Like Chalk And Cheese [Completed]

The Tragedy

Keeping the phone on the side table, I decided to finally take in a glass of water that I desperately needed, for my throat was now burning. Yes, I forget taking the necessary intake of water, and only when I happen to go to the kitchen do I remember chugging in some.

Tying my hair in a knot, I went down the stairs and wasn't surprised in the least to find the lights turned off. The house was awash in darkness, save for the dull glow coming from the dining room.

I crossed the lounge and was about to step into the kitchen when I thought I caught a glimpse of some shadows. Pulling to a halt, I looked around, breath caught up in my throat. Only a week ago the house across the street was looted, with all the inhabitants tied in thick ropes and gagged until the maids came the next morning and freed them. Was it our turn next?

"Who's there?" I managed to voice as I felt my knees buckle. I sounded like a frog, but who cared? I feared if I turned, a goon would jump at me.

"Hey," it was a woman's voice, "it's me, Warda. Would you come here for a sec?"

As I recognised the voice, I felt relief wash over me. Arching my body, I tried to locate the direction from where it was coming. "Wajiha?" I repeated her name, though a little confused, my eyebrows drawn. "What are you doing in the dark?"

It was completely dark, what with the curtains pulled together, I couldn't see a single thing save for the faint silhouettes of the walls. What on earth was she doing, and where exactly was she?

Walking away from the kitchen, I carefully started forward, careful not to collide into any piece of furniture.

"Where are you?" For some reason, my voice came out in a whisper.

"Over here by the glass doors." She whispered back.

With utter curiosity nagging at the back of my mind, I trudged to the curtains that covered the doors that led into the lawn. I went around the sofa, past the centre table and as I neared the drapes, I asked her again where exactly she was, because a part of me thought her voice seemed to be coming from elsewhere.

"Here, hold this for me, would you?" Just as I heard her say that, two shadowy hands emerged from behind the curtains and passed me a glittering box.

Without a question, I silently took it. Confusion was eating me raw. What the heck was she doing?

"Just a minute, okay?"

My doubts began to grow. Her voice really did seem to be coming from somewhere else. Then who was behind the curtains?

Pulling a face in annoyance, I spoke out. "Would you bother to explain what you're doing?"

"Just a minute." She sounded distant now, her voice was too low.

When a few seconds passed, and there came not a single movement from her end, I started to feel impatient. Tapping my foot on the floor, I debated leaving the box on the centre table and tiptoe the hell out of here. As a huge mouth splitting yawn escaped my mouth, the lights were turned on. My eyes burned with the sudden flush, and I squeezed them shut.

"What are you doing?" I muttered. "Waj-" My voice died in my throat when, upon opening my eyes, and struggling to adjust them to the light, I saw instead of Wajiha, my entire family standing by the wide entrance of the living room. I wasn't unable to gauge their glaring stares.

"Okay, what's happening?" I said with a nervous chuckle, as I let my gaze skirt over their faces. Were they giving me a pre birthday surprise? Unconsciously, I glanced down at the glittering box.

"WHO WAS THAT BOY?!" The loud, hard roar of Baba Jaan reverberated around the house.

I flinched, completely taken aback and suddenly scared. Something was wrong. "What boy?" I stuttered, quite foolishly.

Nobody had to answer my question, because I followed their gazes and looked back over my shoulder. To my utmost horror, I found someone trying to jump over the boundary wall, the curtains now put aside, the glass doors slid open.

I whipped around, preparing to provide an explanation with breath catching in my throat, and utterly bewildered, though only to receive a mind numbing slap from Baba Jaan.

I fell to the floor with the force of it, terrified and shaken out of my wits, feeling the burn of the slap crawl up to the tender skin of my cheek.

"I trusted you!" I heard him growl, enunciating every word with rage and something akin to disgust infused in them.

My limbs turned cold. I couldn't move. No, he didn't. Baba Jaan never trusted me.

Hot tears spilled out, further heating up the burning skin. With the strike of my father, I sensed everybody walk out one by one, leaving me alone, fallen on my knees.

With unblinking eyes, I kept staring at the tiled marble floor, tears dripping down from my chin. Nothing was making any sense. It happened too fast, I couldn't even understand what had transpired.

I don't know how long I had stayed in that position, though my knees and my back had begun to hurt, palms stung from the too long contact with the cold floor.

I sensed someone standing a few feet away, and looked up. My lower lip wobbled when I saw my mother through the blurred vision.

"Get up from the floor, Warda." She sounded strained.

I shook my head, fresh tears pooling out. "I didn't." A sob escaped my mouth with a gasp. "Mama Jaan, I don't know."

She took the steps towards me. "Get up from the floor, you'll catch a cold."

And with that, I completely broke down.

She was then picking me up in her arms, as I wept like a child. I couldn't see anything through the haze, through the gushing tears. Mama Jaan made me sit on the sofa, brought my head to her chest and began running her hand down my hair. Her warmth enveloped my senses, and expelled the chill that kept gathering under my skin, like the embers in the burning coal.

"I didn't Mama Jaan, I didn't." I spoke out, descending into stammering incoherence.

"I know. I could tell by your face." She replied, her tone a soft lull.

"Baba Jaan?" I said, my voice broken, forehead against her cheek.

"When men are angry, Warda, they only see what their eyes show them. They can't see past it."

I hiccuped, swabbing my wet face with the sleeve of sweatshirt.

"What were you doing in the dark?"

And with that, memories rushed back. "I-I came down for water. Wajiha was here. She told me," I pulled away from her chest and pointed at the box on the floor, that I had dropped after the impact of Baba Jaan's slap. "She told me to hold this, and then I don't know what happened to her. Why did she not tell them that I didn't know the guy, that I was alone?"

I really had no idea. I was so naive and a heap of foolish brains to trust people blindly.

"She must be the one accompanying the boy." Mama Jaan sounded grave.

I stared at her dumbfounded, beginning to realise the game that was played.  "Why would she do that?" My voice was quiet as I asked, shocked to my core.

"To save herself." Came the honest reply.

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Mama Jaan had taken me to my room after, and turning off the lights, she told me to not worry and sleep tight. Though she assured me she'd talk to Baba Jaan in the morning, I could feel it in my bones that disaster had struck.

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