𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

2.𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒

                         ᴀᴍɪʀᴀ

I think I'm going to die.

No die is a light word

What's the word again?

Fuck!

Dear, Mr. Smith, your daughter passed on due to a stroke after her inappropriate behavior towards a professor.

My father would be thrilled.

I imagine him placing his cigar to his lips, his permanent grimace set hard on his aging face. Afterward, he would lecture me on how I made the worst choices on pursuing a degree that was termed taboo in our family.

Looking at the bright side, it was a she. And by, she, my professor.

I wish it had been an old couple enjoying the starry night, lost in each other's arms, that had witnessed my shame.

Will she report me?

I don't think so. She practically didn't see anything since she got out of her car just before I could commit the ungodly act.  And guess what my brilliant mind just did.

I slammed the door to her face and ran down the dark alley as my friends yelled my name behind me.

Yeah, I'm definitely going to get in trouble.

I halted resting my tired hands on my knees panting hard. The alcohol I had taken before this, all faded due to the nerve-wracking experience, making me sober as sober can be. Lifting my head, I take a glance behind me spotting no trace of the old lady. Not that she could catch up to me.

Perfect, right? My past gymnastic skills come in handy in times like these. I remember my Aunt Margaret forcing me to train for a shitty competition to quench her thirst. She loved rivalry among her fellow women and the thrill that came with it. I did it for twelve fucking years and nothing good came from it. It only added to my trauma.

It's at this time that I grow aware of the place I was in. The dusty wall I was leaning on had deep cracks from top to bottom and a dim lamp hanging on top, illuminating the dark street. I've never been to this part of the city, making me wonder where exactly I was. My feet carried themselves on their accord as I maneuvered the path. Leaves crunched beneath me and echoed through the isolated place.

I stopped at a dimly lit path looking to my left for any passing vehicle. I frantically glanced at the isolated road for any figure but there was none. I spotted an old fence by the road and I went to stand by it. I desperately needed to get to my bed and rest my lazy bones as I think over my life decisions.

My mother would be so proud of what I've become.

Fucking hell, Amira.

"Fuck!"

I nodded my head,"Yeah, fuck. Even the walls hear my cry of agony,"

"Let me go you... you son of a dick,"