Imad
"I am your cousin. My name is Zara Adel," She introduced herself and sat across me, her demeanor impassive and soft. Shifting in her gaze were curiousness and pursuit.
"I don't recall a cousin by that name," I said.
"We've never met," She replied casually. "Yet I know more about you than you know about me."
"I am intrigued. Like what?" I asked her, daring her claim.
"Your parents died when you were young and you were raised by your uncle and a woman called Layla. Your uncle married this woman and birthed twins, named Amal and Anisa. Layla died in a car crash in..."
"Stop. You've proven yourself. What do you want from me?" I cut her off and spoke.
"I apologize. It's a sensitive topic, I should have been more mindful," she replied. "To answer your question. Whether you believe it or not, I am here to get in touch with family, which includes you."
"Why now?" I asked her.
"My father was reluctant towards introducing me to his family. I always wondered why and now I that I am old enough... well you get it."
"I suppose I do. Although, I am sure your father had his reasons. Does he know you are here? Going against him."
"He doesn't, but he raised a head strong woman. I am sure he would understand my reasons, when the time comes."
"And an inquisitive one too. How did you find me Zara?"
"Your manager," She replied, short and concise.
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to be acquainted with you. Since you know so much about me it's only fair, I get to know you ," I replied, and drank the fresh juice I ordered.
"Maybe some other time," She said as she stood up. "I am running late."
"Other cousins to meet?"
"Well my grandma actually," She said and smiled. She paced towards the exit, like she had no time to spare.
I watched her walk away, her voice kept on ringing in my head, like an echo. She definitely left an impressionable mark on me. I wondered what she did, who she is as a person and when I would see her again. After she said she knew me, I froze momentarily - I believed that she had seen right through the facade I put on. That she was going to call me out, and weird enough I wanted her to call me out. I am not a good guy...
Zara is a beautiful woman, among other qualities that she flaunted in the brief time we conversed, for instance her willful yet demure personality. Her brown hair tied back, displaying her inimitable facial features and a pair of hazel orbs that were mesmerizing to look at. She has one of those faces you never forget, a distant memory perhaps, but never forgotten. Normally, I would be mad at Danny for giving out my location. It's not the first time he's done this. But she's claims to be family. I'll have to do my own research on her. Maybe she is.
Amal
"Amal, Amal," I heard the faint voice of my therapist call out, like a distance voice, that managed to deflect me from the thoughts. I looked at her. "What are you thinking about?" She asked, I retained my silence.
"Okay well. You have been here for..." She looks at the watch on her wrist, "For about thirty minutes and you haven't said much. You know that this can't work unless you open up and speak your feelings." I stared at her and nodded, biting my lower lip and nervously fidgeting with my fingers.
"Amal a few months ago, you came to my office and said you needed help. I need you to think of that reason and..."
"I am sorry," I said, interrupting her and gulped.
"You don't need to be sorry Amal. I just want the sessions we have to actually help you." She looks at me and smiles.
"My family," I mumbled. She managed to hear me and responded:
"What about them?"
"I miss my family." I watched her write something in her note book, and continued speaking once she had stopped writing. "Sometimes I wake up thinking whatever has happened was all a dream, a fabrication of my worst nightmare. I feel this void in me, and whatever I do... And I know God has a plan, this is a test. But I feel hollow and whenever I come to these therapy sessions I feel like I am complaining and whining - because people have suffered worse than I have. That I am a bad Muslim, who doesn't understand that whatever happened was Allahs's plan. I feel shame, remorse, anger... these feelings I feel I can't control them they just come and I can't stop them." I stop talking, as I feel tears flow down my cheeks. Naya ( my therapist), hands me a box of tissue. I take one tissue and hold it, as I sensed more tears fall from my eyes.
"It's going to get better. And you're not a bas person for wanting to feel better. Firstly, Amal I want you to learn to not discredit your pain. What you went through might not be worse than what someone else has been through. Loss is still loss. Nonetheless it is your pain, it is still pain you feel it. It's your own. And whenever you come here and talk, you are bettering yourself. Healing yourself mentally, that is when you begin to understand yourself and be able to live with the experiences you have been and will go through. Your feelings however shouldn't always control you, and they're many ways of keeping yourself in control instead of letting emotion drive you - it's possible." I wiped my tears and took a deep breath in and exhaled. Feeling a bit hopeful. Naya continued to talk, advising me and showing me certain exercises to keep calm and level myself.
She said once I asses why I am a feeling a certain way, at a specific moment - I should learn to question it as I feel it. Not stop myself from being angry or sad, but asses it and find the reason and try to calm myself.
"I won't be able to explain why you specifically experienced what you experienced. I can't do that. I will however, help you to asses your feelings, face them and question them. I will help you understand the why in the emotions you feel and gradually if not be good, be okay with yourself," Naya explained further, concluding, once our sessions was over. I thanked her before I left her office and told her how much I appreciated her help. I felt somehow lighter. My heart didn't feel heavy. Just steady.
Walking out of the automatic exit door, I bump into a woman. She crossed my path, before I got the chance to stop. "Sorry," I said, and looked at her.
"No it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention," She replied.
"Zara?" I spoke, intrigued and stunned. "What a surprise?"
"Haha yah it is," She replied.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her, curiosity taking over.
"Just from meeting up with someone at the Cafe." She looked at her watch and then back at me. "I would love to talk and all. But I am getting late."
"Yeah of course," I said.
"Bye. I'll see you some other time," she said and left.
"Bye. Yes sure." I continued walking. Well she was in a hurry.
***
Thank you for reading. ♥️
Extremely sorry for the late update. I was busy with revision and I just recently finished my exams.