I never had it easy.
From watching my parents succumb to the horrors of a car accident to craving the healing presence of the man I love-my entire life-I had navigated through this messy maze I call my life with a shard of hope in my heart.
Every da...
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Mubaraka grumbled in frustration as a knock sounded on her bedroom door, and she closed her eyes to gather her anger before she walked across her room to the door, plastering a faux smile on her face.
"Hello," she smiled at Wahdan. "How may I help you?"
Wahdan pushed past her and climbed up on her bed, jumping up and down on it as if it were a trampoline.
Mubaraka lost her footing, silently watched in agony as her floral bedspread was rumpled under Wahdan's feet, which he probably hadn't washed since how long. Her brother was the messiest person alive. Mubaraka had lost count of how many times she'd begged him to wear deodorant, a statement he'd counter with the fact that the stench was gym-odor and lived to portray his success in maintaining a healthy lifestyle.
As if.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
She rushed over and pushed him down, and he fell on the bed with a thump, staring at the ceiling, his grin showing off his teeth. Mubaraka huffed and sat back down at her desk, picking up her pink pen decorated with glitter and flowers. She was working on an algebraic equation she couldn't get the hang of.
"I saw her today," Wahdan sighed, and Mubaraka turned to observe the glimmer in her brother's eyes before focusing back on her work.
Mubaraka rolled her eyes, skimming over the formula sheet in her hands. "You see her every day."
"She asked me for a pencil."
"Don't tell me you gave her your favorite pencil-"
"I gave her my favorite pencil."
Mubaraka swiveled around, her arm on her chair. "She didn't even bother herself to know your name! That is incredulous!"
Wahdan sat up, in full-on defense mode. "She does know my name!"
