile, Maymunah herself has a wistful smile gracing her lips. I raise my eyebrows, curious as to why she seems so sad.
"May, it's only going to be a few days. Just this weekend," I tell her in an attempt to comfort her. "I need to visit Kay - my family," I stutter. I bite my lip and rub the back of my neck awkwardly, hoping she didn't catch that. It's her turn to raise her eyebrows. "We'll let them know soon, okay?" I look carefully into her warm, brown eyes. I wonder why some people with brown eyes hate that physical feature about them. Brown eyes are actually beautiful. Much more beautiful when they are soft and comforting.
She barely nods. She opens her mouth to speak, and I'm surprised by what she asks. "About that... do you think we're ready? We're in college and-"
"How about if we just not focus on that right now? I don't want to stop you from pursuing your dream as a lawyer; it'd be awesome to see you in court." Her eyebrows raise again and I chuckle. "As a lawyer, you know."
"Whatever," she says, rolling her eyes as she shows off her smile. "So, you'll tell them this weekend? I will tell mine too if you're ready. Remember, we don't want to rush in on this."
"Maymunah, don't worry yourself over this, okay? I get that you don't want to get your hopes up too high, but just have faith in Allah that this'll work out," I say reassuringly. She sighs and nods again.
"Okay. Sorry about that." Her eyes drift towards her phone. "I think you should be getting on your flight now. Be safe, okay? Don't do anything idiotic or stupid or I'll regret even agreeing with you on this."
A smirk tugs at my lips. "Aww, you really care about me? How sweet of you," I mock as the intercom says, "Flight 24 is boarding now. Flight 24."
"Haha," she says with a dull tone. "Now, go! Seriously, don't get yourself in trouble, okay? And make sure you say hi to Hafsa for me. Oh, and your mom. And-"
"I get why my dad always complains about my mom. She's just too caring like you." She blushes furiously, the crimson color on her cheeks spreading rapidly. "And talkative." Then she glares at me. I swear, girls always have mood swings. It's weird.
"I'll tell Aunty you said that," she says with a stern expression while I just shrug. "Okay, go now. See you soon. Assalamu Alaykum."
"Wa Alaykum Asalaam," I return, my mood finally turning somber. As I walk away to the door where Flight 24 is boarding, she stays rooted at the same place, waving and smiling, telling me to be safe. I nod, wave back, and join the other passengers in line, my heart beating rapidly as I near the door.
I'm anxious to tell my family and Kayla. Hafsa already knows, but how will the others take the news? If they say no, then all of my hopes will be crushed miserably. I think to myself as I show the person collecting plane tickets my ticket and passport. She takes my ticket, tears it in half, and hands me back the part of the ticket with my seat number. "Have a wonderful flight," she says warmly with a smile.
As I step into the passenger boarding bridge, I look over my shoulder only to find Maymunah gone. My heart sinks a bit. Even though I'm leaving for this weekend and we've said our goodbyes, I feel like I'm leaving her forever. She's a crucial part of me which I'll forever hold on to. Her eyes, her smile, her intelligence, her dorkiness - those are the things that I adore the most about her. I've been lost before I've met her, but now I feel complete having her in my life.
I drag my light suitcase behind me, walking the same pace as the people around me. I hum to myself until the entrance of the plane comes into view. I lift my suitcase to get it on the plane, and a flight attendant welcomes me with a warm smile. "Have a nice flight, sir."
I nod in acknowledgement as I glance at my half of the ticket. I find my seat number and load my suitcase into the overhead bin. I also make sure I turn my phone off before the flight attendants come to remind us. I pocket it and take out a book, which is ironic since I don't want to dig my nose into yet another book. I sit down in my seat and get engrossed in the carefully chosen words on the many pages. The only time I get interrupted throughout the flight is when a flight attendant tells me tobuckle in and adjust my seat upright.
