T e n

When you shoot an arrow of truth, dip it's point in honey.

-Arabic Proverb

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Recap:

My body gave up and my legs stuttered making me fall to the ground with a thud.

The last thing I heard was Zeyara screaming my name before I fainted.

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Mashal

As my senses returned back to me, I felt an antiseptic smell hit my nose.
That general yellow smell of an old person's house......

I immediately knew I was in a hospital.

"She's my daughter! I brought her up. I'm not giving her back." It was papa's voice, full of bitterness.

"Your daughter? Stop kidding yourself. We both know that you only want Mashal for her money!"
And this was his voice.....my brother's voice. I could easily recognise it.

I tried to open my eyes but my eye lids felt heavy and I couldn't find the strength to force them open.
My limbs felt as fragile as glassware and my head was throbbing as if someone was constantly hitting it with a hammer.

Rebelling against my body, I opened my eyes to take in the grey hospital room and my weak body on the small white bed attached to tubes and wires.

Opposite to my bed, there stood papa and my brother.

"Mashal!" They both said in unison when they noticed my eyes open.

"I-"
I wanted to say something more than just 'I' but my voice refused to come out.

"Are you okay?" Papa rushed up to my side with worry washed over his face.

I was just going to reply when my brother, whose name I still didn't know, interrupted angrily, "She is in this state because of you and now you are the one asking if she's okay!?"

Papa glared at him like a vulture glares at his prey, "Me!? It all started since you showed up!" He bellowed "you are the one who caused all this."

My brother growled at papa stepping closer to him with his black eyes going even more black, "Admit it old man! You never told her the truth."

He was towering over papa but papa didn't back off. He stood there firm, looking straight through his eyes.

Maybe this was the same issue they were arguing over in the living room that day.....when I first saw him.
Even though I was unaware of the whole story and couldn't tell what was right and what was wrong at that time but still I felt bad about the way he harshly addressed papa.

No matter what he really was, for my whole life I had taken papa to be my real father and it just didn't seem right to see someone call him an old man and threaten him.

"Let's just let Mashal decide where she wants to go." Papa whispered lowly and glanced at me with eyes full of hope. "Mashal do you want to stay with us or with this....brother of yours?"

Both of them stared at me with questioning looks plastered on their faces.
"Go on Mashal tell him you want to stay with me!" My brother growled with gritted teeth.

I looked between them; between papa's begging eyes and my newly appeared brother's strong glare.

On the one hand was someone I had spent my whole life with thinking that he was mine and on the other hand was someone who I had never seen before the past month knowing that he was mine.

And for the first time ever in my life I realized, I actually loved papa no matter how he was.
And just how ungrateful I had been.

"Mashal...you can go to college.....you can do anything you want to....just stay with us." Papa pleaded and I think I saw his eyes going wet but then my eyes drifted to my brother.

I didn't even know his name, I didn't even know my roots...my parents, the real ones.

The air was tense and I could see the reason of that. Papa was holding my guardianship papers.

Once signed, my fate would be sealed. I would either be under the guardianship of my real brother or my adoptive father. And I knew that if I chose my brother, I would never be able to see papa or mama or Minahil or Abdullah ever again and if I chose Papa, I would never be able to know my real family.

"Papa...I know you...." I trailed off trying my best to speak.

I saw happiness begin to spark in his eyes when I spoke to him but that happiness soon faded away after my next few words.

"But I need to know who I really am. I want to live with my real family."

I felt a new found confidence inside me as he looked away from my eyes and down at the papers he was holding. Without a word, knowing that it would make no difference at all, he handed the papers over to my brother who smiled victoriously as if he had just won the lottery and signed the papers.

"I'll just go and get them copied." He declared after signing them and walked out of the room ever so casually.

I closed my eyes, struggling, even through the pain, to comprehend how I had reached at this stage of my life.

A stage where I had to choose from options that both seemed correct.

I felt someone lightly kiss my forehead, making me jerk my eyes open, only to realise that it was papa.
Yes I was right when I thought his eyes were wet.

"I may not have told you this before but I'm really proud of you." He confessed, "and I'm going to miss you. The same way I miss your father."

My eyes grew wide with shock and anticipation and I stared at him "You knew my father?"

He nodded a yes and looked down at the ground, "He had to go away for some official work and he left you at my house. I remember promising him that I would take great care of you...but then he never returned."

