Forever
Amara's heart was beating brutally, and she did not stop thinking about the next or what would happen if it was not satisfying.
Will they coerce me to marry an older man, or what happens if it's good, Will they make me do what I don't want to do?. The teachers and Sir would be disappointed if my grades were lower, and the tremendous malicious Miss Asa got the news of my marks.
She will comment that Amara didn't perform well in her study this time' Fuck her and sagacious [unintellectual Sir, when he would know my grades, he will be upset.
The teachers whom I was always royal, never cheated in there, and performed great will be dishearted.
They might think that I cheated on my tests that was why my grades caused the peace in class.
They had never accomplished such marks and always remained the worst, but were optimistic for me.
Fuck, fuck them all.
My parents' stargaze beyond my expectation that I would get one thousand fifty-six marks was an attack on my heart.
They never cared about my feelings and always eschewed me in my decisions.
They quite her 'we are the older, and we know the better' I wish we all kinfolks become successful in our careers and would leave them in a miserable plight.
Then they would discern how wrong they were.
That day when he declined her wish to be an artist, I hated him.
The day when
spilted on my hair cursed me, tried to rule my life, trapped me in the house,
made me worse as I was a mixed-race, laughed as I let her know that I got my periods and tried to cover me and my beauty, and I hated her.
She got passing marks in her board exams, but for me, she had decided what my future was.
It's a life of a middle-class Pakistani family.
When kids grow older, they have to live life with their parents.
They have to marry, bring their bride, and raise their kids under the shadow of their wicked parents.
The dramas of Pakistan are way too toxic as they always show a hatred between a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law.
Sometimes the daughter-in-law is toxic, and sometimes it's the opposite. Pakistani parents spend their savings on their kids so they can get a better school and then they could have better jobs, but in reality, they were foolish.
She regrets getting 505 marks in the ninth board exams. It's incessant to hear that work is strenuous and get a thousand grades. It's vile to Amara. She ruined her hour of sleep thinking this garbage. Once she closed her a night by getting 1060 marks out of 1100 freaked her out. The mom did most mom acts. She called her sisters and started showing off. Hugged get her like inserting breast could be felt.
Tears started falling from her eyes. Amara knew no one would be by her side. Things will get awful the next day. The screams of teachers and parents will be ample to make it sick. Amara slept crying as she was impuissant to omit the next day. Count one to one thousand and hundred. Accept every mark. She slept.
It was raining. The thunder brought by winds ensued in unpleasant weather. The winds were blowing the curtains, and in front was the bed Amara was sleeping. The cold queen shellacked her. She had to cover herself with a bedsheet. Amara learned how to be truthful, optimistic, and moral. Tomorrow would be a day of patience, tolerance, and crying.
In the middle of the night, Amara put her hand beneath her head, but a sudden shock awoke her, it was a dream more than a scare, and Nile meanest (student) won the game that she accidentally started. The thought of him being on the chart with thousand-plus marks was wild. Amara's breathing rate increased. There was a moment when she hadn't had control over it. It was four in the morning. A few hours left, and then the day of judgment will come. Everything she has done soon
she wouldn't be any more unaware of the marks. Amara was sweating, and the weather was terrifying her more.
The rumbling and lightning ruined her last night. The time she could easily prepare herself for the next day was gone. The rain spread scent the of its moisture, mixed in the gloomy night, and offered a pleasant sound. It was a sweet lullaby for Amara Maya.
On the fifth of September the year 2022, Amara was shedding tears in her washroom, and within minutes her result will come. She thought of the worst-case scenarios. Amara believes in the time of acceptance of a prayer or a curse. She had no idea that she had done the right thing at the wrong time. Her father and mother were illiterate enough so they could teach the best. Their hopes destroyed a boisterous girl. A girl who wanted to be a sketch expert. Amara's were nothing to her parents. They don't care what she had dreamt to be. They weren't impressive students and didn't accomplish a respectful life, but for Amara they were optimistic. They pressurized her to get good marks, but they aimed to use her
good grades as a tool for showing off.
Amara thanked Allah as the website crashed. Amara didn't want to see her result, so she turned off her computer and slept lowering her head on the chair.
Her heart broke into million shards seeing the disappointment on one screen. It was average marks. The marks she would get admission in college but requires one lakh rupees. One lakh is an insane amount for a middle-class patriarch. The dad said to her that I was ashamed of him, and Mama said, "I can't tell anyone how bad resulted".
The highest marks were thousand eighty and others were lower than that. The cousin of Nile and he were topics of appreciation on teachers' and principal lips. Miss Asa was flying in the air with joy
and contentment. She was happier with the result. Other teachers were kind a sad as Amara as her result was not at all best. Amara's grade fall down the cliff and injured her.
Amara was upset, sad, and hurt by everyone. She would consult a tutor in tenth as ninth was easy. She misbehaved, cheated, and feigned to be naive. Everyone was against her. The folks she believed would always support turned out to be sick, and she could not believe their narrow-mindedness. She realized that no one would give her a shoulder to cry.
Everyone was angry with her, and even her family and teachers were upset with her and then she was alone crying at the edge of a room day and night till her father one day told her to be ready the next day.
He sold his wife's jewelry to pay her college fee, then a
smile emerged, but suddenly, she realized the truth behind it was.
After endless miseries, anguishes, and satirical comments, she went into the kitchen gazed at her Mama bruised mercilessly.
Mother wiped her tears as she saw her, so there was silence, and Amara ate alone in her room.
Lying on her, Amara was shedding tears and clearing them up
by slim hands, she was heartbroken after the harsh reality of how an exam result can ensue in fights, silence, and hatred.
Her blood was burning after realizing what had happened in a few days.
She wished not to get parents those prioritize all their earnings
on kids, and after facing defeat, punish them.
Parents like them are ungrateful and hypocritical, and such people don't deserve to be parents, as they are churlish and abash their kids over receiving low grades on a test.
The end was in Amara's head, and all her plans for the future got ruined.
New life would be as a college student, and enduring, tolerating, and patience would be her friends.
Amara's friends were rude toward her.
They were jealous since the day they learned Amara had the capabilities.
As the teachers announced, the higher marks got to Amara, so everyone's
mood got off.
They were glad to learn that Amara fell down the cliff and maimed herself.
She got fine grade in the board examination for the tenth class according to teachers who always excu[sed the reason of their low to giving matric 9th and 10thpaper together.
At the end of September, her college classes had started, and Amara hated her new life.
Her father bought piles of books for her to study before college started.
She went tuition center twice a day, and her fee got harder to pay for her
father as the dollar increased.
On the other hand, the date came closer to college.
Amara was nervous, but she knew she needed to study before she would be financially free, and her family had put their heart and soul into her studies.
The night before her first college, Amara felt dissatisfaction,
self-hatred in herself.
She had plans of being an artist, achieving fame around the world, and giving talks, but here she was a burden, a daughter, a difficulty and
a problem, and from thoughts of being praised by their parents, she was
trouble for them, and every day there are fights between family members because of her.
Amara felt she was redeeming her sins in the past.
Amara knew the things she had done weren't something a parent
should be upset over it.
It was their fault, and they were getting the prize they deserved.
