Chapter 1:
She sensed someone watching her. Someone sitting on the rocking chair against her bed, swinging and continuously watching her. She tried to move her neck and see who it was, but her neck wouldn't move. The 'someone' kept swinging on the chair, watching her.
Then she heard footsteps. The night was so dark and silent, that she could feel someone approaching towards her. She tried scooting out of her bed, but she wouldn't move. She wanted to ask if there was someone, who was it, but her mouth wouldn't move. The 'someone' pacing towards her, and crawling above her paralyzed body. Slowly, and quickly. Her arms were pinned to her side and her lips wouldn't move.
That someone touched her in an unexpected way. Felt in an unexpected place. But she was locked. She was imprisoned. She couldn't move. She wanted to scream. She was scared. She was sweating. But the 'someone' hovered over her face. A monster caked with ravishing threat; an empty face with two brown melting eyes on it. The demon sat on her chest, stared at her with melting eyes. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere. Everywhere except for her chest. Her Breath stuck in the lungs. She would have pushed him away but the power of the demon, the stare of the demon was paralyzing her.
Demon's hand went back slowly to his back while he hovered his scary face above hers. She could hear a lot of screams. Including the scream of her silence. The demon brought his hand up high and a sharp blade shone in the moonlight. Her eyes widened. She didn't want to die. The demon brought the blade forth with the speed of light-
She woke up with a hand over her mouth. She looked at her hands and moved them in circles to see if they were working. It was still dark and she was panting a lot. She pushed her blanket to the side and flipped her feet in her slippers walking slowly with baby steps towards the kitchen. Her face was pale and she looked ill. Purple eye bags beneath her eyes made her look weaker.
She stomped her hand over the wall finding the switchboard. She switched open the pale lamp of the kitchen. She felt a knock on the door and she twisted her neck towards the door in an instant. There was no one. Tears started dripping down her cheek to her neck. She was scared. With wet eyes, she poured the cold water from the fridge and galloped the whole of it together. Taking a number of deep breaths, she calmed herself. Though the fear remained there. She kept cocking her head everywhere to make sure no one was there. Coming back from her kitchen to her room was a very long route to cover. Her body was shaking and she was scared. When she laid down on her mattress, her lips were seen moving. She was reading something. Past four years have been haunting her in her dreams. And this was the first time she had sleep paralysis. Nightmares hit differently. Soon, the sleep overcame the exhaustion she has been carrying for four years.
It was an easy Munich morning. Bavaria was always soft and white for her. Even if the nightmares were bloodthirsty. She yawned and took the blanket off. Looking here and there, she made sure it was morning and safe. Her messed-up hair looked like overcooked macaroni. She tied them with her black pony band and removed the curtains. The outside was white. That day, like all the other days, wind blew when you shatter the window glass. The daily struggle and the everyday hardworking noises. She felt relaxed and hopeless at the same moment. It was the same day. Nothing has changed, the way it should in fairytales when you try to open your eyes to a new life. No one knew the storm that destroyed her last night.
She walked towards the huge reflection of herself and expected no change in her brown hair and sweat shirts and PJs. She was still the same 16 year old Minha. Minha Qureshi.
Has been so long since she smiled at that. She walked slowly to her bed drawer and took out the frame. A young woman with the same brown hair and striped shirt hovering her arm over a good-looking man with dark brown hair. They both were smiling and that smile looked relaxed. Happy. And satisfied. Most of all, complete.
With the hurling of winds and falling of snow, her eyes dropped down to the page. There was a boy with the hair and eyes of his father and smile of his mother hovering his arms over his sister. Minha Qureshi. She took the farme closer to her face and kissed the captured moment.
The other end of the picture was torn. Just the perfect size to cut out something. The soft face returned to its luminous anger and she kept the frame back into its place, drinking her anger. She needed to move on. It has been four full years. Four full years.
Dressed in a knee high maroon shirt and black jeans, a black muffler around her neck, she unfolded her black leather jacket and clipped her hair back. Fixing her blonde wig above her brown hair and putting on some pinky white makeup, she looked like a Munich resident. Picking up her phone she left for school. Another rough day. Like all the other rough days.
"One vegetable roll please." She said walking towards the counter of the bakery. Trying to sound normal. It was only her who knew that she was scared walking on these banks. Afraid that someone would come from behind and kill her. She wasn't afraid of dying, she was afraid of the pain she'd face. She jerked away the thought.
"Oh, Jesus. You are early today! Here, prepared these rolls for you." An old lady with grey strips of hair, wearing an old, and torn brown colored apron above a green and white Munich dirndl. She held out her hand to the blonde girl with vegetable cheese rolls.
"Oh God. Not you offering me two rolls with half the price again." She muttered, quietly. She was always careful while taking favors. "Ah, You and your rules. Did you eat last night?" she asked, anxiously. Minha was growing skinnier every day, skipping meals, and working all day. Gran knew she would lie. Minha has been living in the above apartment for the last four years and has never opened up about herself. Gran was worried about her. She always has been.
"Yeah, I did." She lied. Gran sighed. She was helpless in front of Minha's ambivert behavior.
The cute grey cat crawled and started cuddling around Minha's legs. "Howdy, Gale. Whassup?'' She kissed the cat's face softly and started playing with her. The affection of this cat recalled a lot of sad moments in her mind. She jerked them away, wiping the dry tears.
