4. WITCHES

"I am trying so hard, to let myself free;

Wandering in the thoughts of a pearl named serene,

Standing alone on land barren,"

__

"PTSD, oneiroid syndrome, oneirophrenia. Ya Allah! I can work on it even if there is one thing to work on. But it shows too much things at one time. What should I do?" he questioned himself for the fourth time. Shaking his head, he closed her files and secured them in a bag he brought with him. Stress features marring on his face.

"We should go." she called out to him, coming in the room with a satin hijab adorning her head making her look more beautiful then she already was.

"Sure." he smiled gently at her and picked her bags, following her out of her room.

Her ruffled maxi dress flowing with every step she took. His thoughtful gaze falls upon her and he sighed feeling bad for her soul. She excitedly hugged everyone for the last time.

Her father's gaze lingered over her face for a minute or two and he assured her daughter with his eyes. As his eyes shone with past moments spend with her in building memories. He moved towards Waqas, who stood in a corner seeing the scene unfolding in front of his eye.

"It's really hard to let go a piece of you, when you were the one who nourished it, protected it and stayed by her side every moment." her father said with a necessary pause as his gaze lingered on her every moment.

"I promise you, that I will provide her with everything I am capable of." Waqas assured him.

But he was a father and a father doesn't need words of assurance but actions.

"Never give up on her, she might be too much to handle, sometimes, but don't give up on her." he tightened his heart before uttering those words and closed his mouth.

Waqas glanced at her once and turned to her father,

"I will never give up on us." he muttered loud enough for him to hear. Determination dripping from his voice.

"We are going papa." Zohra came back to her father again with tears shining in her eyes, jutting out her lips.

"Oh, it’s not like we are moving far away, we will keep visiting. And just stay happy and healthy, and I need a call every night after 7, mm-hmm. May Allah bless you!" her father playfully teased her and asked her to call him every night.

The couple muttered a small 'ameen' under their breath and their breaths hitched when their eyes met.

"I surely will papa." she promised with her breath and everyone bid them a happy good bye with blessings following after.

They sat silently in a car. He drove to his house, and she continued to look out of the window.

His gaze went to her again and again but she wasn't the one to notice. She was lost in her thoughts. Her face was blank with no expressions.

"Zohra" he called her but got no reaction from her.

He realized she was lost in her thoughts.

"Zohra" keeping his hand on her hands he called her. Her empty eyes moved to him. For a second, he got scared and his heart fluttered seeing her blank expressions and her empty eyes. But he controlled himself and asked her trying to gain her attention,

"Are you okay?" She kept staring at him making him rub his thumb on her palm in a circular motion.

"Who are witches?" She asked with her empty stare, lingering on his form.

Frown formed on his face, he opened his mouth and closed it, not knowing how to answer her.

"Witches are maybe people who does evil deeds, chaos, darkness and betray their lord." after a while he answered her, rubbing his chin, thinking hard how to answer her this question. Her small question made him question about his degrees.

"Am I a witch?" She asked making him snap his neck towards her so fast that her feared, it will break.

"W-what? You k-know what are you s-saying?" He stopped the car near a gas station and turned towards her asking his questions. Her words made his stomach churn, because he never met a person with so disturbed mental illness.

"They say I am a witch." she whispered and the car felt silent. He rubbed his face as his mind went blank. Her questions were leading to more confusion of her case. And he felt like a loser, not able to answer her questions. Thinking what made her think like that, who hurt her like that? What is it, that's troubling her?

Calming his racing thoughts he again turned towards her and placed his question with carefulness.

"Why they say that?" his heart pounding in his ears.

"Because I betrayed my lord, the gloomy weather is my happy place. I am not a fan of darkness but gloomy weather is something I cannot hate, even if I try to. But, but I avoid doing evil deeds. I don't like it, I don't like to hurt people. But they do, they like hurting me." she answered, slowly coming out of her empty space.

Her eyes shined with something, but Waqas wasn't able to understand what it was. It felt like more of a fear then pain.

"Just because your choice is different, doesn't mean you are something evil. And I don't care what people think about you, I just know that you are the person whom I promised to spend my whole life, treasuring you, caring for you, making brownies for you every weekend, taking off a day when you say to me, neglecting everyone just because you say to me.

For me even if you like a fire, I will burn everything to see your smile, even if you like a flower, I will plant them in every corner of our garden, if you like brown color, I will paint our whole house in brown. Even if you like to read books I will build a library, just for you.

You don't deserve just a world, because those galaxies, stars and those planets will always shine for you.

Doesn't matter if they emit their own light or take help. I don't need to know what world say, because for me you are my book I read every night before falling asleep, you are the protein shake I need after my work out, you are my everything" he said, his words sounded more like a promise to her.

She never believed in those confessions in books, she never believed that someone will exist who will say these words to her.

But she didn't knew, Waqas always have been good with his words. His words always have an impact on people. He always says anything with so much intensity that people believe him, even if he was lying.

Waqas never felt guilty of any his actions. Because he believed that people always believe what they want to, and what other people want them to see. They have their judgment on what they are told. Because they are too busy in judging, to find the reality. He was just a way to help people to get them back to their right track. He wanted them to be blessed by Allah's Hidaya.

This time also, Waqas had used his magical words with so much intensity that it made her believe on his words. He knew half the way that she believed him, when her cheeks turned red. He knew what was to be done; he knew how to assure her, because he was a psychiatrist for a reason.

But, he will learn to love her, one day; he didn’t know that.

He has worked on several people and helped them to come out of their traumas and depression by the will of Allah

He knew she will not believe his words, whole. But he didn't only promise her, but himself too, to never let her down.

"You are lying." she chuckled and turned to the window.

Zohra was a wild flower, with every memory of dreams caressing the softness of the petals dancing in hues, colourful.

Her memories are a pile of mystery dreams waiting to be solved by him.

He said nothing, but he knew the old saying 'actions speak louder than words'. And he already has promised himself to prove with actions.

"What is your favorite color?" He asked taking a turn which lead to an abandoned road.

"Brown"

He nodded and stopped his car near cottage like house. It has black bricks walls with white framed windows. The gate was already opened and he turned his car towards the parking area. Parking it securely, he turned down the engine and motioned her to step out.