Written In The Scars

Chapter 17

Salma trudged through the bustling market, the roar of hagglers a distant hum to her. She had been ordered by her foster parents again to purchase stock ingredients for the upcoming Eid celebration. Luckily, she didn't have to carry anything this time, instead the merchants would deliver the large orders right to the Motel.

Her eyes brushed over the trail of stones paving the path of the market, her mind thinking of other things or rather a certain someone, when she felt a harsh collision on her shoulder. Ignoring the pain, she apologised to the cursing man, dismissing the bitter words he threw at her as she continued down her path.

Salma glanced at the crumpled paper in her hands. One more stall she had to visit, and then she could return to the Motel to finish what she had been doing since this morning - sulking.

It had been a few days since the encounter with Husaam, and with a new day adding to the count, her hope was deteriorating. Everyday, she had always left a plate of food in the hut but would return in the evening to find it untouched.

She was never going to see him again, ever, and she could only blame herself. Salma didn't even think she would ever see him again. Or that's what she thought, because he hadn't fully explained what was going on. And now he would never, never come to her for help again because she pushed him away.

A sombre sigh escaped her lips.

"What has gotten you in such a down mood?" came a woman's voice. Salma turned to it, and met a familiar face, the face of the seller she was meant to visit last. Immediately, she contorted her expression, forcing a smile out to greet the woman.

"It's nothing much. Thank you for calling out to me, otherwise I would have walked right past your shop." she replied, before explaining the order and making her way back.

As her mind unravelled away from reality, she felt another sharp bump, and automatically started muttering another string of apologies.

"You need to stop daydreaming and watch where you're going," rumbled a familiar rough voice, and Salma's eyes flickered to it, just about catching the figure as he slid past her. Instantly her feet followed, the man's hooded figure glued into her sight.

"Wait," she squeaked out, her voice unable to break past the haggling voices. She continued forward, determined to catch up with him as she slipped and slid through the crowd. "Husaam-,"

However, not matter how much she tried, the distance to him grew futher, until she could no longer follow his trail anymore. Salma stopped against a dusty wall, a hand grasping the worn out bricks as she heaved in frustration. Tears stung her eyes, and threatened to spill but she wiped them away.

It had to be him. No, it was him. She knew his voice, even etched it into her mind by replaying their previous moments.

She knew it was him.

And she also knew she had lost him again.

The walk back home had never felt so painful. Salma struggled to hold back the tears of disappointment, sometimes letting out a sniffle.

As she trudged through the iron gates of the entrance, her ears immediately caught onto the thundering voices inside, before the slamming of a door halted them. She trudged her way up the steps of the front yard, and to her luck, the front doors of the Motel viciously swung open, revealing a red-faced man and woman.

Her future in-laws, which she hated to even think about, to be precise.

Their fuming eyes immediately met hers, immediately forcing her to take a step back.

"You!" Jafr's mother boomed, pointing an intimidating finger at her. "You disgusting whore of a woman! How dare you do that to my son?!"

At her vicious accusations, Salma froze wide-eyed in her spot, unable to comprehend what was going on.