Breaking Point

19

Chapter 19

"Salma, where are you?" I said as soon as I picked up the phone.

There was silence. Just a long, aching silence. And then finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard a small whimper, and shuffling, as if the phone had been dropped. A weary sigh filled my ear.

"I just called," Salma sounded faraway, "to tell you I'm not coming home. So stop looking for me."

"Salma, why are you doing this?" 

There was no answer, and I was almost afraid that she had hung up. But before I could speak again, to beg perhaps, she groaned. It was a low, defeated sound.

"What do you mean why?" She whispered. "I can't live like this anymore."

"And me?" I asked, bitterly. "I'm dealing with the same shit you are."

I wanted to be angry. I had forgotten in that moment, that Ian was beside me. I stopped the car on the side of the road and gripped my phone, with a desperation that scared me. What did it mean, if she was going away, giving up? Where would that leave me? Would I break one day, too?

And there was more.

"What about mom?" I said, desperately.

"It's because of mom I tired to hang on." Salma cried. "But no more. I can't stand it. I want to go away from all this."

"But you can't just leave us."

"I'm sorry." Salma said. "I'm already out of the city. Don't look for me. Goodbye, Abdullah."

The line went dead and I stared open mouthed out the window, my phone uselessly pressed to my ear. I slumped into my seat, all the last flickers of hope leaving my body. What was I to do now? It was then when I realized that Ian was still besides me, his face contorted with shock and worry.

I wondered, for about the fiftieth time, just what the hell this small, golden haired kid was doing here. This whole mess was mine.

"I didn't even know she had a boyfriend." He whispered. "And what a jerk he turned out to be."

I didn't answer, and instead, stared out at the street, at the flashing cars that whizzed by, blurred behind my tears. I turned my face away. My mother was waiting at home, waiting for me to bring back Salma. 

And I would return without her.

"She didn't seem to be into those types of guys, you know." Ian went on and I was barely listening.

"I'm so stupid." He laughed to himself.

I thought of my mother, of her hunched over form in front of our door, waiting. Her hopeful eyes when I would return home, her grief stricken face when she realized I was alone.

"Why would she care about me?" Ian said, voice shrinking.

I slowly looked at him, confused.

"Why would I think that she would give me a second look?" He almost whispered. Ashamed.  

Heartbroken.

I blinked. 

Oh, it made sense now.

- -

The next few days passed by in a blurry haze. My mother stayed at home, unable to find the will to go to work. The police stopped by a few times, asking questions, looking into details. I supplied all the information I could, pleading them to track my sister down. They left with no promises, just assuring us that they would do all they could. I constantly jumped every time my phone beeped, hoping it was Salma.