They could let her sign to a record label or set the cage-free for her, but they didn't.
Amara could not stop thinking about junctures when her
mother insulted her in front of her relatives and called her fat, hideous, and a torment.
At fourteen, she got her first period, but before that, her
mother, Khalas, and cousins ridiculed her as much as they could.
No one respected her, loved her, or had any feelings.
Her tears fell from her eyes and made that night her darkest night.
She was an unfortunate daughter of two educated and an unhappy married couple who had two sons.
Amara was supposed to live a happy life, but her fate was planning for other games.
She sniveled and wiped her tears from her sleeve.
Tearful, miserable, abashed, hapless, saddened and maimed Amara was.
A sixteen-year-old girl whose dreams shattered forever had no hope left.
She hugged her pillow as a partner and cried over it silently as she wanted no one to learn the storm her heart was through.
The people who never cared about her feelings would believe that she was being dramatic, and this was just a trick as she didn't want to
go college.
She held close the pillow, hugged tightly and cried, and shoved her mouth in it as silence was her priority.
Thinking about having no friends, protagonist, and under parents made her burst into tears.
Her eyes and head were in excruciating pain.
She tried to overcome her feelings, but nothing worked.
After a hectic and miserable night, she woke up early in the morning as her bus would arrive at six-thirty. She wore the new uniform and shoes and put her hair in a beautiful braid.
She used a little makeup, red lipstick, powder, and eye shadow. Amara rechecked her bag, and the bus came on the main road.
Boisterous boys and girls were talking, making fun, and as Amara came in, everyone eyed her, and the boys made noise, whistled, then a little smile on Amara's face emerged.
She walked through the aisle and sat between two boys who were busy using phones.
The bag was on her lap then the bus started moving.
One of the guys friendly asked her name, and his hand was on the metal, and he turned toward her.
They introduced each other, Amara to Zaman and Zaman to Amara.
It seemed she smiled after a while.
Amara was looking outside the window, and there were folks driving cars, bikes, taxis, and vans.
Students were in vans, bikes, and buses.
Amara discerned that she was wrong as most of the students seemed that someone coerced them to go to the college.
She felt a little light seeing those miserable expressions.
She was comparing her life to other's life and was creating a place of peace for her.
Now she was waiting for the college to come as it was seven already.
Her college started at eight, but on the bus, there were fifty-plus students, and no one didn't reach close to the college.
At last, before half an hour, Amara reached her destiny.
It was a beautiful college from the picture, but no one should judge a book from its cover.
Amara got out of the bus but forgot to ask about the time. On the wide street, she was on the sideway.
when Amara left the bus, she followed the
path of college, but had to stop on the sideways as she was finding her ID card.
Suddenly a brand new Mercedes passed in front of Amara.
She was amazed seeing such a lush car, but she walked toward the college.
As was leading her, Amara's shoulder unintentionally
collided with a guy of her age.
He was a guy of good manners as his bag fall off from his shoulder, but he had good morals and forgive Amara with a smile.Amara's friends were rude toward her.
They were jealous since the day they learned Amara had the capabilities.
As the teachers announced, the higher marks got to Amara, so everyone's
mood got off.
They were glad to learn that Amara fell down the cliff and maimed herself.
She got fine grade in the board examination for the tenth class according to teachers who always excu[sed the reason of their low to giving matric 9th and 10thpaper together.
At the end of September, her college classes had started, and Amara hated her new life.
Her father bought piles of books for her to study before college started.
She went tuition center twice a day, and her fee got harder to pay for her
father as the dollar increased.
On the other hand, the date came closer to college.
Amara was nervous, but she knew she needed to study before she would be financially free, and her family had put their heart and soul into her studies.
The night before her first college, Amara felt dissatisfaction,
self-hatred in herself.
She had plans of being an artist, achieving fame around the world, and giving talks, but here she was a burden, a daughter, a difficulty and
a problem, and from thoughts of being praised by their parents, she was
trouble for them, and every day there are fights between family members because of her.
Amara felt she was redeeming her sins in the past.
Amara knew the things she had done weren't something a parent
should be upset over it.
It was their fault, and they were getting the prize they deserved.
They could let her sign to a record label or set the cage-free for her, but they didn't.
Amara could not stop thinking about junctures when her
mother insulted her in front of her relatives and called her fat, hideous, and a torment.
At fourteen, she got her first period, but before that, her
mother, Khalas, and cousins ridiculed her as much as they could.
No one respected her, loved her, or had any feelings.
Her tears fell from her eyes and made that night her darkest night.
She was an unfortunate daughter of two educated and an unhappy married couple who had two sons.
Amara was supposed to live a happy life, but her fate was planning for other games.
She sniveled and wiped her tears from her sleeve.
Tearful, miserable, abashed, hapless, saddened and maimed Amara was.
A sixteen-year-old girl whose dreams shattered forever had no hope left.
She hugged her pillow as a partner and cried over it silently as she wanted no one to learn the storm her heart was through.
The people who never cared about her feelings would believe that she was being dramatic, and this was just a trick as she didn't want to
go college.
She held close the pillow, hugged tightly and cried, and shoved her mouth in it as silence was her priority.
Thinking about having no friends, protagonist, and under parents made her burst into tears.
Her eyes and head were in excruciating pain.
She tried to overcome her feelings, but nothing worked.
After a hectic and miserable night, she woke up early in the morning as her bus would arrive at six-thirty. She wore the new uniform and shoes and put her hair in a beautiful braid.
She used a little makeup, red lipstick, powder, and eye shadow. Amara rechecked her bag, and the bus came on the main road.
Boisterous boys and girls were talking, making fun, and as Amara came in, everyone eyed her, and the boys made noise, whistled, then a little smile on Amara's face emerged.
She walked through the aisle and sat between two boys who were busy using phones.
The bag was on her lap then the bus started moving.
One of the guys friendly asked her name, and his hand was on the metal, and he turned toward her.
They introduced each other, Amara to Zaman and Zaman to Amara.
It seemed she smiled after a while.
Amara was looking outside the window, and there were folks driving cars, bikes, taxis, and vans.
Students were in vans, bikes, and buses.
Amara discerned that she was wrong as most of the students seemed that someone coerced them to go to the college.
She felt a little light seeing those miserable expressions.
She was comparing her life to other's life and was creating a place of peace for her.
Now she was waiting for the college to come as it was seven already.
Her college started at eight, but on the bus, there were fifty-plus students, and no one didn't reach close to the college.
At last, before half an hour, Amara reached her destiny.
It was a beautiful college from the picture, but no one should judge a book from its cover.
Amara got out of the bus but forgot to ask about the time. On the wide street, she was on the sideway.
when Amara left the bus, she followed the
path of college, but had to stop on the sideways as she was finding her ID card.
Suddenly a brand new Mercedes passed in front of Amara.
She was amazed seeing such a lush car, but she walked toward the college.
As was leading her, Amara's shoulder unintentionally
collided with a guy of her age.
He was a guy of good manners as his bag fall off from his shoulder, but he had good morals and forgive Amara with a smile.
A sorry was offered by Amara too, thou her facial expression fall, she thought her first day of college
might go rough.