I don't notice someone sitting next to me until I realize I've already reached the tenth chapter of the book. I glance to my left. An old woman with wrinkly skin and graying hair looks at a picture of a man longingly. Her hand trembles as she holds the grainy picture. She lifts it to her lips and softly kisses the picture of the man.
I close my book and cough awkwardly, now regretting interrupting the woman in her moment of... grief? "Excuse me, ma'am, is he your husband?" I ask politely.
She slowly turns towards me; I get a little intimidated as she thinks awhile, as if she has forgotten what I asked her momentarily. She nods wistfully. "His funeral's tomorrow," she says, anguish in her eyes.
Guilt and regret laces my tone as I utter, "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Me too," she says with a long sigh.
I decide to talk with the old woman for the rest of plane ride to give her some company. I think that at this point I'm being too officious, but from time to time, she smiles warmly at me. An hour and a half later, the pilot announces that we're about to land.
I help the woman adjust her seat back into the upright position and I do the same. I close the window next to me, realizing that I haven't gazed at the clouds or the glittering cities below. Right now, it doesn't matter. I've made this woman smile, even though she's going through a tough time. Happiness is more than just staring at fluffy white puffs in the sky.
"You're a sweetheart," she says with an endearing tone. "And young and handsome. Are you married?"
The question hits me like a truck, but I manage a weak smile. "No, ma'am," I answer abruptly.
"I wonder why a charming guy like you isn't being chased after a few beautiful ladies." Her breath hitches as the plane dips forward.
"Are you okay?" I ask her in a worried tone. She doesn't answer as she blankly stares at the seat in front of her.
"This is how he died." Her gaze shifts downwards to the picture in her lap. "He was on his way to visit me. He stayed in Minnesota for quite awhile to spend time with our children and their new families. Just as the plane he was on landed, he had a heart attack which took his life away. They didn't have enough time. They told me, 'We're sorry, Madame. Your husband's dead.' No emotion, no sympathy - nothing!" She is raising her voice now, catching attention of some people around us. "They didn't have enough time," she repeated. "Or so they said." Her voice becomes soft again as she looks up into my eyes. "He's in heaven now. He'll live a happy life, where there are people who'd actually care."
"I care," I croak. The woman seems so... hurt. Lost. Empty. Angry.
"You are a sweetheart," she mutters, relaxing in her chair. My stomach churns by the movement of the plane lowering itself to the ground. Once the wheels make impact with the ground, my knuckles turn a light shade of tan as I grab the armrests. If I wasn't wearing my seat belt as instructed, I would have slammed right into the seat in front of me.
"Finally," I breathe out, relieved that the plane ride has ended. It seemed to go by fast. I pull up the cover of the window and look outside at the melting snow laying on the ground. Meanwhile, the people on the takeoff lanes are busy moving carts with luggage; others hold bright green flags to indicate to the pilot where to stop the plane; and a last group is checking the wheels of another plane, making sure they work properly. All the workers are clad in a neon yellow-green vest. They also wear headphones, which I think must be used to block out all the plane noises surrounding them.
A few minutes later, I help the old woman get her suitcase before getting my own. I make sure she's okay before everyone files out of the airplane. She assures me that she's fine, but I decide to keep watch of her until her ride arrives.
That sounds weird.
Since we just got off of the plane, we have to walk a good ten minutes until we reach the lobby, where dozens of people wait anxiously for their loved ones to come. Some hold signs, others hold flowers; they laugh, smile, and cry. It's simultaneously unusual and amazing how so many emotions are in an airport. Who would have thought that people would cry at a place where people get on and get off planes?
I spot Hafsa and Luqman in the crowd. Hafsa, being her crazy self, waves frantically at me. I hold up a finger to indicate that I need her to wait for a second. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she looks between me and Luqman.
"Is your ride here, ma'am?" I inquire to the old woman.
She tightens the grip on the handle of her suitcase. "No. I told my son to come-"
"Mom! What are you doing talking to him?" a man interrupts her. He's young, with brown locks and grey eyes. There's no doubt that the man is her son. She shakes her head before she chuckles and motions his son over, albeit he was striding towards us anyways.
