Mashal's Perspective
I found myself traversing a peculiar bridge in the heart of a dense forest, a carpet of wildflowers underfoot. This was no idyllic fairy tale with sunshine, butterflies, and mirth; instead, the night enveloped me.
And as expected, an eerie sensation crept over me when an unseen hand brushed against my bare arm, sending an inexplicable shiver coursing through my entire body. The familiar fear had returned, embodied by the shadowy figure. Suddenly, I felt his breath, a chilling presence against the nape of my neck, a sensation akin to death itself inching closer.
I turned, hoping to confront the owner of the hand resting on my bare arm, but, as usual, there was nothing but the haunting silhouette that invoked intense fear within me. I yearned to wake up from this nightmarish reverie, that peculiar state when you're aware it's a dream but remain trapped within its clutches, unable to rouse yourself.
"Mashal... Mashal, it's okay, sweetie, we're here," I heard two concerned voices reassuring me, accompanied by the touch of a comforting hand on my forehead.
Desperate to break free from this terrifying dream, I struggled, my attempts to awaken futile. It felt like a snare, an inescapable trap. My breathing grew labored.
"Mum!" I screamed aloud, jolting upright in bed, my body trembling. Sweat clung to my forehead, and my roots felt damp.
"It's okay, we're here," my dad's voice offered solace as he settled beside me.
Gradually, I managed to regain control of my breath.
"What happened?" my mum inquired.
How could I explain?
"I don't know, I can't remember!" I lied, my voice quivering.
In ordinary circumstances, my mother would instantly discern my deceit, but the beads of sweat and nervousness made it difficult to perceive the lie. Lying was a formidable challenge for someone like me, a terrible fibber.
Yet, divulging the details of these eerie dreams was even more arduous. The touches, the shadowy man—they were steeped in an unsettling, sexual context. How could I possibly convey this without being branded a pervert?
"Hmm, so what's the deal with college? You came home and slept, and now it's morning," my mum remarked while straightening my unruly, curly hair.
"Nothing, I was just tired, you know, rough week and all," I offered, sliding my glasses onto my nightstand.
"Don't worry about it; this week is the last of the term, and then it's Christmas," my dad chimed in, rising from my bed.
"Yeah, I know," I replied quietly.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" my dad inquired.
"Yes, I'll be fine. You can go to work," I reassured him with a smile, and my mum followed him out of the room.
Then, the realization struck me—I had caused quite a stir yesterday. I hurriedly reached for my phone and checked Yousef's messages. After our awkward encounter, I had profusely apologized to him.
Me: I'm sorry for being so awkward. I'm just a bit shy.
Him: Yeah, that was an awkward meeting, lol. 😂
Me: I'll try to make it up next time.
Him: Oh, don't worry; it's fine.
Did he not want to meet again? The thought unsettled me. Perhaps my emotions had been too evident, my face an open book. So, I replied just to clarify.
Me: Oh! Okay.
Him: Seen.
In the end, I was left on "seen" by the guy who was apparently my crush.
I quickly reasoned with myself—after all, I had seen him only a few days ago. It wasn't that significant.
With that thought in mind, I got up, struggled with my unruly curls, applied some foundation, my signature eyeliner, and my brown lipstick. To complete the look, I donned my black retro reading glasses, despite my naturally large eyes. I might be virtually blind without them, but at least they concealed my gaze.
The idea that someone could stalk me without my knowledge sent shivers down my spine. Terrifying!
Soon, I left my house and began my journey, encountering a relatable post on my Instagram feed that I promptly shared on my story:
"If it lasts longer than 4 months, then it is more than just a normal crush."
Come on! It had only been a week, and the entire narrative had already unraveled. I thought, dismissing these thoughts from my mind as I entered the college building.
One of my law classmates, Nur, joined me. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a fusion of Arab and Bulgarian heritage. Funny enough, upon first seeing her, I had expected her to be the stereotypical mean girl—arrogant and prideful. Yet, she turned out to be the complete opposite: friendly, caring, and remarkably mature in her understanding of the Yousef situation. No one else comprehended it that way.
"So, did you two talk?" she inquired.
"I messed it all up," I confessed, her eyes silently prompting me to spill the details. I shared everything except for the disturbing nightmare, but soon my gaze was drawn to a group of guys surrounding Yousef, his friends. They noticed me and then turned their attention to him. Teasing sounds filled the air, which took me aback.
Were they mocking me because I had technically slid into his DMs?
Oh God! He was such an ass to share it with his friends. But then again, I had shared it with mine, and they hadn't reacted like this. How utterly childish!
Embarrassed, I made up my mind to ignore him and his gang. It was becoming tiresome, and frankly, I didn't want to face anyone at this point. Each encounter was a struggle, and the prospect of meeting anyone seemed overwhelming.
So, as I moved through the corridors, I ensured my hood was firmly in place. Any moment, I could cross paths with him, despite our purportedly shared
subjects—what a joke.
Soon, a notification flashed on my phone.
Faisal replied to your story:
"Nah! I had her for less than 4 months but she imprinted herself on me."
I couldn't help but chuckle; Faisal was a riot. He was good friend and seemed determined to turn any topic into a joke.
Friday finally arrived, the last day of the term. I walked to college with Zee, who was brimming with excitement as if she were graduating. I had to admit, she looked stunning in her pink top, her hair artfully curled.
"Thanks, BISH," she said, winking at me.
"Seriously? Get out of my head!" I exclaimed.
"I'm the next Klaus Mickelson," she quipped, winking again.
"In your dreams," I rolled my eyes. We exchanged some jokes and continued to college, resembling carefree kids from primary school.
Note: I never forgot to pull my hood over my head as soon as I entered the building.
Zee soon parted ways with me, and as I ascended the stairs to my next class, I noticed Yousef descending from above. He glanced at me, and it almost seemed as though he hoped I would say hello.
I chose to ignore him, not out of intent but rather out of a lack of understanding. It was as if, in his presence, my ability to think and act disappeared, leaving me bewildered.
Hopefully, everything would work itself out. After all, he would be leaving this year to start university a year ahead of me. Good for him!
YOU ARE READING
His Past
Mystery / Thriller"What is it?" I demanded, my anger simmering beneath the surface. "I swear it's not what you're thinking. I know there were times when I felt pressured during our conversation, but..." He began, but I didn't allow him to finish. "Cut the crap! I und...
