Chapter 6 (Diary)

                                    

                                          
Author's note:- As you know it is an Islamic story, I included the meaning and words of Azaan in this chapter.
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I was at the doorstep while my hands were still on the door knob. I couldn't decide whether to go in or not.
Father and Zulfi soon came in and seeing me still on the door they followed the line of my vision when I felt someone intertwined their fingers with mine and I can sense it is Zulfi. She does it whenever she thinks I need support.
She led me inside while my legs were just being dragged forcefully. 
Sensing our presence in the hallway, my mother turned around, her expression filling me with dread.
"You came back" 
Her statement was directed towards me; I could tell because she was looking in my direction, though my gaze was fixed on her hands.
Her sudden movement made my eyes follow her feet as she approached me.
"Did you think we will never know? How long? For how long you are going to stress us all?" Her anger filled voice reached me and my senses went numb.
"What did you answer me 3 months ago when I asked you about your health. Huh?" I know where exactly this conversation is heading.
And I don't want to talk about it. 
"Didn't you say you were alright and didn't need any medical help now?" 
Each of her words was weakening me where I stood. My hands clutched Zulfi's hand more tightly. I hold back a sob that was trying to come out and express what I am trying to hide inside.
"Didn't you say that you are not mentally ill anymore?" 
Her words pierced my heart deeply.
Mentally ill.
Yes, that's what I am for them.
Mentally ill.
"Then what is this?  Explain this to me Farah" she said while holding her hands up so that I can see the thing she was holding as if I didn't see it already.
The Diary.
She is holding my Diary.
My hope.
My comfort.
My companion.
"EXPLAIN IT TO ME FARAH" She suddenly shouted while slamming the diary on the nearby table, making me let go of Zulfi's hand and clutch my ears.
My tears that I am trying to hold back flows uncontrollably.
"Stop it, Ammi, she is not fine" I heard Zulfi's voice attempting to defend me.
"THAT'S WHAT I WAS SAYING TOO, THAT SHE IS NOT FINE. DON'T STOP HER TREATMENTS"
She is not controlling her anger. She is not even trying. She knows that I hate loud noises.
Still, she was shouting.
'please don't shout........ please...... please'
That's what I want to say but my voice was long gone.
I can't open my mouth or move my tongue.
My throat suddenly felt dry. 
A terrible thought crossed my mind. What if she rips the pages of my diary again like she did previously.
I can't let it happen.
Please don't do this. 
"LET HER TALK. WHY IT IS SO HARD TO TALK TO US? WHY FARAH WHY? THAT YOU HAVE TO MAKE UP AN IMAGINARY MAN AND MAKE YOURSELF MENTALLY SICK? WHY?"