Malika Bashir had a darkened view of the world. Ibrahim Ahmad refused to see anything but the light.
Soon, a friend from the past appears at Ibrahim's doorstep and a mysterious set of letters are left in his bedroom. Old conflicts are raised and ne...
Hey, fam. It's been a while since I last heard from you. You didn't respond to me either on Whatsapp or Messenger. I'm starting to get worried. Are you okay, Salman? You seemed okay in your last Facebook photo. But I'm not. At all.
Please call me.
~Malika
Malika let out a deep sigh as she stared at the latest email she sent to her brother. She scrolled down the thread, every single message sent in the near past was from her.
She let out a sigh, lowered her phone and looked at her surroundings again. Malika was in the parking lot of York Academy waiting for her family car to pick her up. The area was significantly less crowded. She purposely requested for her ride to arrive a little later, just so she could avoid running into the majority of the student body.
A warm wind blew past her. Malika looked up at the clear sky. There was no hint of it, yet, she knew it was going to rain sometime this day. She could always smell rain in the air.
A familiar voice reached her from a distance. Malika froze in place. She whipped her head so fast to look in his direction that a sharp pain pierced her neck. She saw Imran step out of the school building, a couple of his buddies in toe. They were in the middle of an intense discussion.
Malika's first instinct was to hide. Her heart raced with fear as she looked around for a place to conceal herself. But she realized there was nowhere to go. She recalled the measures she had taken to avoid this moment, yet, it was unfolding. Malika couldn't believe her luck at times.
Imran's eyes had landed and locked on her. That ugly, malicious grin made its way on his face.
Malika kept her gaze elsewhere, hoping if she didn't give him attention he would leave. But she had learned a long time ago that life doesn't work like that.
Sharp whistles pierced the air, followed by perverted jeers.
"Look who it is, boys, our favorite whore," Imran said to them.
Terror captured her heart. She could feel them taking slow steps towards her, their violating eyes roaming all over her body. But these boys would be damned if she let them see her weakness. Malika kept her head high and face neutral, refusing to let them see her afraid.
"Who are you waiting for, honey?" one of the boys asked in a mocking tone. "Your next client?"
Cruel laughter and cheers elicited the air. Imran was now dangerously close to her, one more step and his body would be touching hers.
