'{DEDICATED TO YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE THE LIKE BESTEST PEOPLE I HAVE COME ACROSS ON WATTPAD. YOU WERE ACTUALLY THE FIRST PERSON I FOUND TO BE FAN OF DIVERGENT. AND I'M IN LOVE WITH SEBASTIAN AND HAMSA AND YAHYA AND LAMEES AND ZAYN. FOR THOSE OF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT READ HER BOOK 'THE GIRL IN GREEN SCARF'  YOU GUYS WILL LOVE IT. LOVE YOU, MISS PEARL!! <3 }

The strongest have the right to breakdown sometimes.'- Me

CHAPTER THREE

More Untold Stories

(Maahirah Furqaan)

10th January.

I trudge downstairs, balancing my backpack, sneakers, jacket and cellphone in my hand. As soon as I jump the last stairs, I dump my shoes down and throw my cellphone in my bag. I drag myself to kitchen then. Placing my bag on the table, I shrug on my jacket and then, I walk over to the sink to wash my hands. Grabbing my sandwich and coffee in Styrofoam cup, I sling my backpack on my shoulder, and I'm out of the house, with the car keys jingling in my hand.

Dad is shovelling the driveway. I watch in amusement for we minutes, as he brings his shovel forward pick up the snow and then toss it to the side, to our little patch of garden. You see, shovelling is my chore and not Dad's cup of tea. It must have had snowed last night because as far my memory recalls, I remember no blizzard.

"Hey Dad." I say.

He jumps, a foot in the air. "Maahirah."

Ah, my old man.

"Oh Dad. Give me this." I chuckle. I shove my sandwich and coffee in his surprised hands as I snatch the shovel. Even though, I hate doing this every time -- no, wait scratch that -- I hated doing this. Whenever I used to do this, I would grumble the entire time, and yet, here I'm finding a solace and comfort in this hideous task.

"Mom and Neez left?" I ask him after five minutes of silence.

"Yeah, and I should leave too." He replies.

I nod, hurrying up with the shovelling. Dad has done most of it and I only did like 25% of it, but it is enough for our cars to pass. Mom never parks in the driveway according to her, it makes her late. Dad and I park our cars in the driveway, like proper civil humans. I snicker internally.

I fling the shovel to the side and take my breakfast from Dad. "Thank you, Daddy." I drop a kiss on his cheek, and I can almost hear him exhale with relief? With happiness? I don't know.

I get into my old beat up car, and immediately turn on the heater. Dad walks up to the porch and waves me off, and goes back inside to probably retrieve his car keys and to make sure everything in the house is right and to lock the doors.

Yeah, my Dad is paranoid when it comes to locking up the house.

I back out of the driveway, and just as my car slides off from it and Dad exits the house and quickly locks the door, glancing at his watch. Muttering something, he walks up to his car almost as if I'm not even there.

Shaking my head, I turn the wheel to the right and pressing the accelerator, I speed away.

My heart gnaws the intercoastal muscles of my ribs that is how fast it's beating. The grip on the wheel is increased like I'm a new driver and I'm gripping the wheel like my life dependent on it. Here is a thing: Mom and Dad are terrified around me.

Yes. Terrified. Scared. Frightened. Careful.

Within one week of my return, I deduced this that they talk less around me. They smile rarely. They keep their heads bowed. And if Vaneeza, my sister, relates something exciting, either of them hushes her up immediately and cast an apologetic look at me. I'm a stranger living at my place. So, I do one thing, I lock myself in my room and just sit on the bed, reading or doing some school work.

Somehow, thy have this whole idea cropped in their heads that I'm a grenade. I will explode any second, any minute. And, when I do that, then only they will console me. All they are doing is giving me space, and this space is now suffocating me.

I don't need a constant reminder of hell of life that I had to endure throughout the winter break. I need to live in here again with the same carefree way. I don't need to be bounded to someone. And, this is my resolution of the day. it. To live in the now.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm parking in the school parking lot. Five minutes later, I'm getting down from the car. And, three minutes later, I'm in the school hallway in front of my locker.