He was the guy on the seat beside the man driving the car, but he wasn't the driver at all.
A shade of green glass, suit, and he was wearing a expensive watch.
Amara couldn't contemplate more, and accepted his forgiveness and went inside the college, but was delighted, and surpised to learn such morals of rich folks.
As she entered college, her eyes couldn't believe the impressive beauty of that college.
It was a heaven from farview, in front was small coatyard having fountains creating beautiful patterns of water then a wonderful and well-maintained garden started in it was various forms of flowers, shadow zones, on the opposite poles there were two luxurious canteens, on the verge of there were class, and behind those concrete building was an enormous,magnificent, and spectacular dark forest.
It's trees were catching attention of every student.
Amara was staggered witnessing such a glorious place.
Boys and girls were embracing eachother, prattling, making pictures, videos, and some students were lying on the garden.
It was junctures of fun, amusement, and few students
asked Amara to make photos, invited her to canteen.
Amara left the rush and noisy portion of the college
and went to the deep and dark forest.
It's scent and aloniless was peace was to Amara, and she made friends with the nature, and trees.
The weather in the woods were pleasant, calm and joyful.
Amara didn't realize as she was lost in her own thoughts of a better present, making a better future instead of being here in the college colliding with random students
asking things she was not interested.
The falling of drops of water one by one, the rustling of leaves and the mist, fog in the forest was entertainment for her.
She was wishing to live her entire life there instead of
living with those illiteraten wicked manaics.
Amara had an intense hatred for her parents, and
she might be the ony one who envisioned the worst for them.
Amara supported the law, and wished if Pakistan someone
would bring the concept of that.
Every child should have the right to do or to chose what
they wanted, but unfortunately Pakistani parents believed that their anticipitation is the best and right for their kids.
Few people in decades emerged worldwide because of it.
The best and the only way to get rid of them is leaving the home.
Leave the home and stay on the road as a beggar rather thah going back to them.
A child to Pakistani family is their future.
In Pakistan it seemed prohibted for a girl to do what she wanted and
for a guy to live alone after marriage.
Their are dacoits, sinful folks, and all sorts of cruel people who are damn
available all the time and are so busy enough to fuck and abduct girls and are drama when a son decide to buy a new house for his wife.
Mother become an enemy of her daughter-in-law and often kills her.
Amara didn't realize that she missed all
her classes except the period of biology.
A gardener also saw her and asked her to leave the forest, and Amara ran toward the building.
Her hair was in a lower ponytail, and two strands of hair
on both sides were emerging.
She asked a boy about her class, but he denied her and said he was unaware as it was his first day too.
But he advised Amara to take help from someone who
knows the classes.
She thanked him and appreciated his advice, and went away.
Amara was facing trouble finding the exact class.
The college was like a maze as she kept seeing the same.
Indeed, no one helped her, but after interrupting
many students, she found the bio class.
The class was an overload on the verge and a kind student
gave her seat to Amara.
The teacher started her lecture but before that
she introduced herself as Mr.Bashir.
He explained his experience in the field of biology
and what kind of a student he was, and why he chose
bio instead of any subject.
My name is M. Bashir, and I am a
professional biologist.
You might think that I should be a biologist professor
but why I am a biologist.
Need to elucidate because a professor explains the theory and explains the lecture, but a biologist
explained the how(s), why(s), and what(s), when(s).
I never said professors are wrong and they are doing
what's in the books, but I do what I think is crucial
for you to comprehend.
As a student, my mom died giving birth to her seventh
child and I declined her death for three years.
I was four when she died, and my father was a van driver.
He didn't have ample money to buy clothes and food
and shelter us.
We lived in his bus, and my father sold all four
sisters to rich folks, and they gave him sufficient pay.
They were seven, six, five, and three old.
Now they are in their graveyards living and enjoying a peaceful
and better life than a life a father and their husbands gave her.
I believe in curses, but when my dad suffered a heart attack
and a kidney failure for the first time when I was
four and my brothers were two and three months.
He woke up from sleeping and was trying to lose
his shirt and I thought he was doing all that
due to humidity, but I was wrong.
That was the time of his death, and he was redeeming what he had done to his daughters.
That was a prize for such sins.
I saw him handling my crying sisters to rich strangers, and I saw him having an agonizing death.
He was crying, and he died and left three young sons
behind.
We had no relatives, and I buried my youngest brother
in the dark of the night, and I saw my mother helping
me digging the soil and putting him gently.
She wiped my tears as I said that I am everything was over, and I would die like him.
She hugged me and said that she was with me eternally.
A student questioned 'bout his brother.
He replied that someone had abducted him and killed him.
Some rascals who don't find a girl for sexual pleasure
can accept young guys like him for such wicked stuff.
You might wonder why I told you my story, and we should start studying bio.
I will let you know.
I was appreciated internationally for my involvement
in experiments that proved to be for the betterment of
humanity.
You might wonder how am there from a child whose parents left
alone in this damn world were literate and well-accomplished.
After I was left alone, some people took control of my life.
I realized later they brought me to Dubai illegally.
I was sitting on the rough path begging for coins and thinking they would fulfill their promise.
In reality, they were child abductors.
They had served their duty.
I wasn't getting much money as compared to other kids.
I knew I would be amputated soon as a punishment, but it was business.
At night, a golden flashlight flickered at the center
of the view.
I ran toward it and ran for my life, for my future,
and for the better.
In an hour, I was in a desert, and it was getting darker
and darkest.
I remember when I was looking at the sky, my head was upward, and I was getting lost by the whispers of wind indicating something anonymously.
I gazed backward the way I came from, and from a Fairview,
something was bright yellow, but I was not sure what that was.
But I can't let myself return to a way that had plans to ruin my life.
I made my decision to run away as soon as I could.
I was dashing speedily, I discovered that I was my unique talent, and the back of my body was burning like
someone had lit the fire.
I was sweating, but I declined my brain.
At one moment, when I felt that I might be way too far,
I should look back, but I didn't gaze back.
It was a hard choice.
I was dismayed and could believe what my eyes had witnessed.
The fire touched the sky and showered pieces of burning
fire toward me.
I couldn't go away from it as in a desert it was two sides and from one way was a giant and enormous twister with flying dust, and on the other was a big fire like a volcano erupted.
I was in the middle of death with no help.
I knew I would die rather than being torn into pieces
by the strong twister, and I might die in a blazing fire.
Both deaths were in rushing towards each other, and
I was between them.
There was no main hero who would save me, or I was optimistic that I would be safe.
The discomfort in the heart increased, and on the other side, strong winds increased, and unfortunately, I was between them.
I accepted my death and started digging the sand of the desert with soft and sensitive hands and digging enough, then I immediately jumped into my safe zone and started throwing sadness at myself.
I knew at that point death was meant to me, so
why not make it easier by leaving no spare space for air.
No air that I would peacefully die.
Under the ground were poisonous insects, and I felt their
needles inserting in me.
I put a hand around my mouth, and a brutal bite broke me.
I screamed loud enough to disable my hearing ability.
My involuntary action ensued in trying to get out of the
hell I made for myself.