"Son, this wonderful man kept me company during the flight. So kind and so gentle. May God bless him," she praises me.
My eyes dart to her son who's eyes narrow at mine. I shift from foot to foot, wishing that he'd stop staring at me. "It was nothing, really."
"Mom, let's go. I don't want you talking to some terrorist radical." He eyes me carefully before taking his mother's hand roughly.
I open my mouth to speak, but the woman beats me to it. "Terrorist radical?" shs reiterates. She takes off her purse. "Terrorist radical?" The guy, obviously bewildered, lowers her arm in an attempt to calm her down. His attempts are futile. She thwacks him on the head and hits him with his purse. I hear laughter, and I look around at everyone snorting and giggling; even those who were sad just minutes ago. Hafsa and Luqman are trying their best not to bend down in laughter.
"Ah! Mom!" he says, blocking himself with his arms. "Stop!"
"Don't... you... dare... call... him... that," she says between swings. I bite on my lip, afraid that if I even chuckle for one second, the guy will lunge at me. We finally part ways and bid each other goodbye while she holds on to his ear. He staggers behind her while glaring at me. I grin at him, making him more enraged. I chuckle to myself as I head over to my sister and her husband.
"Okay, what was that?" Hafsa asks as she wipes away at the corners of her eyes, smiling.
I shrug. "He called me a radical, so she decided to beat him up with her purse publicly. It's not everyday you see something like that." She nods in agreement before enveloping me in a bear hug. I greet Luqman and we do that manly nod thing before leaving the airport and entering his car. I put my suitcase in the trunk before getting inside the back seat. Hafsa sits in the passenger seat while Luqman sits in the driver's seat.
"So, are you nervous?" Hafsa asks me.
"Nervous? I'm terrified," I tell her.
"Stop fidgeting," she orders before I realize that myself. I try to compose myself but it's almost impossible, knowing that there's a possibility my parents will disagree with what I'll propose to them soon.
For the rest of the ride, the three of us talk about whatever comes to our minds - but when Hafsa utters the word 'marriage', I immediately changed the topic. If I didn't, Hafsa would have been teasing me about it, especially after what I've told her.
As soon as Luqman pulls up to the familiar driveway of my family's house, I instantaneously leave the car and get my suitcase from the trunk. I open the door, which, for some reason, is unlocked. "I'm home!" I shout into the empty house, but no one answers. I leave my suitcase in the foyer and find a note attached to the table in the living room.
It reads:
Come to the hospital to see Kayla. Quick. I tried to call you but you didn't answer, so I assumed you were on your flight at the time. Anyways, just go! She's... just come and see for yourself.
- Ali
My eyes widen before I break out into a run. Luqman and Hafsa are both at the door. Hafsa searches my eyes and knows there's something wrong, so she asks me softly. "It's Kayla... she's in the hospital again. We have to hurry. Come on!"
The next thirty minutes pass by agonizingly as I pray to Allah that she's fine. I think about the different scenarios running around through my head. How did she end up in the hospital? It couldn't have been caused by pneumonia. It's getting warmer nowadays. I rack my brain as I think of something that might give me a hint as to why she's in the hospital. I can call, but I'm too afraid to hear the news. I want to know, but at the same time, I don't.
Luqman advises me to let Allah take things in His own hands as He wills. Hafsa rubs my back in a soothing way. Before we set off to go to the hospital, she decided to sit next to me to help me calm down.
I hate this. I don't like breaking down in front of anyone, even if it's my sister. It makes me look invulnerable and feeble.
My mind turns nebulous and murky. I'm only thinking negative, dark, pessimistic thoughts which I don't normally think. How about if thatguy harassed her? She mentioned him a few times, but it seemed she didn't really want to talk about it. My knuckles grow a light shade as I clench my fists. If he's involved in any of this, he'll regret even looking at her.
Kayla hasn't really mentioned much about anyone else except Zahra, although she's in Florida. I have a feeling more people torment her. I wish that I've realized this sooner.
