Wounded: Our Journey Home

Wounded- Chapter Thirty

Edited:

Published: Wednesday, November 4th 2015 2:18pm

Jafar:
September 29th

When I was younger, I used to love birthdays. Everyone in my house did, but I had it the worst. It was an annual tradition to do something extravagant, even if part of the family wasn't there. From traveling to that persons chosen place, or one randomly, but always special. Birthdays were always taken very seriously, just like most traditions. But when I was around eight, that special part died with the realization that only a few of my wishes would come true on that day. My sisters had already given up hope for the reason as I did, but the difference between us is that they continued the traditions. I stopped. It didn't feel right to do it when the one thing you wanted didn't come true.

It was a couple of days before we went to Disney World, I was all excited to ride the rides, even though my sisters teased me about liking Disney. I've always wanted to see what it was like. Zahrah and Tehreem were the ones who loved it, and I wanted to do something to make us all happy. And I wanted everyone to come. But, sadly, that never happened....

Jafar 8 yrs...

"Remind me why you want to go see a bunch of princesses?" Tehreem asked mid way through laughter, catching Zahrah's gaze as they both teased me.

"I want to ride the rides!" I exclaimed and pointed a finger at them both. "Don't judge me."

"We're not," Zahrah defended, placing a dramatic hand over her heart. "It's just...weird."

"Alright girls, that's enough," Ummi walked into the room, smiling brightly at us. "We have to get going. We have a ride ahead of us. No pun intended."

We all laughed at that and continued to get out things together.

"When is Abu coming?" I asked her excitedly, while lacing up my shoe. She smiled sweetly at me, picking up her phone and dialing with one hand.

"I was just about to call him."

I watched as she let it ring, not letting it show that she was worried he might not be there, or answer for that matter. I was worried too. He rarely attended anything we did, and when he was there, it wasn't the same. And then, all of a sudden, her eyes lit up as he came on the line.

"Wa Salaams. The kids and I are ready. When will you be here?" There was a pause on the line that couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like hours. It was one where all you knew was that it was bad. And when Ummi pursed her lips with a deep frown, nodding and saying 'yes' every once in a while, I just knew it.

"Okay," She turned to Zahrah, motioning for her to go into the other room with Tehreem and I, but I didn't budge. I wanted to know what he said. "Go," She mouthed, but I shook my head. Ummi let out a deep sigh and went towards the kitchen, me following behind slowly. "Yes, I hear you, but don't tell me to understand, Sadiq. You can't keep doing this. I won't let you..." There was another pause before she rolled her eyes, the tears glistening in them. "I'm done," She declared and I froze. Never before had she been this angry. "Well, deal with it," And then she hung up.

That was when it all went bad. And a few weeks later, they were divorced, but he never fought for my sisters and I. Not once did he ask how we felt about it--neither of them did--an explanation from our father would have been nice. Not long after, they both remarried and had new children. Me and my sisters were upset and hurt that they basically replaced us, but we got over that with the newfound love of our step parents and Ummi. But he never showed much interest. He was there most days, but less days than most. And for that I can't forgive.