I came out and was mystified seeing a burnt, barren land
with the moonlight coming from the opposite side.
All I couldn't understand was whether I was in heaven or hell.
(students laughed)
I couldn't believe I wasn't dead.
Then all of a sudden, I came out of the filthy land that
I tucked myself.
I breathed, and I was damn sure that it couldn't be real life.
It was crystal clear it was me being in hell.
The land was barren, cracked, and abandoned, and it
was the same when I went under the desert.
It was dilapidated, and I was impuissant to catch a view.
I felt stranded in a place that I had no idea.
I put stones in my heart and decided to go as long as I could
as far I can.
I hadn't had the choice to amputate my filthy, agonized and
tired feet.
There was a moment when I was on my stomach, and I grabbed my body by putting my fragile hands in the burning cracks on a muggy day.
I had no hope except for the bitter reality of death.
I knew by that time death was cruel, and it doesn't matter how young you are, how many fights you have won, or how many anguishes you have endured.
Humans, birds, and animals are immortal.
A human can try all the ways and wonts, but death can come from its
home and took your life.
I knew at that moment that I could try my best and continue getting away from this death and increase my life, or die by the cruel heat waves and
exhaustion.
I preferred my refusion to let death take my life there and carry on with the morsel of energy left in me.
I was glad I didn't raise a white flag, but the war didn't end.
My feet were similar to stones dangling from my waist.
They were dead by that time, but my hands started to let me know
"We can't."
I was proud of myself once for increasing few moments of life, but I felt
I couldn't expand a few moments of my life, but I could delay them.
But death doesn't wait cause it comes when the time is over.
I rolled over, saw the sunny sky, and glanced at my bruised stomach.
I touched my bruises and tasted the pain.
My back was hurting, my lower waist was dead, and scars, cuts, bruises, and maimed wounds were
covering my entire body.
I cried tears of agony, misery, and pain.
I tried my hardest to get through that but failed at last.
A teacher interrupted his journey, and everyone was curious but
mocking over his struggles, but Amara heard someone saying, "this isn't the teacher, but he is his ghost."
After the conversation finished, the students asked Sir to continue
as they were being curious.
He smiled and questioned his last words, and everyone cooperated.
He continued.
I closed my eyes and slept on the burning land.
As I woke up, it was the eventide, and I strangely had hope in my brain that I could pass this strenuous phase.
But when I tried to tilt over, I couldn't.
I was sick of my bruised body and the fact knowing other kids
of my age would be in schools as students made me furious.
I lost all of my energy even though I wasn't able enough to spit my silva out.
I couldn't engulf that, and my mouth got full of saliva that it was coming out of me.
I felt like an unfortunate child of the worst parents and an irresponsible human,
and I kept thinking that I would go back in time and choose to amputate and burn in fire instead of being here in a horrible condition.
I became pessimistic there that I worked my ass off just
to be here in a dreadful condition.
I have to feel how my body disintegrates gradually, or that wouldn't
happen the night howls would sure eat me.
But things won't go as planned, and the bell rang.
The period was, and his story remained unfinished.
Amara, lost in her thoughts, was toward the parking lot.
She had no clue about the color, number, or even her parents'
mobile number.
She was in her fret for an hour and was looking for a bus, but didn't find it.
Students were going home, and their rate started decreasing slowly.
It was one of the hottest days of Septem/ber, strangely.
Amara washed her face and makeup twice, thou she didn't feel well.
At last, she was exhausted and frustrated.
Amara was walking back and forth in the bright sunlight, so she decided
to walk in the corridor.
She made her way from the garden to the corridor.
It was an empty place, and she started walking back and forth.
Amara didn't glance at the ground and kept walking, and the sudden guy
whom she didn't recognize was on his feet crying, held her leg.
Amara screamed, seeing him in that plight, and struck him to the wall
and said, "leave me."
But he didn't.
He said, "I won't."
Amara was furious and terrified, but the principal saw her.
She said, "what are you guys doing here."
Amara was hesitant to reply but replied in her favor and said, " Mam, I was walking here waiting for my bus, then he held me."
She saw the truth in her eyes and boldness in the guy.
She asked them to come to her office.
The guy was on his feet, but as he wiped his tears with his hands, Amara distanced herself from him and went towards the gate, but the principal refused Amara to go.
The principal politely said, "We need to learn what had happened."
But Amara declined her invitation saying, "My parents are worried, so I want to go."
Amara and the guy were in the office.
She was upset over what had happened.
(Amara's perspective)
I wished, "I didn't walk in the corridor so I wouldn't be in this trouble."
I didn't know who that guy was.
He was a skinny typical Pakistani college boy wearing black pants and a white shirt.
His whole head was in his black bag.
He was finding his family's member number.
They asked me, but I said honestly, "I didn't know."
The headmaster insulted Amara and Wali for being oblivious.
She said, "how goose you are that you have no idea what's your parent's number shame on you, and now you are putting us in a problem."
I think she is stupid like, who asked her to hold me back, and I freaking hate that chaotic guy who has no idea.
I felt lost because of Mr. Wali, and he didn't care a speckle.
He was sitting calmly seeing the teacher dialing her brother's number.
I heard her saying, "Hello, you have to pick your brother Mr. Wali.
Because of him, a girl has also missed her bus."
She hugged up the phone and said, "he's coming."
I asked what about me, and she said, "we will do something."
Wali apologized to me for being a trouble, but I got furious
over his feigning and yelled over him.
You are the one I am here.
I could be at home having my meal, and why did you hold me.
Why didn't you ask for help?
Now where I would go, I have no idea.
Your brother would pick you up, but what about me.
Amara expressed her anger in words, but she didn't
discern why he did that.
She was standing beside the window and folding her hands impatiently
waiting.
It was twelve in the day, and Amara was anxious, upset, and furious.
Her expression towards Wali was aggressive.
Wali was an innocent, decent, well-mannered, confessive, and a grounded
boy.
He was a few years older than Amara.
He was nineteen and a half years old, but Amara was surprised to learn
about his age cause he was a bit of late for college.
She was unaware.
All of a sudden, the noise of hard shoes striking the
polished ground direct in the office.
A handsome man wearing a blue suit looking stylish with an attitude met
the principal.
The principal stood gradually and ran speedily outside the office.
Wali politely smiled with tearful eyes.
The man ordered him to stay there, and Amara got interested.
They were talking across the wall, but all the conversation Amara could
hear was unclear to her.
Amara stopped herself from doing that and rest head behind the wall.
She couldn't stop thinking crap about Wali.
For Amara, he was a goose, illiterate, and unethical.
The gentleman finished his conversation, and Amara heard the principal
saying to him, "come in our office and have chai or coffee."
But he said, "no, thank you."
The guy came in, and Wali said, "Bhai, I was scared."
He gently said, "it's okay, and I'm glad you are fine."
The sweet conversation between the siblings Amara couldn't tolerate
and stand up.
For Zayn, she was a stubborn, annoyed, and angry girl in her teenage years.
She was wearing a white college dress, biracial, with red lipstick.
Amara hated Zayn in her first sight.
A guy wearing a perfectly fitted suit, polished shoes, sunglasses
hanged from his neck, and a neat tie was absurd to her.
