AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" (That's Sahar; screaming in terror)
Her feet felt numb and she fell there on her knees. Thankfully, she had a strong constitution which saved her from falling faint. Her Ma never heard anything as he was gone to pay her regards to the family next door, er, in this case, next-to-front door.
"Why are you screaming?" The voice asked.
"Who is there?" she cried, " Please leave me. I haven't even confessed to Sameer. Plus, I am not tasty."
"Hey, Calm down. I am a human. Also, a very curious one who wanted to know who moved in?"
"Are you sure, Please leave me alone." She pleaded. "Stop saying anything."
A strange silence followed.
She heaved a sigh of contentment and murmured, " I need to get this hole repaired."
"No! Don't report it. Never." The voice screamed.
" Why shouldn't I?" Sahar asked, surprised.
" Because this is the only place we get to hang out at. And if you report this hole. They may never let us enter here. This abandoned building had been ours, ever since that day." The voice said in a soft, low voice.
" Fine, I will not. Since you are saying so. But don't ever do that again." She commanded.
When Mrs Suleyman arrived, she was ecstatic. She had a habit of making quick friends, unlike Mr Suleyman. Most Probably the reason why Sahar is also. The lady just visited was commented as kind, beautiful and peacefully religious. "Oh, I wonder I am worth her friendship," her ma said. Sahar rolled her eyes in sarcasm. Her Ma and friendship? Totally go hand in hand.
"What's her name, Ma?" She inquired.
" Zainab Farhan." She replied.
Sahar was surprised. " Oh! Fourth Mrs Zainab?" The truth is that wherever they transfer, her Ma would meet a 'Zainab', at least, from the last four transfers.
The next day, when she was getting ready for her first day at school, her mind was thumping. What kind of people she will find there? Will they be kind like Julekha and Brandon? She had deliberately bought a long skirt. Going a little down her knees. She had decided to skip on the hijab but felt bad on doing so. She felt so much at ease when she wore a hijab. " I love my religion." They had already fixed her transportation to school. She would take the bus.
Standing on her stoppage, she felt her limbs like jelly. She was anxious, mortified and excited to see her school. Just like a kid going to school for the first time. Soon the bus arrived and she sat there. Nobody said a word at her arrival. Everyone was busy in their own talk. Suddenly, somebody tapped her shoulder," Are you new?"
" Er, Yes."
" I am Nora, eight grade. You?"
"Sahar, Ninth grade." She replied with very difficulty.
Nora glanced at her unfriendly gestures and said, "Oh. Glad to meet you." She left, leaving her alone again to deal with the anxiety.
Somehow, she managed to reach her school and her classroom. A board saying 'IX- D' was pasted above the door. She gulped and went inside. All the eyes fell on her. Oh, This is going hard!
She placed her bag on the seat and sat there. Her eyes widened and her hands shivering. " Hey, New girl? "A girl asked, the colour of her skirt fading.
" Hi." She mumbled,
"Why are you wearing this? " She asked along with her friend, pointing to her hijab.
"Umm, Hijab?"
"Really? This looks so out of the world. I can't believe you still wear such barriers." She said, mockingly.
Sahar fumed but didn't utter a word.
" You need to get to get a grip." Faded skirt asked, moving her hands closer to her head. Sahar quickly grabbed her hand and shotted her a smug, "I don't find you polite enough to touch my head scarf."
" What the fuck? I was just playing." she shrugged, " Very unpleasant, you are."
Shit! The first day of school and a fight? But what she tried to do was humiliating and unbearable. Weirdo.
Nobody else tried to make any conversation. Then, a short girl came and pointed, "That's my seat."
Sahar couldn't say a word but just stare. "That's my seat!" She repeated, a little pressingly
" Where should I go?"
" I don't know. Go, ask Bree." Samantha, as her I-Card said, replied placing her bag on the seat.
" Who's Bree?"
The girl danced her eyes around the room and said, " Perhaps, she is not coming. Come, Sit with me. Or else, you might not get a place. This class is crowded."
" Okay," Sahar whispers.
The whole day passed. And she just sat there, all alone. All she did was doing as the teacher said. Open her book, close it, place it back and the cycle continued, for the whole day.
She missed Julekha terribly. And Brandon too. Nobody else tried to make a conversation with her. Neither did she take the initiative. She needs Julekha and Brandon, right now. Her friends, her life. " Sahar...um..what's this? Sule-Suleyman!" somebody called. A woman, that somebody was.
"Yes!" Sahar woke from her pessimistic thoughts.
"Miss Erica is calling you," she informed and left.
"who?"
"Don't you know, Erica?" Samantha asked.
"How should I?" Sahar shrugged.
"She is our homeroom teacher. You will find her in the room right below this classroom, not in the staffroom." she smiled.
Sahar was confused about why she called Miss Erica by her first name. When she DID got down, she found a beautiful blonde surrounded by roses and peonies. That room was authentic and utterly beautiful. Sahar was stunned by her elegance, which perfectly synchronized with the room. The woman or Miss Erica looked up and uncloaked a very sweet smile, " So, you are Sahar." There was indeed something magical about her presence.