The winds were blowing. The nearby town houses were quiet. Early mornings in Munich were smooth and quiet. The rustling of leaves swishing with the wind, wet snow falling down above them. And there she was smiling and looking satisfied. Talking to a grey cat like all other days. Like all other teenagers.
Little did she know that that day was not like other days? Little did she know that that day was the beginning of her story?
"Min? Is that you?" someone called out. The snow kept falling and the trees kept swinging with the dry wind. The bakery she was standing in was as warm as it could be in winters. And Gale kept licking her hand with the same affection. And she knew the voice. The voice she has been running for since the last four days. A voice she dreaded more than her own fears. The soothing voice of Rohail. She stood up slowly, pinning her hair strand back behind her left ear. Turning around she looked at him. The world seemed to be grey all of a sudden. She managed to speak one word only. "Yeah."
The guy smiled. "Omg, look at you. All grown up! I was looking for you everywhere! How are you?" He came closer to her but she kept standing there, still not being able to look him in the eye. The last past years had made it hard for her to look someone directly in the eye. And she did that when she was nervous. "Huh. Nervous to meet an old pal?" How in the world did he know she was nervous?
"Just a little shocked to meet you a little suddenly." she said, trying to hide her pursed lips and nail biting habit.
"Good. Were you heading to school?" She shook her head, still not making eye contact.
"I'll drop you. Come on."
"No, I am good. Thanks." She didn't want to directly refuse him but he should have known about the strange relationship between them. But he insisted and she accepted the offer. This will be the first and last time I meet him in my city. She thought. Little did she know that she was going to be proved wrong soon? The gran handed her the roll and she paid her while moving beside Rohail.
They both walked to the black sports car and Rohail opened up the front seat for Minha. Maybe this day is not like all other days. She thought. She unpacked her vegetable cheese roll and started eating. While he drove silently beside her with a smile plastered on his face.
Their last meeting has not been good and she was not expecting to see him again after she misbehaved. But she wasn't responsible for everything that happened. It wasn't her fault. It was someone else's. She was caught in an emotional spirit. After all, losing someone isn't as brave as it could have been for someone who didn't care.
"So, you are 15 now. What are your interests in school? Most teenagers want to sit back and watch the toppers gain the charm of teachers. Where do you fall?" he asked, knocking her out of her thoughts. She could sense him looking at her, but she couldn't just look at him. She decided to not feel guilty but she could sense it losing.
"Nothing much. I am in the school's art team." She replied shortly.
"Wow, an artist. Do you like to go to some art club or something?" for an instant, she felt something strange as if the question was meant to be inquisitive. She galloped the bite and pursed her lips.
"Nopes." She lied. She couldn't trust her sister's best friend. Or maybe fiancé.
"So what do you do during the day?" he asked. The same calming and comforting voice she fell for. She bit her lip and thought about her answer. Talking has never been her thing for the last four years.
"School work." Precise.
"Do you live alone?" That started worrying her. Why was he asking so much? She cocked her head and looked out of the window to let him know she didn't want to talk. He sighed beside her.
"I have been trying to contact you since the last few days. Can I get your contact number?"
"Why do you need my contact number?" The question was quick.
"So that we can stay in touch." he made it sound so obvious, that she sighed deeply.
"Look Rohail. Go back to where you came from." She crunched the paper bag of the roll in her hands to control her emotions. She pursed her lips so tight, they went white. But she still couldn't look him in the eye.
"Why do you want that? I am worried about you."
"Worried about me? You think I am going to believe that? For God's sake, Rohail. Go back. I don't need you." She could hardly say brittle things to him. The soft corner never faded for him in her heart, but his painting had already been crowded by spider's web. A very old spider web that wasn't clean for decades and was still delicate enough to break from a slight jerk.
"She misses you. She is in pain. Don't do that to her."
"She? It's still her? Why don't you see it without her? You found me when you needed me. When she needed me. Why in so many years, Rohail? Why even? Just go back to where you came from. I don't want any of you again in my life. You both ruined me." She wiped the salt drop of pain rolling down her dry cheeks.
"Minha, I know it's been hard for you. You disappeared. We tried to find you, but we couldn't and the misunderstanding you have created within yourselves is eating her alive. Please. Don't separate yourself from her." He begged.
She looked him in the eye for the first time. His brown eyes were tired and pleading. Hopeless. His brown hair falling on his forehead. For a second, she found the same Rohail she did who used to make her cry and who could make her laugh. One who could bring the sisters together, the one who could wipe the injuries and bandage them? But also the one who could shout at her, and tell her she is mean, selfish and heartless. The one who's eyes went undetermined in the dark when Minha slapped him on the face. The one who was shocked and was broken. The one she lost. He lost Minha too. He forgot her. He cared for her sister. And he showed up for her sister too. Their friendship meant something more to Minha, but he ignored it. How can she get back to what they have been?
"I am sorry, Rohail. You guys mean nothing to me." She galloped a hard sentence. And tried to look up at him. He looked away. The car stopped. She gazed out of the window. Fellowship kinder high school. She looked into her purse and took out Dairy milk she bought yesterday. "Thanks for driving me to school." And she left. Minha Qureshi went lost in the midst of the world again.