From the beginning, she hated such perfections.
He wasn't missing anything.
He was tall, handsome, and impressive.
They both gazed at each other at the same time, but Amara lowered her eyes
and went away.
He clasped her arm, but Amara turned around at him and his actions and glowered till he enclosed his first.
He said, "I'm really sorry, and I wish I could do something for you."
Amara looked at him and said, "favor me, and asked him why he does this to me."
Amara's confrontation was a fresh breeze to Zayn.
He politely said, "I can drop you home, and I am sorry."
Amara lost her temper and said that stop being nice.
This dilemma had over exshasuted Amara.
She said to his face and went away with a look of anger.
He stalked her to the gate and grasped her hand.
They again gazed at each other's eyes, but Amara furiously set herself free and warned him to never hold her like that.
Zayn apologized for his and his brother's actions.
Amara accepted his request, and he unlatched the doors of his black Mercedes.
Wali was in the back of the car sleeping as he was on medication.
She sat beside him.
He again apologized, but Amara got annoyed.
She said, "you should check yourself to a psychologist because
you have apologized multiple times."
He laughed and said, "as a psychologist, I am good as hell."
When she heard him, Amara was shocked, amazed,
and felt they could be good friends.
Amara expressed her gratefulness for meeting him.
Amara enamored these fields, the people who are in
this profession, and always wanted a friend who was a psychologist.
Here she was delighted to meet Zayn and there loved her reaction to learning who he was, and they formed a good bond.
It seemed that Amara's desire to know about OCD, PTSD, ADHD, DID, bipolar disorder, trauma, depression, stress, schizophrenia, anhedonia, and
anxiety had come true.
Amara enamored psychology, but she was scared of what it was.
She doesn't have the control over her emotions, as she gets aggressive, funnier, and emotional quickly.
She loved how psychologists knew everything.
They understand others' feelings, and she envisioned that they have the best life and are the best partners, parents, and friends.
Their kids would be the luckiest in the damn world as their parents
have the knowledge and understanding of the right things.
They don't underestimate their kids will and have control over hurting the feelings of others.
They know what they are saying, have the answers, and how to manipulate,
and they are impressive, worthy, and understanding people.
They provide therapy to distress, traumatized, stressed, and all kinds of disorders.
Their solutions in words and sentences meant the world to Amara.
But the evil reality of how stressed they can be is brutal.
Sometimes psychologist needs a psychologist.
The scariest thing in psychology for Amara was the effects of the disorders.
Sometimes, she felt stressed, forgot who she was, and lacked pleasure in things she loved once.
In notes, Amara writes I am scared.
Her brain couldn't tolerate those scenes, cartoons, and pictures of people having a devil hidden.
She was scared that a terrifying clown might appear in her room suddenly and destroy her mental state.
The peace is diamond, and such stauff might affect her solitude.
It's scary to close your eyes and see the skeletons, devilish faces, and vilest.
Hallucinations are awful.
The only thing that brought her mental state back was watching a vlog
or the funniest interviews of Ellen, Fallon, Kimmel, or James.
After accidentally giving herself the right to watch anything, she can.
Amara's feelings for psychology and psychologist took Zayn's breath away.
Zayn was impressed by her feelings about psychology.
He said, "who are you?"
His wont of saying was overflowing with astonishment, amusement, and a wow.
Zayn said, "if you are scared, I will help you."
Amara accepted his invitation as a friend.
She replied, "if you help me fight my demons, thank you."
She questioned his brother's condition.
The smile they both had vanished.
Zayn became upset and hesitant to reply.
But he let her know about his condition.
Zayn said, "Wali has autism," Amara was stunned to hear that.
She turned around and gazed at the sleeping Wali.
Zayn said, "Wali is comfortable when he is sleeping, but sometimes, he wakes up in screams over disgusting and terrifying dreams.
I do anything I can for my brother cause he is the youngest in my house.
We are two siblings, and he was about three or two, then my dad diagnosed him with ASD."
Amara questioned, "your dad?"
He answered, "Yes, he is a psychologist, my teacher, and my best friend."
She said, "I have no knowledge of autism, but I know that it is a complication in social interaction and a confinement to yourself."
She asked, "why is he not okay?
You and your dad are psychologists, and he has the best privilege?"
Over her question, Zayn said, "it's like you are the doctor, but your close one is dying, and all you can do is try.
I have counseled him, given medicines, spent time with him, but his wounds are not healing."
Amara curiously asked, "what wounds, and what are you talking?
Does he has gone through a trauma?"
They kept talking about Wali's mental health.
Wali was a boy diagnosed with autism.
After the diagnosis, his treatment started for the betterment.
Despite having two psychologists, supported parents, and sibling Wali's health was deteriorating.
He had panic attacks, stress, and anxiety.
In his high school life, Wali was the victim of physical abuse.
On a pleasant morning, it was hurtful for a parent to hear
your son was find in a garbage trunk in the back of the house.
A black shopper material covered his body.
He had no air to breathe, ensuing in a critical situation.
Alia, a professional gynecologist and an OBGWN, was checking
six months pregnant woman.
A call interrupted her conversation.
It was her neighbor, and he said, "Alia, someone raped your son,
and left him in my garbage trunk."
She apologized to the woman and ran with her car keys.
The sudden shock was holding her breath,
and she stepped out of her and screamed.
She said, "Wali, baby."
Alia was on her knees seeing her son in such a plight.
Teenage boys made him filthy that bees were flying over him.
Zayn and Zafar were also there.
Zayn was holding her back to stay away from her youngest child.
The shocked Aila was screaming out to the abuser who did that to my son.
Chaos occurred there, police came, were investigating,
and an ambulance came too.
Aila's tears dried up.
She was holding Wali's hand in the ambulance.
She was smiling at his injured face praying he would be fine.
She was hand-kissing her child.
Behind the ambulance, the impatience Zayn was blindly driving a car
to see his brother.
Zayn and Zafar were at work together when they received the heartbreaking news.
Zafar was contacting police departments, arranging lawyers for justice,
and the best he could do for him now was to take him to the hospital and be by his side.
Wali was shift to the trauma center with an extensive car.
Her mother was dying to see him alive, breathing, and smiling again.
His condition was worst than the words nurses had told.
When he couldn't breath by the ventilators, Aila saw specialists
rushing toward the ICU.
The uncomplete was impatiently waiting for the doctors to let them be aware of the damages the assaulters had given him.
Half an hour, hour, and two hours no doctor came out.
After three hours of being in the ICU, one of the doctor came out with a piece of heart-wrenching news.
The doctor said, "someone stole his left kidney and stitched up the skin, he got struck with a metal object on the head many times his head bones are damaged, his nose, legs, and right arm his fractured, and he got raped multiple times.
We are shifting him to the trauma center, and his condition is tenuous."
The desperate mother asked the doctor, "is he fine, and can I see him?"
The doctor sadly answered Alia, "no, you can't."
But he permitted them to glance at him from the window.
The doctor said,
"Someone took his kidney and stitched the skin unprofessionally.
It has ensued into an infection, and this infection has gotten worse.
Because he was in a filthy position for a prolong time.
