Chapter 1

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As I woke up, all I could see was a white ceiling. A woman with brown hair, wearing a white smock leant over me. I could see her lips moving but couldn't make out what she was saying. Suddenly, I sat up straight, panicked. Was I deaf? The woman chuckled as she took the bandage of my ears. Thank god I could hear again!

" Where am I? What happened? Who are you?"

"Now, now, don't worry, everything is fine, you're just in a hospital. I'm just gonna need you to chill out okay? Chill out..."

The last thing I saw was a long, thin needle. Oh god, how I hate needles.

***

"Omar, Omar, OMAR, wake up!"

With effort I opened my eyes to see a fake-worried, smiling woman with a hijab around her head; my mother. A funny woman, she was. Always happy even in the toughest moments of all. Of course it was a fake kind of happy.  To be liked by her was to be the ideal child that never EVER deceives their parents. The ideal child that prays 5 times a day and that respects the religion. 

I was not even close to the ideal child. In fact, I was far, far away! My hypocritical mother hated me for it. You must be thinking that i'm quite an exaggerator but no one hates me more than my mother. She's very, very good at playing hide and seek with her feelings for me. . She's playing with them right now, next to me in this hospital. Once, I heard her praying, begging for me to disappear forever, and be replaced with a lovely, respectful ideal child.

Honestly, she ain't no mother

***

During the trip home, my mother didn't bother ask how I ended up bruised like a professional boxer. Why would she care? Like I said earlier I'm just a crumb in her life anyway. The moment we got home, I hurried up the stairs into the bathroom to see my ruined face. My black eye was swollen, hardly giving any space for my tiny eye to see, I had a huge bandage, with a few blood stains, around my head, I had cuts here and there and my knuckles were raw. What that guy said wouldn't leave my mind.

"What are you?"

Yeah, what am I?

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