Diary on The Shelf!

Chapter 36

A GENTLE breeze rustled the curtains, carrying with it the scent of familiarity that wrapped around a pacing Ifrah. She sighed, her footsteps echoing in the now-empty rooms of her childhood home. The quietness was almost deafening, amplifying the weight of her decision to revisit the past.

Stopping in her step, Ifrah found herself standing before the picture frame atop her bedside table. It held captured memories of a time long gone, a time when her world felt simpler. Her fingers gently traced the edges of the frame, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

The decision to come to see her mother had been heavily influenced by their last call two days ago. Her heart, while heavy, was ready to confront the ghosts of the past, to reconcile with her roots. She is her mother, after all, despite every fiber straining against her, begging her to go back to her place. She longed for her mother's love and affection, so long was she denied that.

No one was home; she had left Halima at Lorna's place, a place that was slowly becoming a sanctuary of sorts. The unspoken acknowledgment of their bond lingered in the air whenever they were together.

'Of course not, I just have a few stuffs over at her place,' Halima would argue.

'We don't live together; I have everything else I need at yours or Kate's,' she would add.

'It's official, unofficial cohabitation,' Catherine would joke, a twinkle in her eyes as she watched her friends navigate the uncharted waters of their relationship.

It's safe to say that the two were now inseparable, their connection intensifying with each passing day they spent together. Kate felt neglected by her best friend for two weeks when all she'd gotten back was a few 'I love you' texts and 'We should hang' messages. Catherine didn't let that weigh her down; she'd been busy getting her life together. She had joined a culinary club and was doing pretty well; her volleyball training was also keeping her occupied, considering the upcoming Nationals.

Ifrah exhaled, grabbed her phone, and sat down on a bean bag. She glanced around the room, the silence echoing the nostalgia that enveloped her. The room, once vibrant with memories, now seemed frozen in time. If the walls could talk, they would tell tales of laughter, of whispered secrets, and of a younger Ifrah who dreamed of a future untouched by the complexities of adulthood.

Texting Valerie, who was waiting just outside their gate in a hired purple Toyota Passo, Ifrah felt a peculiar mixture of anticipation and anxiety. The looming reunion with her mother sparked a cascade of emotions, and the anticipation for Valerie's support added a layer of comfort.

The front door suddenly shut with a bang, startling Ifrah. Her phone went flying to the carpeted floor while she stood up from the bean bag. The racing of her heart accelerated, finding it difficult to take full deep breaths. They were here.

Yasmin felt it in her gut; someone was home. The scent of Ifrah's perfume lingered in the air, and she knew her daughter was in the house.

"Ifrah," Yasmin called out in a loud voice.

"Is she here?" Mr. Khalid's eyebrows furrowed. They had both left the house empty, so why would her wife call out Ifrah's name?

"Ifrah?" Yasmin called out again, walking to the kitchen and placing a brown bag of groceries on the counter.

Ifrah, in her room, took a moment to compose herself. The room, once her sanctuary, felt both foreign and intimately familiar. The air seemed charged with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. With a silent prayer on her lips, "Bismillah," she descended the stairs, each step echoing in the hallowed corridors of her past.