I saw her before anything else, miles away, her frail fingers gripping the coniferous as painfully as her nails could tolerate. She was reflecting my horror, pure from oblivion.
I could hear her heart beat, each thud sensitively audible, such that it knocked the earth into unforeseen quakes. The vulnerable contagion echoed in heat towards me, its hefty weight pushing me back until I felt it.
It was overworking more than I've ever experienced in my life.
"Yes," I made out her mouth movement.
There was something of naive desperation in the way her eyes frail following it. A misery of patience falling onto its knees without precaution. I wanted to slit her.
Quick and painless.
My thoughts were acted out. Everything new, strange, bitter, but also sweet.
An unfolding; a revelation I only prayed to live and hear.
It was everything I wanted.
But everything can also be nothing. The uncertainty when knowing of the toxic, the heated poison that tethers between your fantasy and reality. Yet, you risk it.
I didn't want to risk it.
I flinched when the cup was rested in my palm. In instinct, I spilt it of all its anticipated contents.
"Aam, you okay?" His deep throated voice is the last I hear, a whispering of the bright blue sky that sways the green parades of tree leaves about.
And its all gone.
I rise off my pillow gasping in desperation for air, my hands gripping my throat for support. A warm moist emanates from my skin, the trail orphaned from my headache. I remain adjusting to the dark, it impregnating a comfort I am ecstatic still exists.
My old room, the valueless feed precipitating my nerves.
I grunt at the clock to a time I've come too familiar with: 3:00 am.
I rub at my eyes and follow my feet into the patio. The full moon peaks a friendly mould in an infinite sea of possibilities. My legs ache as I sit down, a restless head parting to the cloud's ashes.
I feel the energy from my body pass me by.
He came here.
He wanted this- us.
But my wariness has blossomed unjustly. I've become wholesomely perplexed into a form I wished didn't exist. I never expected this- this overthinking. I imagined everything the sun had to offer. But that's not what happened- I was paralyzed.
"So your going to leave me hanging?" His voice had thickened in offence. He was trying to tame it but it was there, the deterioration of his ego; the burning of its melt was hurting my nose.
I remember the raw numbness that overtook my lips, my eyes maintained in their daze. There were no words.
Because part of me is insanely and desperately fond of him, but another part tells me to walk away. To not become trapped by his charm and lies. To not commit to someone who probably doesn't know how to practice commitment. To not make as important a decision as wedding a man who has no obvious connection with faith, especially because of the distasteful practices he has involved himself in.
So I stayed quiet, staring at the one strand of his hair that befriended the winds pattern, its slow movement allowing me a hint of blood flow.
I couldn't control my body, it wouldn't move when I asked it to.
He stood, waiting for a reaction, his large specs of rich caramels absorbing in my hesitance. It was a fascination of the subject in a museum.
I moved my lips, but nothing.
Nothing.
I feel like part of my lie to Cici was prevalent fear. Fear of being with someone who fails to meet the expectations I have set out for him, fear of admitting to my feelings and then realizing the mistake. Or of registering that he is a beautiful person, but not the beautiful person for me.
"Aamirah?" I jump fragilely before welcoming mama's frown.
The warmth resonates with her as she slowly decides to join me.
"Weren't you sleeping?" I ask, my mind in a different dimension.
"I woke up for the bathroom and saw your balcony door open," she rubs at her knees before hugging them onto the chair, her years younger in this stance.
I form a smile before staring into space.
"You want to talk about it now?"
My heart returns to my mouth, it beating in rhythym with my quivering lips.
I dictate the hold around my legs, but allow my throat to suffocate by the air that holds us together.
"Did you know about Adam's coming here?" She raises her eyebrow.
I want to run, as far as my frozen legs would travel.
I feel the chair tighten its cushioning around me, its fibres adhering me in place. Theres a fire that clogs my throat, the parchment struggling its place in my mouth. I rub at my perspired palms and swallow my fear.
"Yes, I did."
It was the morning I had returned home. I hadn't slept. The bell had shaken my soul out of my body. I heard footsteps from mama's room so I let myself remain between sheets.
