.... it crumpled on the floor into a ball of white paper, no strings of letters or numbers to speak of and that was the only evidence out of the whole world that something inside of me felt broken......


4. PART 3

With a flick of his thumb, the lighter was set alive. A dazzling blue flame illuminated the alleyway, which only a few seconds ago, was engulfed in darkness. The light reflected in Haris's eyes as he smiled.

''Cool, ain't it?''

I had no idea how to respond. My lips turned drier than a desert and my brain was blank with shock and horror, so I just nodded. My head felt heavier. Haris was holding a lighter. Haris was holding A LIGHTER. Does he smoke? Something what my parents had told me over the last couple of months finally clicked into place. Maybe they were right. Maybe he is a bad influence. He shoved the lighter into my hands.

'' Have a go.'' He encouraged....


I woke up instantly. My heart beating so fast it could break my ribs, my shirt stuck to my back because of sweat. I sat up in bed. I never had much sleep. I was too busy celebrating the victory me and Haris had won on instagram. Haris made all my haters shut up almost instantly- I felt giddy then. Giddy and excited. I found it hard to sleep- but thanks to that memory, I had just woken up- AGAIN. The incident of the lighter had occurred a few weeks ago, but had been haunting my nights ever since.Not that I was affected by it- much. 

'I trust Haris' I told myself, just in case a doubtful side of me said otherwise.

'Do I?' I asked myself.

' Yes I do. He is like a brother to me' I responded, realizing I was speaking to myself. I got out of bed and went down stairs to freshen up, whilst glancing at the time. 6:05. I entered the kitchen to get a glass of water. Turning the tap to get a good flow without any splashing, I watched the water fill up the glass, then took a long gulp of the cold drink, letting some drip off the sides of my lips and onto my shirt..

'Are you sure he is your brother? You are not related and dont even live in the same house.'

'But we live on the same road' I replied, dropping the glass in the sink and making my way back to my bedroom. It might sound crazy, but it is actually comforting to talk to someone in your mind, even if it is yourself. At least no one can judge your imaginary-self, and accuse them of being a bad influence and cause a huge drama out of it without looking at your perspective. I got back in bed, but Myself wouldnt let me sleep, no matter how hard I try to close my eyes.

'But that doesnt mean you are brothers....'

'It was a metaphor. Honestly- sometimes I am so dumb' I muttered, pulling the duvet over my head.

'Don't be so hard on myself. I am just really misunderstood'

'How?' I asked, even though I knew the answer.

'I'm different. They haven't even met Haris and are willing to judge him based on your mosque teacher's opinions'

I didn't reply.

'My parents always say that I am their best child and that they trust me' Myself continued,' But they obviously dont trust me enough to approve my judgements or even make my own friends.'

My eyes began to well up- not because I was sad- but because it was true.

'Am I crying?'

I could not tell- because oh, look at that my cheeks have gone numb and I cant feel any tears falling down them.











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