I'm pulling out my AP Biology book when someone walks behind me and whispers near my ear.

"BOOM!"

I expected myself to shriek or jump a foot in the air, but with a roll of my eyes, I shut the metal door and come face to face with a mouth open Darren Anderson.

"Hey Darren."

"Jeez. You did not go all girly on me with all that sequel and you know, girly stuffs."

I smile at his goofiness. "You were totally obvious. Pretty loud with all that tiptoe. You need to work on it."

He crosses his arms across his broad chest and frowns. "You're telling me to work on my sleuthing skills?"

Sideways, I press my shoulder to the locker and cross my ankle over over the other ankle, very much amused by this conversation. "Yes, your 'sleuthing skills' need hell lot of training."

"I'm hurt." He puts a dramatic hand over his chest. "So how have you been?"

I become rigid when he asks me this. Somehow, he is the second person who can read my face easily. He has been stuck with me through out the week. When he and I have the same class, he sits with me. At home, he calls at least a three times to check up on me, He's caring, and that is what he has my heart soften when it comes to him.

Today, however, it is not the case. Today I keep my face impassive, neutral and say, "I'm doing perfect. What about you?"

My answer with such energy shocks him. His eyes widen just for a fraction. He angles his face as if to analyze my comeback, and then says, slowly. "You do seem the old you with all that sarcasm kind of answer. Hmm. An improvement."

I simple roll my eyes.

"You should....." He stops and squints at something or someone behind me.

I spin around to find a girl; amber hair in waves, pale blue eyes twitching nervously, a sky blue blouse with a white mini-skirt and white tights, and books hold closely to her chest. Her cheeks flushed red, and it looked beautiful on her high cheekbones. In fact, she is epitome of beauty.

When she catches me looking at her, she quickly straightens up and walks over to me. Her walk suddenly confident.

"Um, hey." She waves at me. "I'm Miranda Colleen. I'm kind of lost. And, I saw your badge." She nudges at my head girl's badge. "Can you direct the way to the office?"

"Uh, yeah. Just turn left when you are at the end of this hallway. Walk straight and take right and just go through the double doors. You will reach your destination." I reply.

She nods and smiles, "I'll see you around."

I watch her galloping away and not until she turns left, I'm broken by whatever spell she had on me. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath.

"I swear, that was weird." Darren voices my thoughts.

"You felt it, huh? Like a spell kind of?" I bite my lip. "Though, I'm surprised, how did she even see my badge? I mean, my back was facing her."

Darren drops his Physics book on the floor. But that doesn't break his stance. He is staring at me like I just announced that I inherited Bill Gates' entire wealth.

I bend down and pick his book. That breaks him. "Oh shit, Maahirah." He curses and I cringe. "How did she know who you were? I bet she knew your name. God. God." He runs his hand through his almond coloured hair. "I need to do a background check on her." He rubs his eyes.

"Hey, calm down. I'm sure we are fretting over nothing." I try to reason.

He rolls his mouth. "We need to be sure. Just in case," He snatches his book from my hands. "I'll see you in the third." He turns around and then adds, "Mr.Brackson wants to see you. You must go now." With that, he is gone.

Frowning, I quickly make my way upstairs and on my second turn to the right, I'm standing in front of the Biology Lab, and knocking with my fingers on the door.

His deeply gruff voice calls me in.

Hesitantly and reluctantly, I push the door and get in, knowing very well what I'm about to hear. Since my return from Elton, I've bonded up well with him. He is sitting on his desk. Glasses perched on his nose. He left hand fingers rubbing his forehead. His eye roaming over the paper on his table while the blue pen in his right hand graded it.

"Um, Mr.Brackson, you wanted to see me." I grasp his attention weirdly.