His condition is serious, and we will do our best.
After twenty-four hours, he will undergo his first surgery on the brain, and then he will go for the temporary fixations of his legs, nose, and arm.
Once the fragile brain gets fixed, we will contemplate his condition."
In the damn world, no one is in a safe zone.
There is always a threat to girls and boys.
The malevolent rascals roam around the city like they
own it.
They had eyes on everyone.
They drool shamelessly seeing a flawless girl.
They are alcoholics, jobless, smokers, and a disappointment to their families.
They believe if we touch a girl's ass in a thronged market, she couldn't ever figure out who did that to her.
That was their belief, but the truth is she knows the wrongdoer.
When they are young, they forget they will be old one day.
The daughters and sisters had haunted for fun, pleasure, and fulfillment of their disgusting desires.
They will regret it when they would have the perspective of those fathers who have daughters.
The cases of rape was never confine to girls, and boys
were also in a danger zone.
The teenage boys are stony-hearted, vindictive, ill-tempered, headstrong, stubborn, and unethical.
They have no manners or respect for others.
Wali was the victim of some immoral monsters.
In the silent night, screams emerge, and folks can gather
to find out what was.
In the daytime, Wali went to high school on his bike.
He was late in realizing a black Carolla was stalking him.
As he speeded up, seeing them in the mirror on the alone road,
the car intentionally smacked his bike.
Zafar was well aware of the victims, Wali's abuser, the goose
who stole his kidney, and as a father, he did the best he could to punish them.
They are sentenced rest of life in prison.
Their parents came every day for forgiveness in his home, but
his response was a refusion to them.
Amara couldn't stop thinking about a misery
Wali had gone through.
She enamored his parents for being the best, confident, and supportive.
As most of the cases of rape, sexual assault, and abduction are considered a shame to the name of the family, and striving to get justice is not supported by family members in poor and middle-class families.
It's a disgrace for them.
Instead of fighting against injustice, parents force their daughters to marry them and save their honor and dignity.
The untold truth.
The annoyed Amara slept.
Amara was persistently going to college for a week.
She wished to meet Zayn or Wali again, as she had lot to discuss.
Amara attended her last class of biology.
It was windy weather, and her hair was flying in waves.
The class was as loud as a fish market.
The students were insisting Sir cover up his remaining story.
He continued, and Amara got interested in it.
My condition was similar to a torn bird.
I couldn't stand it, and my skin had bruised brutally.
But I knew if I stopped, I might be the dinner of the wild animals.
That thought kept me alive for weeks.
I was on my belly (grabbing) my body by tucking my fingers in the burning cracks, and for the break, I rolled over, and faced the sky.
My face's skin burned completely.
I felt that my mother was with me.
As at night, the monsters came toward me, and they won't touch me.
I made my way out from that hell somehow.
I was in a strange city with strange folks.
I had no idea what would I speak? and what had happened.
Everyone gazed at me like I was a joke or a new statue.
A kind man took me to the nearby doctor.
He realized I couldn't speak Arabic by my behavior.
I couldn't walk by myself because of the anguishes I had.
He lifted me through all the way.
After the visit to the doctor, he took me to a beautiful
stream.
He asked me to get clean.
I washed my body, and he gave me healthy food to eat.
After two weeks, I discerned the country I was living in was Saudia Arabia.
The noble man who helped me was a soldier.
He was an unmarried soldier of Iraq.
He taught me to read Quran Pak.
Unfortunately, we belonged to different places, and because of that
we were unable to talk.
The simple questions like what's your name, age, where you live, and where are your parents? I had no answer for that.
It was sad the man who saved me I couldn't appreciate.
I didn't go to school.
I had no clue what English was.
He setup a few gestures for me (like) for the meal was ready, so he banged the door.
He pointed his right-hand first finger towards the bed, and it meant
it was sleep time.
We eat peanuts together after peeling them and heating them.
For three months, he kept me, but he wasn't a soldier of this country.
He had to leave the country as the holidays were over.
I could not go with him as he did not know who I was.
He tried finding person who knew multiple languages, so hopefully,
he had the idea of who I was.
Despite his excessive trying, he had to leave me in a child wastrel shelter.
Hamid was holding my hand and was carrying a Stachel with him.
I was happier with him as he gave me a better life than my parents.
I remember when he left my hand and indicated me to enter the house.
He handed me my hand, and I could see his tearing eyes.
He left me too.
I was again an alone boy.
There were many boys and girls of all ages.
A month in the center, I had scars and bruises on my skin.
The owner didn't realize such things cause there were many of us.
I realized after some weeks the kids were missing.
I knew right off what was happened.
I stalked him, but I met failure as I had no idea
what he was talking to the other on the phone.
In the morning, we woke up early at five.
Proform ablution and pray to the Lord, and after prayers, we had our breakfast.
It was a date, cleaned water, and hummus.
It was obligatory to finish the food cause leaving
food on the plate was consider ungrateful.
After breakfast, we went out in the garden, where most of the time boys beat up the asses
of young boys.
I was the one victim too.
In the afternoon we had our lunch.
After washing the plate, we went to our beds.
One day I didn't go to bed as it was over-occupied, so I thought I should tell Hamid my problem.
Before I could knock on his room, I heard some men
laughing and having fun.
I opened the door and was in disbelief seeing
a shameless woman almost naked was providing a show of enjoyment for the men.
There was a moment of silence, and a man took me from there.
He said, " you have envisioned shall be a secret."
I nodded to him, but on the floor sleeping, I couldn't call a halt to that scene.
The people who made us pray five times a day were unethical.
They had no shame seeing a naked woman, and touching her private parts.
I saw her tapes on the upper and the lower body parts only.
The wont she was shaking and inserting her ass into the man's face was disgusting as she had nothing on them.
They were visibly two sets of enormous cheeks with a crease.
The men who gave more bread had to have pleasantness of removing tape from the breast that time.
The man who took me to my room was the richest, I believe, as he was suckling from her left nipple.
She was lying on his lap, and her feet touched the other man's lower part.
She went crazy when milk started coming out.
Hamid didn't take consent from her, and he was on her right one.
The other two maniacs attacked her legs, and with turns, they kissed what was between them more passionately than the actual lips, and her lips were the target of another wicked.
She was screaming for help, but no one cared.
Everyone was enjoying what they got.
I stood there watching them sneakily from the dark of the night to the coming of the sun.
My legs were giving up, and I couldn't stand on my feet like that seeing
them eating a woman.
I went into my room again.
In the morning, everyone was at the table waiting for breakfast, but we didn't feel the presence of any staff.
I went into Hamid's room where the night party occurred, but there was no one.
I entered the room silently and made sure no one was there, thou I was leaving the room, but I saw two feet over one another behind the Black Leather Sofa.
My heart suffered a shock, and I came toward it.
My mouth opened, my eyes were wide, and my brain declined to process what I saw.
It was the dead body of that woman I watched her live rape.
I couldn't believe they killed her and tossed her behind the Sofa as if nothing had happened.
I checked the drawers, cupboards, and the table, but I found no one's ID card, money, and all or their documents weren't there.
It was strange for me to comprehend, but I was pretty sure they all had run away.