"We're here, Harun." Hafsa spreads out my fingers on both hands so I won't clench my fists again. She also wipes away tears on my face that I didn't realize were there. I've cried? I don't care. I only care about Kayla's condition right now.
I take a shaky breath as I leave the car. Hafsa watches me warily as I lead them to the hospital. I go up to the lady at the reception and ask for Kayla. She seems familiar... Maybe she's the same person who was here when Kayla was hospitalized due to her pneumonia. I ask for Kayla, trying to look neutral. Her lips are in a thin, grim line as she informs us about her. "She recently suffered a minor concussion. She'll need to be checked, and along with that, I'm afraid she'll have some stitches sewn." She signs three little slips of paper and writes something on each. She hands each of us a slip.
"Room twelve C." We leave, but she calls me back and says, "She'll be fine, as long as you're here."
I manage a weak smile and prepare myself to see Kayla.
***
As we make our way to Kayla's room, I spot Ali at the other end of the hallway. He catches my eye and he strides towards us. Surprisingly, worry is etched onto his face, no scowl visible. "It's b-bad," he says shakily. He doesn't say anything else as we follow him to the room.
I'm the last to enter. My parents and my siblings are huddled over the hospital bed. They all look up at me simultaneously. I exchange greetings with my parents out of respect and approach the bed. They hesitantly take a step back to leave me some room. My mom holds on to my hand, a wistful expression on her face.
The beeping of the machines only makes this worse. I look at her face - at first, she seems fine, but once I look up to her bandaged head, I suck in a breath. She must have been bleeding from her head, and the pain must have been unbearable. Since her head is bandaged, I don't know the physical condition of it, but from what I can tell, she suffered a lot. A big crimson spot bleeds through the white wraps of bandage.
Despite her head, Kayla seems peaceful, as though nothing has happened. A mechanical ventilator is hooked up right beside her. A tube leading from it extends all the way to her mouth to help her breathe normally, pushing air in and out. Her face is awfully and unusually pale, yet she still seems peaceful.
"How long?" I ask, my question vague.
"Two days," Ali replies quietly. "The doctors say she'll get deeper into her coma if she doesn't recover soon. Maybe a month at least."
"Why so long?"
He sighs as he looks me in the eye, seriousness in his eyes. "She was injected with a powerful sleep syrum. It must have been too much for her body that her brain told her to shut down. Usually, sleep syrums take only hours to wear off, but..." he trails off, silence temporarily settling in the room.
My mom finally breaks down, letting go of my hand. She cries until her face is red and blotchy with tears. It tears me apart to see her in so much pain. Hafsa envelopes her, rubbing her back soothingly. Hafsa's usually the sympathetic one in the family, aside from me. She always tries her best to comfort all of us. But now, as she hugs our mother, she's on the verge of tears as well.
"I think we have to go now," my father says as he wipes away my mom's and sister's tears. "We'll come back to check up on her tomorrow." We all nod solemnly. Everyone files out of the room, with the exception of myself. I look at the folded piece of paper on the nightstand next to Kayla's bed. In untidy handwriting, it reads Nick. I've heard the name somewhere, and Kayla mentioned him a few times...
Maybe he was just a random guy from school or something. I shrug it off, and after taking one last look at Kayla's pale face, I close the door behind me with a thud.
***
Thank you for your patience. I appreciate it.
If you've hadn't noticed, my updates are taking longer than usual and they're getting shorter. I'm sorry for the insufficient amount of pages I leave you to read. I just can't find time to sit down for at least an hour or so to myself and write. I'm crossing my fingers that I pass my classes this semester. I need to focus on my classes, but at the same time, I want to update regularly.
So how about if I publish the first chapter of my new book? I planned on posting it on the anniversary of OUAM, but its to you guys to decide.
Thanks again for being so patient and cooperative.
Oh! And, if I have any typos from now on, let me know! I'd appreciate it.
Assalamu Alaykum and have a nice day. :)