Guilted: Wars Against The Past (Editing)

P r o l o g u e

Life is such that you need to look at all things closely, the littlest of things form the greatest of things, there's beauty in everything, there's beauty in simplicity and there's beauty even in darkness.

The loud sirens made his muscles relax more than the Coca Cola he was having. The dark night made it even better as the street lights were in a great fuse, he loved how the blue red lights were blurring everything and as for the scene in front of him, he was seated relaxed and calm with his legs crossed and his signature smirk on show.

It felt greatly good to be finally free from everything that kept him held up from enjoying life. Finally, he could do whatever feels good.

"Dude, it's a freaking crime scene. Not the movies. I mean, at least have some respect!" Kalim reproved.

"Yes, I'm inspecting."

His friend rolled his eyes, "Whatever man, just make sure I don't get glares from my boss because of you."

"Your boss's boss is my uncle. So, I'd like to say the same for him." He reminded before smirking at his friend who in return only huffed and left him.

Soon Abed's eyes caught the sight of a familiar girl not so far from where he was, a paramedic was putting a blanket over her shoulders and was reassuring her. She must be the neighbour. And what seemed like, she went to the same university as him. He looked away when she caught him staring at her, he cringed in his seat when she was storming towards him.

"What is wrong with you? Do you think it's funny what happened here?!" She yelled at him, fully aware of the person in front of her.

The infamous heartless billionaire.

"Um, that depends! So, do you see me laughing?" Abed shrugged, his deep voice sounded annoyed.

"No, I see you having the time of your life when someone was brutally shot to death. And why are you even here, Kalim's not allowed to bring you along with him, on whose authority you thought you could be here?" She spat, Abed only yawned.

He slowly got up, walked up close to her and worded out, ever so slowly, "On my authority!"

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" She yelled at him as he was about to leave.

"I think I'm Abed. What about you, who do you think you are?" The harshness in his straight tone scared her, she knew to stay silent then, but she needed to say this,

"You never understand something until the same thing happens to you!"

Abed furrowed his brows at her words, clenched his jaw and looked away. She stormed away from him before a scene could make everything worse than it already was.

"Women!" He muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes as he gulped down his coke.

"Speaking of women . . ." Kalim trailed off, his words tense and he didn't look very good.

Abed laughed at his horrible expression, "What's wrong? What did you see in there? Rookies these days scare me more than the crime scene."

"No, Abed you don't understand! It's Taraa!"

Kalim breathed out and Abed gulped. And when Kalim actually broke it out to him, Abed felt like he didn't even know life. But he knew two things. Dina was right, and the whole point of the crime scene was a reminder.

"We belong to Allah and to Allah we shall return."

* * *

The screeching cold withered around the cemetery causing chills to run up his skin as he leaned on the tree and watched the grieving man from afar with his scrutinizing eyes. The bitter-cold wind kept howling only to sooth his mind and he breathed in the weather for comfort.

The weather was cold and so, so was he.

It was nearing dawn when the said grieving man walked towards his car and left shortly.

Then, it was his turn. It was his turn to visit the same grave the grieving man had visited. He wasn't sure what he'd feel when he'd stand in front her grave.

Taking a long gulp, he strode towards the grave.

Whilst walking, in the abyss of black and white, her memories had started filling up in his mind. He closed his eyes to make them go away but the thing is, once something consumes your mind, it takes a hard and a long time for you to extract it away.

It was then when he stood before her grave. It was hard for him to imagine, how a few weeks ago she was still alive, still in the hands of safety, still happy and still had the world to herself.

But now, she lay deep beneath the cold ground.

Oh, but a guy like Abed knew very well that she was better off without the world, that she was in peace beneath this soil, that God will surely have mercy on her soul. She was such a grid person.

His face hardened at this realization and then he kneeled to the ground. Of course, he wasn't going to talk to the dead body, or shed some handful of tears for something that's long gone. Instead, with his calculating eyes, he observed the grave where a few shrubs were blooming, and the mud looked like as if the ground was swallowing all of it. He took a fistful of sand and then he felt the strangest thing ever. As the sand was slipping beneath his fingers, he closed his eyes and breathed in heavily as a familiar ode flashed through his mind,

"Thereof We created you, and into it We shall return you, and from it We shall bring you out once again." (20:55)

He knew where it came from, he knew what it meant, and he knew why it flashed.

The better him always tries to outrun him. And always fails. One last look at her grave, and he stood up to leave. He knew there'd be different kind of ways the better him would try to get to him.

The hesitation, the memories, the queerness, and the verse. Smart move. But he was smarter. Petty moves like these won't be enough for his switch to flip on. Perhaps, he needed something stronger, bigger and something painful.

All of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks and felt it. He finally acknowledged it. After all this time, he could literally see it, that the heaviest of matters had stung on his chest. It was there from the very beginning, but he was way too cold to feel it, way too angry to realize it, and way too blind to see it.

And that's the thing about guilt. That's how guilt works, if you play dirty, it plays dirtier.

It only makes its presence known only after it is fully grown; stronger and ever hurtful.

Surely, how does it feel to have your past haunt you back again even when you have moved on?