I was right.
We were alone in the house with a dead body.
There was no cook, guard, manager, not even the house cleaner.
The notorious teen boys made some calls, but no shit, they learned.
Strange that our owner ran.
The class laughed.
In a month, we ran out of food supplies.
I remember the elders had to sell the dishes, spoons, and knives.
I witnessed how the dishes, furniture, and then children vanished.
I was the next after selling fifteen kids.
But they were clueless about my past history.
I thought I was sagacious, but I was wrong and went far in my planning.
They chained me up the whole night and told me soon they would mine money.
I was lock in the bathroom, and it was dark, silent, and scary.
I could scream or ask for help.
I slept with my hair-raising dreams.
Someone opened the door, my chains, and I could see he ran in a hurry.
I thought human buyers had come.
Strangely, a guy named Tenhail, whose plan was to sell kids, was on his knees, asking me to be quiet.
They put me in a dilemma by acting that way.
One of the students asked, "when did you learn Arabic?"
He replied, "I didn't learn Arabic as I knew some words and phrases that use often."
The student's curiosity was above the water, but the class ended.
Amara had her curiosity over her teacher.
A man who was illiterate at seven and had to go through such a traumatizing time is a professional artist.
She met Wali sitting under the tree reading book.
Amara's perspective changed about guys as she saw him under the tree, reading a novel.
His brown leather bag was beside him, and he was on the ground sitting and resting his back on the truck.
Amara sat with him and apologized.
She said, Wali, I'm sorry for my words as I was unaware of the truth."
He replied, "you should not be sorry as it wasn't your mistake."
They talked about novels, writers, and stories till the door opened.
Amara was at the gate figuring her bus, and saw the guards clearing the way for an important person.
A handsome guy wearing sunglasses was driving the car while chewing a piece of gum.
The rays of the sun were helping him to look stylish.
He won everyone's heart with his attractiveness, looks, and efficient skills.
He opened the car door and walked toward the principal room with a pile of papers.
Amara recorded the fashion show as Wali passed a smile to Zayn and walked to the car.
Zayn wore black jeans, a white shirt, a black suit coat, and
matching sandals.
Amara witnessed girls making memories of him on the phone,
he felt like a model.
Amara sat on her bus and was waiting for it to fill.
The bus started moving, and her ears couldn't stop letting all gossip of girls about Zayn.
I didn't find anything in him, but I know he is alluring, good-looking, and amiable, but he knows the rights and wrong, and I believe that matters.
I know impressiveness seems heavy on the heart and is hard to digest.
I have moved on from that phase where the girls live in the guy's fancy.
I won't say I'm unattractive toward any guy, but I believe they aren't what I am looking.
Once I walked toward my room and wrote in my diary with an overwhelming emotion after realizing I am gay.
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the ultimate truth.
I searched pics for the appealing boys, but I got nothing with an indication I don't like them at all.
I YouTubed for my reason, and a noble guy let me know the answer.
It's all about you lacking a sense of conversation as a guy you are best friend with can be the father of your kids in the next decade.
I don't feel like others because I am not a kind of a girl who gets crazy seeing a man.
I am an artist, and the expression of an artist is in their creativity.
Amara drew a hand sketch of Zayn's mysterious eyes.
She gazed outside the window for the air to blow her hair.
Unfortunately, Amara had to have a glimpse of him driving the car.
I don't have friends as I get exhausted by the concept of overseeing someone on and on.
Amara turned her head inside when the sight of Zayn turned her mood off.
Amara unlatched her home door and went to the bathroom.
A blob of reddish-brownish clot falls from her vagina.
She used water to clear it all up.
Periods are trouble in teenage as you need to be alert all the damn time.
I don't have white clothes because of the occurrence of bloody rain every month.
They are of no use as damsels endured its torments for no reason.
It is unfair cause we need to care when we don't want them, and when we try for babies in the late thirty(s) and forty (s), we want to have periods.
The doctor says, "more eggs we get, more babies you will have."
I don't think boys have to go through all this drama at the beginning of their teenage years.
That is us who have to.
When a girl gets pregnant, her life is in danger, but not the guy who slept over her with no consent and tucked his germs in her body.
When Wali was absent for two months, Amara
felt strange.
He was damn punctual, regular, and had the passion to become a lawyer.
It's pretty hilarious how kids say in childhood they want to be a doctor or an enginer when they would get older, and
their parents lived by this dream, but sadly their own blood vandalise their dreams.
The heart shattered listening wishes of their occupied kids.
Parents had no choice instead of their refusion.
They say, "no."
Teenagers are mostly deprived of the parental supports.
Nila wanted to be a lawyer, but her family disagreed.
Parets in Pakistan live life with wrong morals.
They believe teenagers are senseless, but the parents have
knowledge of all the ethics and immoralities.
The sucide cases, migration to foreign, and hatred for parents are common these days.
Wali is the lukiest as he got the oppourtunity to be a lawyer.
His parents feel quite sensible as described by Zayn.
He would work for justice and pleasurize himself with
esctasties of the victims.
Zayn and Wali are fortunate enough to acheive what they want.
I wonder why they live in such a terrible, expensive, and
drowning country.
I think they have left this country finally.
In the morning Amara didn't pack her bag for school and ran on the bus's tintinabulation.
Ghori curiously and ridiculously said to Amara,"You defintely got this brown colour from that dick head."
Amara didn't let go the time she beat up Amara with her heels."
Amara ignored.
On the gynicologist, a well-dressed lady
wearing long white coat, straighten black hairs, and with a perfect makeup was sitting on the desk.
She judged Amara meticulously.
Amara worn a blue jeans with a high-knee frockk.
She paired her dress with a matching black sandals.
Amara and Ghori sat on the sofa facing Dr. Alia.
Ghori, "I am having pregnancy symptoms, but the strip
is keeping me clueless."
Aila asked, "When did you have your last intercourse?"
Ghori said, "last week."
After the ultrasound, Ghori realized she
wasn't having a baby.
The doctor Alia was losing track seeing Amara.
Before leaving they smiled at eachother.
While walking to home, Amara felt disgusted by her mother.
Amara and her mother's relation was intricate since the begining.
Her mother felt inferior giving birth to a daughter.
Folks came to express their sadness as Amara unlatched
her eyes in thr world.
Ghori hated Amara because her family members ridiculed
her for being a mom of a daughter.
The whole way Amara didn't let a word out of her mouth.
Since the day when an anonmyous guy banged
the door, Amara went levels higher in disliking her mother.
On a rough day Amara's mood was off.
She was walking in the forest aslo known as a place of peace.
She was hopless knowing nothing is working, but she kept
declining the planned fate by their manners.
"study well, get marry, be a good house life, and have kids soon."
Her mood get off every time she asked herself, "how much do I need to be with the devils?"
She sat behind a tree looking at the sky hoplessly.
Her condition was a gimpse of a teenage period look liked.
The thoughts of have to do something right now was killing her inside.
Amara in rage broke a glass vessel on her hand to avoid
such feelings of overwheming anxiety.
The glass's shards lacerated her hand ensuing in gashes.
As the blood flew, Amara felt relaxed.
