Wounded: Our Journey Home

Wounded- Chapter Thirty Seven

Edited:

will update after: 15 comments (with words, not numbers)20 votes. I put a lot of time and effort into these chapters and I feel that only a handful of people actually care that I do. I want you to tell me what you think about the story, or if you even like it. Please don't be a silent reader. The next update is up to you....

Published: Monday, December 7th 2015 1:38 pm

Ayah:
October 15th

          "No, no and no again!" I groaned in frustration while frantically pressing the delete button on my computer. For the last week or so, I've been trying to write some type of a story for my Wattpad account, but each time I come up blank. I can't even think of a topic. There are just so many to choose from, romance being last on my list. I like writing the genre and all, but there are so many romance books on the app that I didn't think twice about writing that idea off.

          Adventure. Now that is something new to me.

         "How's the writing coming?" Mama asked with a small smile, extending a cup of cocoa to me and sitting down.

         "Thank you," I gratefully took the cup and sniffed it, letting the smell of chocolate engulf my nostrils. A couple of days ago I picked up a cold, and the only thing that soothes me is this precious drink. That and it's one of my pregnancy cravings. "The writing is coming along slowly. The deadline for the entry is in three weeks, and I haven't got a single word written."

        "Well, don't give up,"She scolded, taking a sip of her drink, then shook her head in disappointment. "When you were younger you had all these amazing ideas that you would write down. I even still have those books."

         "You do?" I perked up, and she nodded. "Let's go get them."

         After we stood up and walked towards the garage door, I watched as her face fell as the door opened. The boxes were neatly packed in their original order, but you could tell they had been tampered with. When I did open them, I didn't even think to realize the kind of effect they would have on her. After all, she did keep most of them for over twenty years without being touched. Especially with the anniversary coming soon, it really wasn't the best time to snoop.

          "Mama..."

          "You opened them," Her voice cracked at the end as she stared at the boxes, her eyes glossy. I didn't know what to say at this point. All I could do was try to explain myself.

          "I was looking for things to do and came across them. I'm sorry. I should've asked first."

         "Yes, you should've," She scolded, walking over to them. I hung my head in shame. All the time I try to make sure my mother isn't upset by something I do, then I go and open boxes that are very precious to her.

         "But, I don't blame you for wanted to know their contents," She smiled slightly, then bent down and pulled a crate towards her and taking a book out and handing it to me. "Here. Here is the book."

       "Thank you," I whispered lightly and took it from her. The cover was slightly worn, the ink fading, but I could see a lot of the stuff clearly. "I'm so happy you kept it. I remember all the memories this book has."

        "Insha Allah it will help you now."

        "Insha Allah." As I saw that she was still sad and kept peaking at the boxes, I tried again. "Mama, I really am sorry."