Last night the phone call she had received had been one of the best of Haya's life.
Until the police officer said those words.
Those haunting words.

"Ma'am he wants to see you"

The officer had said it with so much ease.
As if it was a breeze, just any other occurrence.

It may have been like that him for him, but to her this wasn't just a breeze, it was a storm and she had to hold on.
She simply told the officer she would think about it but she was a hundred percent sure she wouldn't ever go to see him.

To make things worse, or better, today was her doctor's appointment.
They would finally be taking off her bandages and she would be free.
Or would she?

She just feared she would lose it like she did the first time.

Her parents obviously wanted to go with their daughter and so they drove together down to the hospital.

After waiting for a few minutes, the surgeon walked in with the nurse. He informed them that everything looked fine, the dissolvable stitches seemed to be well too and that they were ready to remove the bandages now.

Once again, she felt like a prisoner being released. Only this time, she was actually feeling free, she didn't feel like a ticking time bomb.
It is what it is now. She couldn't change anything.

The nurse asked if she wanted a mirror to look at herself but she politely declined the offer.

She didn't want the whole hospital to think she was crazy, in case she freaked out when she saw herself again.

The doctor prescribed her some painkillers just in case, but informed her that she wouldn't be needing them.

As she drove back home after the surprisingly short doctor's appointment, the sun seemed to be a bit too happy.
Which made her forehead sweaty and her heart happy. Maybe it was a sign.

She heard voices inside her house as she stepped in and she discovered it was Zayan and his family visiting them.

"The house-help let us in." Mrs. Sheikh, Zayan's mother explained

"Oh since when do you have to explain!" Mrs. Siddiqui exclaimed and hugged her friend

At the moment she entered, the whole room fell silent and for a minute, everyone's honest expression shone on their face.

Mr. Sheikh looked at her with awkwardness.
Mrs. Sheikh looked at her with pity and another expression she really couldn't put a finger on, she had never looked at Haya that way.

And Zayan, well he looked at her the same way he always did.
Like she was the most beautiful woman ever.

"Oh..darling. Umm...how are you?" Mrs. Sheikh came forward and hugged her awkwardly. Her behavior puzzled Haya, for she never expected her to act this way. The lady had been a second mother to her so her reaction was saddening.

"I'm good, thank you. I'm actually just gonna rush to the restroom. Please excuse me." She said and ran up to her room.

She carefully tiptoed in, as if scared of her own room.

She avoided the mirror in her bedroom and instead walked to the washroom.
It was a stupid thing, but the lighting in the washroom had always made her skin look prettier, and she wouldn't miss any chance to feel beautiful.
Not today.

Her phone ringed, it was a text from Zayan.
"Please remember no matter what you think you see in the mirror. You're beautiful, always have been and always will be."

She rolled her eyes, smiling to herself.
For the first time in the few moments, she actually heard the sound of her heart thudding. Everything felt so eerily silent, she could hear fear coursing through her veins like blood.

Fear of her face, fear of who she was.

She slowly lifted her gaze, preparing her mind for the absolute worst to stand in front of her.
As her eyes landed on the mirror, she didn't feel the ground crashing beneath her, she didn't hear an ear splitting scream and neither did she feel ugly.
Quite the opposite, actually

Her face looked like a mosaic. Like something shattered had come together to create something beautiful, to create her.

Even though the stitches were dissolvable, it was still pretty clear where one skin graft ended and another began.
Her previously indistinguishable features now seemed distinguishable.

This wasn't her face, not her old face at least.
But this was Haya Siddiqui.

She could swear she just heard a 'click' sound in her mind. Like two broken pieces joining.

And just like that, she realized it was her broken soul.
She finally found a way to heal her soul.
And the way, the key, was Haya herself.

The moment she started accepting herself, loving herself, was the moment everything would start falling into place.

Sure, she hadn't landed herself in this situation but she had to be the one to get herself out of this mess. And the only way to do that was through herself.

It wasn't like she had started seeing a clear road in front of her. She still wasn't sure how she was going to help herself, but she knew she had to do it and when Haya Siddiqui set her mind to something, more often than not, she completed the task.

Instead of an inhuman wail making its way out of her throat, a giggle escaped. The little giggle soon turned into a full blown smile.

Soon she sprinted down the stairs. Both of the families were surprised to see her like this, they clearly weren't expecting this.