Papa paused after this and I was well aware of my warm tears rolling over my cheeks.

"I never knew you had a brother. Naeem never told me. I thought it was only you but then one day this boy showed up and claimed to be your brother. He even has the same features as you so I can't deny that."

I gasped silently with every passing second and every piece of information papa was feeding me with.

"I'm sorry I think I failed in fulfilling the promise to Naeem." He whispered with a voice laden with tears.

"No....I'll always call you papa. I love you." I said with trembling lips and a heavy heart.

Papa gave me a weak smile and I smiled back, knowing that words won't suffice at that time.

《□■□■□》

The car kept on rolling on the road which had turned more into a lake due to the relentless drizzle.

But this wasn't new to me, it is always raining in Manchester.

What was new was that I was in Ibrahim's car......my brother's car, heading over to his house.

The nurses at the hospital said that I was good to go now, with just a slight warning to eat properly which I had stopped doing ever since I came across Ibrahim.

After being discharged from the hospital, my first question to my brother was about his name and he gave me a full smile as he replied "Ibrahim Naeem"

Then he drove me over to the house I had spent my whole life in, to get my stuff and meet mama, Minahil and Abdullah.....Maybe for the last time.

Mama and Minahil greeted me cold heartedly and Minahil even commented on 'how glad she was to get rid of me so that she could easily play loud music without being disturbed.'

I actually found her comment emotional and couldn't help but hug her tightly and shed a tear.

She looked taken aback by this and stood numb for a few seconds before she finally gave in and hugged me back.

"I hope I never see you again little sis."
She said with sad eyes when we pulled apart.

I laughed it off, "same here."

Even Abdullah rejoiced about the fact that he could finally have my room which was bigger than his.

Now that I was finally in the car with Ibrahim, it all felt unreal. Like it never happened.

Ibrahim was so happy that he couldn't help but blab about how much he missed me and for how many years he tried to find me but he couldn't because I had started wearing a niqab.

I laughed subconsciously as he continued driving us over to his house in the rain.

"You know I hated you at first. I thought you were a na mehram and you held my hands you remember?"

"Really?" He asked incredulously "so that's why you were so afraid of me in the masjid."

"Yes!" I laughed hysterically remembering that situation.

"Hey big bro, how old are you?" I asked out of curiosity after I recovered from my violent fit of laughter.

"Twenty four." He whispered "but don't tell anyone. Tell them I'm twenty."

Whoa! Twenty four!!

I let out a chuckle and pretended not to be so surprised, "That's what girls do. I didn't know that even boys are age conscious."

He ran a hand over his beard and laughed, "Well....handsome boys are."

I burst out laughing and he joined me. He made me feel so good, so full of life.

I was really happy with my decision.

Once we reached his home, which was not exactly his home, it was on rent, he helped me move my bags inside and up to one of the bed rooms.

I wanted to scream at the untidiness and mess of the house. Every room was full of cobwebs and dust and the carpets looked as if they had never been vacuumed before.

I glared at Ibrahim with eyes narrowed and he raised his hands up in defence, "Don't blame me. I don't even have a wife to clean up."

I crossed my arms in front of me and smirked ruefully, "I don't think any woman would want to marry someone who expects her to clean the house like a maid."

He rolled his eyes and sat down on one of my bags, "Lets make a deal. I'll earn, you'll clean. Okay?"

I scratched my chin pretending to be in deep thought and then exclaimed, "Fair enough!"

He gave me a wide smile and I smiled back.

As Ibrahim was the Imam of Madinah masjid he had to go there for maghrib salah. I asked him why he chose to be the Imam of a masjid which was so far away from where he lived but he replied there was no other mosque around this area.

While he was away, I cleaned mine and his bedroom and the living room to at least make the house inhabitable by humans because otherwise it felt like a dog's kennel.

Also my mind wandered off back to my old street, my old neighbour.
Zeyara was the one who told me all this and the last I remember is that I fainted and then woke up in the hospital with Ibrahim and papa but Zeyara wasn't there.

And I even forgot to ask Ibrahim how he knows Zeyara.
And how Zeyara got those bruises. I'm so selfish, I only cared about myself and didn't even care to inquire him about his injuries.

Oh also, how did I reach the hospital when only Zeyara was there when I fainted.

There is still an awful lot I don't know.

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