For Our Love... {Eternal Ishq #2.0}

Ch-8 Reminiscing Relationships (part 1)

       In the Name of Allaah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

'Peace and Blessings of Allaah be upon our beloved Prophet and Master Muhammad (s.a.s), all his blessed descendents and noble companions.'

- Aameen.

Chapter Eight

Reminiscing Relationships (part 1)

Thirty years of life had taught George various ways that one could waste a body and soul and he did his best to follow all those methods this past fortnight. He worked, at least tried to; often drank himself senseless, nights found him in bars, mornings he woke up with either Angel or some other girl. Afternoons he dragged himself for long showers, and tried to shove some food inside him yet all the time he could only feel soul numbing tiredness and deep self-loathing... listless at work, he couldn't stop the disparaging thoughts against his own self, which only led him to drinks to feel somewhat better.

It was a vicious cycle of self destruction, George was well aware of that. He knew he had to stop or else everything would blow out of control yet...

George stared at the wine in his hand, his face's reflection swirling in the glass. The face blurred, another appeared, beautiful and cold,

"Do you believe in God?"

George's brows rose in mockery.

"Really Sophie? You are asking that to a Pastor's son?"

He leaned back against the chair, eyes looking far away. As if a video of the past was playing before his mind, image after image of his childhood started flashing.

His father, a Baptist preacher, so good and kind to everyone, a scholar of classical works he loved the dead languages with a passion unbound, he was a teetotaller, content with his large family and happy to live and preach in the same town where he was born and raised. Mr. Benedict had done his best to raise his family in the God's way, yet he couldn't understand his handsome youngest son who attracted girls like moths to flame and who was bent on taking the swiftest path to hell.

"Why can't you be steady like your brother Simon?

"Are you saying that I should become a bore?"

"Didn't I warn that that school would only ruin him further?" his father had stated, furious and helpless. His mother had only given him a weary disappointed glance. Those glances were becoming frequent during the past years.

It was not that George wanted to cause trouble to his parents. He just loved having constant fun and taking occasional risks. At heart, he was a cheerful person because the world mostly saw his charming smile and was persuaded easily into giving what he wanted. That did not mean he had always had it all, no, rather the opposite.

He remembered the humiliation of having to wear his brother's hand-me-downs, of the frustration in always having to share a room with Simon (until he moved away for college), of having to wait long periods for his turn to the bathroom just because one or another of his sister was usually 'getting ready' for an hour in there.

But most of that had changed from that particular day. George could still see and smell parts of the day clearly as his mind replayed the etched images.

It had been Christmas, snowing heavily outside but warm bustle inside with the heavenly smells of simmering pot roast and his mum's famous rolls, feverishly unwrapping presents, enduring merciless teasing from his sisters, annoying his brother, feeling somewhat glad because of the satisfied smiles of his father yet George had not been happy. Discontent brewing like a storm because he didn't get what he wanted and had the same dull presents once again. He knew his parents had done their best yet, yet...

The only thing different this year was the visit of his great-uncle George, of whose namesake he was. Uncle George was grandma's cousin brother and a successful goldsmith. He was a bachelor, fat in appearance and suave in speech, he had an enormous appetite; He loved Agnes, George's mum very much and equally hated George's father. The dislike was mutual between the men.

He did not usually visit them on Christmas, but that year had been different. George should have read those signs but he had been only eleven years old and had already started to become disillusioned in religion and things like fate or destiny.

"So when you die would you leave all your money to me? Because I'm named after you..."

What had prompted him to ask that question of his great-uncle that day? Perhaps building frustration and budding hormones, or perhaps it was the devil himself... who knows?

His parents had been so shocked, his sisters couldn't stop giggling because of how Uncle George looked, nearly purple he was, and Simon had shot a disgusting glance at his brother.

But Uncle George recovered remarkably and in his usual smooth manner said looking straight at George,

"So you want easy money eh? I see..."

"Yes, I'm tired of not getting what I want, ever... so it would be good to have a lot of money!" George had nearly shouted. He didn't dare glance at his parents.

"And how do you suppose to get it, besides, ahem, my death... do you have a plan?" Uncle George looked serious yet his tone had a hint of amusement.

George shook his head, feeling like a loser. There were times when he really felt that he was far from smart. Especially at school, he strove to hide how stupid he felt with all the subjects. Maths was a disaster, Science was confusing, History boring, Languages tiring, Music was cool though he didn't have a passion or interest in playing any instrument. It was only sports that he excelled in, yet George already knew he wasn't that good that a career could be made of it.

Even though it had been holidays, his parents had grounded him for the whole week because of his rude question. It was torture but thankfully cut short when Uncle George surprisingly came once again and laid his plan before his parents.

"I won't give you any money even if I'm dead," Uncle George said to his great-nephew, who sat squirming before him. "But I have decided I would send you to one of the best schools in Britain, by the time you finish you will have a lot of great opportunities to pursue further studies and join work, what do you say eh?"

When George heard the name of the expensive co-ed boarding school, he had been ecstatic yet deep down afraid too. His siblings were openly jealous and his parents reluctant to send him far. But they were finally persuaded, everything eventually settled, Uncle George took upon the cost of boarding fees, uniforms, books, etc which for just a single year came to such a whopping amount that as George stood stunned staring at those bills, his great-uncle had said,

"Use your opportunities well, and make those lots and lots of money that you want," he had winked and ambled away leaving a scared George standing alone in his new uniform.

From the way the other students arrived in fancy luxurious cars with haughty attitudes, George could only hope that nobody finds out that he was a mere pastor's son come from a small town.

***

A/N :)

The next update would be part 2 in shaa Allaah, continuing George's plaintive reflections :)

After that, an update in IHL chapters, until then, remember in Duas.

Jazak Allaahu Khair.