"Can me and Zayan go to McDonald's? You guys met after so long you're gonna be talking for hours. Also, I'm really hungry." She said as soon as she entered the living room.

"The kid has a point." Mr. Sheikh said

"Okay you guys go have fun. Besides, you both need to spend some time together too." Mrs. Sheikh added and Mrs. Siddiqui looked at her with a bit of surprise

"What are you talking about? These two have been going out together the whole week." Mrs. Siddiqui said

Mrs. Sheikh looked confused for a moment, before she nodded and laughed to herself.
"Silly me, always forgetting." She laughed again, even though by now everyone knew she was lying.

Zayan grabbed Haya by the hand and basically dragged her out of the house. The grip he had on her hand made it very obvious that he was angry.
Some part of her wanted to ask him why he hadn't told his mother they had been together almost everyday, it wasn't like they were doing something wrong.
But she stopped herself because nobody, not even her, dared to ask him about his relationship with his mother. Mrs. Sheikh was a very nice woman but her and Zayan had never seen eye to eye and almost never got along. Haya had more sense than to poke a sleeping bear.

Instead of going to McDonald's, they took a detour and opted for Chinese food by the road instead.

"You look happy." He pointed out the obvious

"I am." She replied

"So no crying and screaming and wanting me to kill you this time." He asked, clearly mocking her and she narrowed her eyes at him
"Too soon to joke about it?" He laughed

"No. You're allowed to joke, I put you through hell that day." She laughed too.

"Nah, cupcake. You're allowed to do anything you want to me." He said and she tried to stop herself from laughing because of her dirty mind but she was doing a lousy job at controlling her laughter today. Apparently so was he.

So they sat at the dirty corner of the road, with greasy plates in hand and huge grins on their faces. From afar, everything was perfect, nobody could see the cracks within, not even them.

And then, in the middle of one of the most purest moments ever, he brought in the sugar coated chaos.
"I love you." He said

The common response to such a statement is usually positive.
It's the way the world works.

One person says the L word, the other person says it back.
It's a simple process, really. However, in her mind, it caused chaos.
She thought of everything she could say at the moment. Just randomly running away from him seemed like a better option than saying the L word back. Not because she didn't love him, but because she did, only she was still scared, confused and somehow unsure of her feelings.

"Please don't put your mind into overdrive. Me saying I love you doesn't mean you're obligated to say it back." He said and even though it should've made her breathe easy, it did the opposite

"But then I'm the bitch. I don't wanna be that!" She exclaimed and he laughed

"No it doesn't. I'm not going to lie, I wish you could say it back but that doesn't mean you will and that doesn't have to mean you will." He said.

She simply dragged her chair forward and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Thank you." She said. It wasn't just for not pressuring her to say the L word back. It was for everything he had done for her. From every grand gesture down to the tiniest of details, like remembering to give her all of his red skittles.

He hugged her back, his hand at the back of her head.
"You're welcome, cupcake." He breathed heavily, inhaling her scent.

No matter how many times she hugged him, every time it felt like coming home, like nostalgia.

It was a bittersweet feeling but she cherished every minute of it.

He was her happy place, her safe place. If she could give him one title, it would be of the best person in her life right now.

Later that night, as she looked at her phone, she saw her surgeon had texted her a picture.
It was a picture of her before and after surgery and he wanted to know if he could share the picture, to show his work of course.

Her face 'before' was crinkled, it had no distinct features and it was..burnt.
Her face looked like a million things she couldn't describe. And as her mind roamed over those million things, the word 'ugly' never appeared in her mind.

That's because the picture wasn't ugly. She wasn't ugly. Surgery or no surgery, she was beautiful.
It was all just a matter of perspective.

Suddenly, she found herself beautiful. She felt a confidence she hadn't felt even when her face hadn't been burnt.

It was a feeling that was indescribable and probably temporary, but it made her feel strong.
She was previously questioning how Zayan found her beautiful and now she knew why, because he never saw her like that.

To him, her beauty was everything including her face, not just her face.
If Zayan could love her, why couldn't she love herself?

It wasn't going to be easy or permanent, but this was one step forward in her road to recovery. Slowly but surely, no matter how or in what condition and mindset, she was sure would walk the road.

Thus, she made the decision to go see Mohsin in jail.
Her rage needed to be directed at the person who deserved it.