THE DEGREE OF HAPPINESS

15

I turned the phone on and dialed Soroush's number, his words still playing and replaying in my mind.

"Call me. Even if it is at three at night, call me. I don't care about the circumstances, they can be as stupid as wanting a button for your sock puppet, you just call me." 

Soroush answered the phone within an instant.

"Assalamualaikum!"

I placed a hand over my mouth and shook my head. 

No, I couldn't do this. I couldn't call him like this.

I was about to hang when he called, "Elizhapedia?"

A couple of tears slipped from my eyes. I wiped my eyes and asked, "H-How did you know it was me?"

"That is not important. Tell me what is wrong." He said, directly.

I shook my head, even more tears slipping out. My eyes hadn't lost their tear ducts, it seemed.

"N-nothing," I said, shakily, "N-nothing at all."

"Elizha," he said, "Ellie. What is wrong?"

I shook my head even more, sobs escaping from my mouth.

"Ellie? Are you....crying?"

"No. What makes you think that?" I said, in a slightly pleading voice, the pathetic state of my eyes very clear in my mouth.

"Elizha," he called, "Cut it out and tell me what is wrong."

My lips wobbled as I clutched the phone tightly, "Roush, Roush, please help me. Please. I....I need your help. You said that if I needed help, I should call you, right? Please, help me,  Roush. Please,  please,  please. I am trapped, Roush. Really trapped. Ammaty took away my cellphone, my mom pretends to ignore and.....and.....there is this guy and he troubles me so much....... in the tutoring center. And I can't even do anything because he is the culture minister's son... I slapped him and Ammaty made me apologize and sit right next to him anyway and I can't do anything because I am so afraid Ammaty will take away my mom's restaurant like they always do........I will do anything for you, Roush. Anything at all. Just please, help me. Please get me out of this mess...........You're the only one I can get help from, Roush. Please help me. Please.......Please,  please,  please,  please,  please, plea......"

Ugly crying escaped my mouth. I tried to cover it with my hand but it still got worse. 

"Please, Roush. Help me. I will do anything for you just......help me!" I pleaded. "I am going to die in this, Roush. I swear, I am going to die!"

Soroush didn't say anything. He heard me cry, perhaps harder than I had ever cried in my entire life. 

Once he got the inkling that I had calmed down a little,  though not much, he said, "What is the name of the center?"

"Mr. Anwar's Tutoring Center," I replied, desperately trying to wipe my eyes, "He specializes in teaching Chemistry."

"Okay," he said, "Now, calm down and go back to your seat. Where are you now?"

"In the washroom."

"Go back to your seat. I will get you out of it, today. Tomorrow....I will see what I can do. But, I will, In Sha Allah, get you out of this mess. Just....Just read Ayatul Kursi. It's the verse of the Quran that protects you, right?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

"Keep reading that, okay? And tomorrow, I will be dealing with him."

"Okay," I replied.

"Now, cut the phone."

I shook my head, "Not yet. Can you just stay....a little longer?"

"Okay," he replied, "I am here."