The graduates were having their convocation to mark an official end to their four years journey.
Mirha wanted to stay as far away from the garden as was possible, for she knew everybody was there, everyone she didn't want to see, and the only person who wasn't there, she wasn't sure she could bear his absence, if she so much as took a peek at the ceremony.
Just getting free from her English class, she took a turn to the restroom, low voices from the garden reaching to her from over the mic, even all the way up to the second floor. She was about to push open the door, when someone called her name. Turning around she let go of the knob.
"Hey, Mirha," it was a guy, she recognized as her batchmate, whose name she couldn't remember, "you're called down to the reception desk."
"Now?"
"Yup, right now." He grinned.
"But I was just," she pointed hesitantly at the washroom door.
"If it can wait, you better hurry up. It's just a form they want you to sign."
"Okay." Mirha gave a slight nod, and turned to go as she added, "thank you."
"No problem." He smiled, and added as an afterthought, "you took stc from Hadi Maher, right?"
She tensed at his name. "Yes, but why do you ask?"
He shrugged. "Just wondering. You heard about his friend though? Had something going on with him too, right?"
Mirha clenched her jaw, as her heart gave a loud thud. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I was just saying. Heard from someone you went to a party with Hadi, the two of them had a fight after you left. So . . . anyway I'll see you around."
Without another word, Mirha walked out, her ears burning and went striding towards the admin block.
It was the scholarship program form she was needed to sign. They wanted confirmation that she still needed it. She hurried with it and ran straight to the washroom that was on the left of the block, also reserved for the visitors.
When done, she was about to push the door open when she heard a familiar voice entering the room.
"It's okay, it's okay, Sasha." It was Leila.
Mirha held her breath. She didn't want to run into them.
Sasha sniffed. "I'm sorry. It's just - it's not easy. Being there, out with everyone, in our bloody convocation. I keep glancing back on his empty chair. They didn't have to do that." She sobbed. "They shouldn't have reserved him a seat. It's just making it more difficult."
"I know. I know, it's hard." Leila said, her voice soft, "but we have to go through this. All of us. And we have to be there for Hadi. We have to help him out. If you're going to break-"
"Why?" Sasha whined. "Why Leila. Why would Bilal do this?"
"I don't know." She said and her voice broke, "I don't know. It's driving me crazy. Something was bothering him and none of us were there for him."
"Hadi-"
"No, he wasn't. He doesn't say anything, that's how I know he wasn't. After what happened at the party that night, he wasn't talking to Bilal. He was mad at him, for-"
"It's because of her." Sasha interjected, her tone full of loathing for the person in question, "it's because of that bitch Mirha Qadeer, if she hadn't been-"
"It's not," Leila sighed, "you know that Sasha. If Bilal's death has anything to do with what happened that night, then it's our fault. Hadi was right, it was our responsibility to stop the guys from acting their plan out. It was rape, Sasha, that we helped them with. What could we do if someone thought that way for us."
"Please, not now. Please, it's hardly the time for guilt. Loss is enough, Leila" Sasha said, sounding tired.
There was a pause. The only sound that pierced the silence was the thudding of Mirha's heart.
"And to think Hadi was actually in love with her." Leila spoke up.
Mirha's hand went up to her mouth. Her blood ran cold.
"I wish there was something I could do for him. First he loses Mirha - I saw them in the garden before you ask how I know that, he said something to her, and then she left - and then he loses Bilal. Maybe we could talk to her, you know-"
"Oh for heaven's sake, please Leila. It's not the right time. And she would be the last person he'd need right now."
"He doesn't hate her like you, Sasha. You don't know what he wants."
"Maybe, but-"
"For crying out loud, what are you two doing here?" Someone interrupted, stomping in, "Were you girls crying?"
"No, it's nothing, professor." Leila said.
"You left the ceremony, I thought - is it about your friend?"
"We're fine." Sasha breathed. "Let's go."
When the three of them left, Mirha came out of the washroom, taking small uneven steps, weak at knees.
Life surely was unfair.
---
It was the last time she heard Hadi's name. Everything was quiet and serene after that, dull and monotone. She worked at the office, hard and with full focus, then studied all night until she'd be exhausted, following Hadi's way of teaching.
Modules assigned to the sophomore year were comparatively a little harder, but she managed to get an A in all of it. She wasn't capable of getting A1, Mirha knew after the result of the first one. But she was happy, content with her achievement.
Keeping her mind off from Hadi was a real challenge, she often found herself thinking about him, followed by a heavy sinking in her heart. But she needed to focus on her studies, and it was that, the need to succeed, that she began to think less and less about him. Forgetting him completely was out of the question. You don't forget people who ever made you nervous, were ever the cause of your racing heart, ever told you that you were safe with them, or even held your hands. Even if for once, even if they were there for only a few moments. You can't forget them.
People talked about Bilal for a month, and after that you wouldn't know he had committed suicide and was no more. Life is a hectic survival, it needs moving on after every tragedy. Only the fit survive. It's as busy as the rush hour traffic, especially in the evening when offices get off. You're mostly moving, you stop for a moment, you move again, and not necessarily at the same time as the others. Everyone gets their own space.
Third year came and went. No friends, no one to talk to. Mirha was growing quiet, not finding the need to talk at all. It wasn't easy to approach a person so far from you whenever you wanted. They can't always be free for you, and when they are, it's not really the time for you. The closer she had been to her sister, the more distant she grew with time. Checking in was all they did, sometimes only twice a week.
Fourth year was the toughest of all. Work, module exams, vivas, and the project she was working on. All of it kept her busy. The project was an idea she was subjected to late one night, when she was unable to sleep.
Something that could make it possible to write without the manual effort that it requires. A pen maybe, or a machine that writes on the paper with a projection that sprays drops of ink on it, forming the letters of the word you spoke to it.
She spent hours in the library for its program, deleting and then rewriting entire lines time and again.
By the end of the year, she had enough money saved to get her sister into the college and take a small apartment on rent in the city to move her family. She still needed the money every month so she didn't resign from her job, and took admission for a major in Software Programming, working on her project side by side.
Her brothers were now in their final year of high school so they stayed in the village, now old enough to take care of themselves, while their uncle shifted into the new house to stay with the girls.
---