As soon as I heard Cici's voice followed by Adam's, my entire body prickled with a ghostly pain, the needles traveling around. I trembled in bed, trying to tame my heavy breathing so I could listen to everything. When all that was audible was low mumbling, I ran out of my room, careful not to step over the screaming limbs of the floor. Unfortunately, I saw my reflection in the mirror along the way; dry frizzled hair attacking the sides of my cheeks and my junior high pink pyjamas mama offered I wear since I hadn't brought anything from my apartment.
My ear stayed structured by the railway, my heart reverberating its noise against it.
"Do you want sugar in your tea?" I had heard mama's distant voice.
"No, just plain," Cici replied with a shake in her tone.
"Adam?"
"I'm fine thanks," his voice elevated in deep rhythm.
He hated tea.
The proposal had returned to me, its fresh air hinting at their arrival.
There was a leap in my mind towards a progression I never intended he'd make. It was too cliche for him. But he had come, like he said.
"I am going to ask your mum," he had challenged, the humour in his eyes taking away from its validity. He swallowed follow it, his hands playing with his hair. The discomfort was novel to him.
But he didn't lie.
After I heard plates being placed on the coffee table, mama started to serve them.
I remember chewing deeply into my cheek as I strained my ears.
"Adam, do you want coffee, water, juice?" She listed. I had made out her confusion towards their presence.
"No, I had coffee on the way here."
I only drink coffee when I haven't slept.
The strings around my heart tightened as I recalled his words.
A long pause birthed, the rattling of utensils. My fingers trembled against the railing, the mist of anxiety gradually overpopulating the entirety of my space.
"Sorry to wake you up Noor," Cici's voice had shifted.
"No, you are welcome anytime," mama had reassured but her voice still confided with uncertainty.
Mama's obsessive pull to over analyze everything had transmitted towards my place upstairs. I was sinking in the same boat she was in.
"We wanted to come by to talk to you about Aamirah."
Heart beat trembled to the moon, approaching Pluto.
"Oh?" Mama attempted to elaborate.
"You know I've always wanted Aamirah as a daughter," Cici continued. I felt my eyes welling.
Silence.
Too much of it and I felt like I was about to faint.
But it came out, too quick for my eyes.
"Adam wanted to ask you for Aamirah's hand," Cici's voice was buttered with the same glee as in the restaurant, the claustrophobic environment returning to me with it.
She'd said she respected my decision before I started university, but I was still unsure whether she had fully forgiven me yet.
"That's- wow," I remember being able to smell mama's unease, even from so far. There was no truth to her tone, too transparent of hesitance.
On cue, she had extended her comment.
"It it were up to me, I would say yes,"
Its like wind struck my abdomen, thick, yet caramelized- a warm blow.
I didn't think she would approve this fast. But it was the pressure, she was being crushed by a mountain. She almost had no choice.
"But I want to provide Aamirah with full autonomy."
"That is completely fair," I could hear Cici's fear. She already knew.
They eventually left after bloated casual conversation, their departure pulling me under my covers to comprehend the level of haste in this situation of past delay.
It was all happening, and I couldn't but help feel completely erratic.
Maybe I was never ready.
"Why didn't you tell me?" The upset sinks into the hollows floating under her eyes.
Contrary to my expectation, she didn't interrogate me on the subject at all. I was on edge all day yesterday , but nothing out of the ordinary happened.
'I didn't think it was going to follow through," I whisper into my knee, my eyes memorizing the vague details of the sky.
"Have you thought about an answer?" She exhales, the prominence of her wrinkles outline her forehead
"I am not sure," I waver quickly, my throat clogging up as I contemplate echoing my silent thoughts.
A first of firsts.
"But I like him," too soon, too fast. My face feels like its breaking into hives, fingers numb on the chair. I didn't want to look into her eyes.
"Oh," mama exhales.
"That's good then," she extends, her voice ballooned in surprise. I fidget in my seat, picking at my sleeves as it itches my skin.
"I'm just worried it will interfere with your goals," She nudges the truth that clouds my decision.
"I know," I let the wind steal my breath.