The pain was ample to shed tears on anyone.
A girl sitting beside a tress with a blood incessantly dripping down was scary.
Hopeless Amara sat on the bus in the window seat.
She hid her left hand under the staller to eschew reasoning.
Amara's heart was shattering as she could feel the hopelessness.
Jobs require experience that I don't have, I enamor art, but my parents won't let me.
I wish I could get informed of the exact date of their death.
It would be the happiest day for me.
If they can't die, I can.
Amara said Goodbye to her fellows and the driver
for the first time, and soon her sadness turned into glee.
She knocked on the door and went into her room.
She started writing on her dairy.
"Dear parents, and my siblings, I am taking my life because of you.
I believe I should not die without giving you a reason.
The reason is as growing I was beloved by anyone.
Knowing I was the only daughter, I expected pure love, care, and understanding.
My wishes and desires were mocked and ridiculed.
I never felt I was a part of your family as you prioritized your time, money, love, and importance to Ali and Ahmad.
Ali got all the love and appreciation, and Ahmad became the diamond of their grandparents.
I got nothing.
On a cousin's birthday, I was sitting alone on the chair, glancing at everyone.
No one paid heed to hug me, kiss me, or be a little affectionate toward me.
I believe my feelings are fragile, vulnerable, and poignant.
From the beginning, I was an introvert, naive, and emotional.
My tears are punctual as they come earlier than they are supposed to.
I kept many secrets from you about abuse, sexual assaults, and my periods.
The person you have become made me crystal clear that I didn't need to
let you have my hurt stories.
The man you have faith in, the girl you heard, and behind you, a guy abused his hand at me.
If I start with the Nawab, I will confront him for being cruel, wicked, evil, manipulative, aggressive, and unsuccessful in being a good father.
I don't think you believe kids have their own life, privacy, wishes, and desires.
Living with you made me feel like a hostage or puppet, and I became nothing but a daughter who had an intense dislike for her father.
The woman complained about her body deform because of giving birth.
You never groomed me, taught me the morals, and always let me down.
In dressing sense, style, and fashion, there was someone envious, mocky, and rancorous.
You weren't amiable, well-mannered, a good woman, or a mother.
The woman who disrespects her husband, curses at children, and prefers her happiness over everyone is an unethical human.
I suffered anxiety, stress, and panic attacks because of an upset environment in the home.
I got no ethics, manners, beliefs, nobility, peace, happiness, or optimism.
You passed your sinful gens of losing temper to me.
Parents, teachers, fake friends, relatives, cousins, and their incessant ridiculing, torturing, and hurting are why I am leaving this sinful earth.
I would miss my novels, dairies, and sketches.
I would have a better future if you were supportive, lovely, and kind to me.
I wish you an awful death.
Your unfortunate daughter Amara."
Amara sat on the bed and began searching for the nail remover.
She made lemon juice, but her mother noticed the badly injured hand.
Tearful eyes, worrying nature, and her questions perplexed Amara.
She was going to die, but her mother won't leave her alone.
She said to Amara, "let me know what had happened."
Amara yelled at her, "who are you, and why do you care.
Stop doing this drama."
Amara would end her life, but she did not.
It was a rainy day, and the injured girl was sleeping.
She woke in the middle of the night, but she was shocked by seeing
man sitting beside her.
He held Amara by his arms, and Amara felt comfort in his arms.
It turned out to be a dream.
The striking light woke Amara up.
Her hand gave the worst pain, sleep paralysis, and scary dreams.
Her thoughts were diverting toward the psychologist Zayn.
Maybe he could help her to figure out whether the problem was she was feeling stressed or diagnosed her with some mental illness.
But the problem was it was not easy.
He would be busy, and his brother might have left the college.
She was sitting on the bed processing a thousand things, all at once.
She had no idea that instead of breaking down problems and searching for their solution, getting overwhelmed because you can see no way is the onset of endless struggles associated with mental health.
Her mind begged her to lay her head on the pillow, but pursuing it didn't work well.
The dreams indicating stress, anxiety, fear of trying, and should take steps better freaked her out.
She online passed resumes and applications and received emails about getting all those trials rejected.
The reckless, awful, and oblivious parents weren't focusing on seeing the misery and distress on their daughter's face.
Amara once heard her father say, "she is doing a drama, as don't want to study."
I believe such parents should not have children.
For them, the kids are puppets on a string, their money and grace.
They are the folks responsible for shattering Amara's mental health.
They were unaware of when Amara lived with them.
I envisioned such parents realizing the odds when the blessing vanished.
Some guys were talking about the story of Sir of bio, whose story felt like nothing but a lie to everyone.
He exaggerated his life in suspense, and if he accomplished such success, God knows why he worked in a college as a professor.
The students were making fun of the unfinished storyteller.
The weather was pleasant teenage boys were whispering, annoying, and enjoying classes were going Amara and her classmates were revising their major, test of biology.
Typically, no one revised as test results were torn and tossed in the garden.
First-year study felt strenuous for students, so they didn't think to study as it would be a waste of time.
There was a plethora of stuff for juveniles to prioritize their time on.
Amara chose to sketch on her workbooks and preferred standing in the class over not doing home tasks.
She deceived her parents all the time.
Teachers get mad at her for being a badass, but she doesn't give a fuck.
In school, she wasn't successful in finding a chance to show her acting skills, but when Amara acted insanely naive to teachers, her friends believed.
After three months, Amara was boisterous, cheerful, and a lunatic.
For teachers, Amara was a problem.
She declined to give the number of the father or mother to the headmaster when she asked.
One day Wali made Amara stop though she hadn't seen him for a while, and both were sweet and good to each other.
Amara asked, "Wali, where were you?"
Wali replied, "I had a family issue."
Amara amiably asked, "how is Zayn?"
He answered, "everyone is good."
Both started walking along with each other while introducing each other.
Wali questioned, "are you engaged?"
Amara declined but asked him the same.
He said, "no, no, no at all."
Amara felt facetious over the question about Zayn's engagement.
But Wali's reply triggered her.
He said, "Zayn ended his six years relationship with his girlfriend weirdly when they got engaged last year."
He explained it very short, but too long.
Wali couldn't give her a reason as he was unaware too.
He said, "it's strange to see a patient, loyal, quick-witted, and imperturbable brother who comes home one day at an unusual time with an expression characterized by aggression and go to his room."
Amara agreed, "it's strange."
There was silence between them for a few seconds till a question popped up in Amara's mind, and she questioned, "when did that happen, and why were you absent?"
His reply was because of that.
Curious, Amara had eager to know till the verge, but no one spills their personal information to a stranger.
In the class, Amara's brain lost her in the life of Zayn, and again a test, she wrote a shit.
Amara's teacher clutched her arm in fury.
She was leading her to the principal's room, everyone was seeing them with confusion, and they stepped down the stairs and let her free with force.
As they reached the principal's room, Amara fell and bruised her knees because of the pressure.
The teacher cut her nose and spite her tongue doing that to Amara.
She came from the room with blood-stained clothes and bruised nose.
Her friend's group was on the far left side, waiting for her to come out.
It didn't last long, and she shared the inside story.