My voice does alter him. He drop the pen and looks at me, surprised that I even listened to Darren. "Jeez Maahirah. Please take a seat." He gestures at the chair.

I plop on it, and put my backpack down. I look up to find his hand outstretched -- a paper. I swallow hard, as I take it from him. It was the test we had on Wednesday and I know, I flunked the test. And, proof is present because there on the left corner, a B- mocks me.

"What happened? This is the first time, you didn't score an A+." He runs his hand through his blonde hair.

I look away from his piercing eyes. A rage builds up in me, and I reply him sarcastically. "You know why."

He isn't expecting this kind of answer from me and he doesn't hide the shock as his eyes widen and he stares at me. A part of me starts immediately feeling guilty, but I shut that part off and scowl at him.

"Maahirah what happened was supposed to happen ages ago. But, it was Aseer who was protecting you, keeping you away from Elton."

I pretend to find the lines in the inner side of my hand interesting. These lines that have my whole fate etched in them.

"It was wrong, wasn't it? And, then all of sudden I'm told about Elton and my dead mother." I say, bitterly.

Mr.Brackson sighs. "I have known your mother my entire life. We used to play together when we were kids. We went to same elementary school."

Then, I  find the zigzag pattern on the tiles very much worthy of my attention; but the truth is I'm listening and waiting for him to launch into a story, and he does.

"I saw your mother grow and morph into a beautiful person. She went London to continue her higher studies, and I moved to New York. At that time, we used to send each other letters and pictures of our new adventures. I saw the glow her face radiated when she was around your father. I saw how over the moon she was on her wedding." He is staring at the window that overlooked the school courtyard. He has this deep look in his eyes like he can feel the wheel reeling in his mind. "When she found out about you, it was that time she decided she needed to shift continents just to keep you safe. She had you in London and then you parents moved to Minnesota. All the while, you mother wanted was your safety."

I bite my lip. "Then, why did you she faked her death? Was that fair to an eight year old?" My voice thick.

These are the questions that haunt me. These are the question, Mum did not answer me whole heatedly. And, it surprises me that I'm finding my consolation in Mr.Brackson. All those emotions that I had bottled up since one week, come bolting out all of sudden now. I want to scream and yell, but I restrain myself.

"When the Aslams were attacked and Mr.Aslam was brutally murdered, Aseer got scared. She and Ruqayyaa, Mrs.Aslam were best friends. So, generally she knew about Aseer's whereabouts and because of this reason the family was tortured."

I gasp so loudly. "They....Aayan didn't tell me that," His name rolls out of my tongue, unconsciously. I have been avoiding his name. "I killed his father." I let my head fall in my hands. "I killed their family's head. Oh God,"

Mr.Brackson lets out a low grumble. "No. No. No. Maahirah. You didn't."

"But, I did. If I weren't born, Mum and Dad would still be married, and Inayah would have had her father." By now, tears have leaked out.

"God, Maahirah. Just listen, okay?" He looks uncomfortable. I can see that he is not very good with tears.

"Aayan and you were and are the target even now. Aayan less but you more. You are a gem and every life in Elton is supposed to guard you with their life. When Magnus, the magician made the prophecy about you, at that time, Mr.Aslam was the head of Elton, he made everyone sign a pledge to keep you safe and protected no matter what happened. We signed it, Maahirah. Each one of us." He takes a deep breath. "Your mother fled, forged her death and came to Elton. She told everyone that she had killed you. I knew she hadn't because four years ago, when I saw you the first time, I was shocked but I kept Aseer's secret. Not until you were in 11th grade, the secret was out. Eltonians knew you were alive and sooner or later, Wiltonians found out about it too."

I swallow, hard. This is all new to me. I didn't know any of this.

"Aseer was drowning in misery and culpability. She was in love with your father. She missed you and she blamed herself for destroying Ruqayyaa's house. Ruqayya was a good friend. She stayed through thick and thin with Aseer." He pauses. "You know, Maahirah it was a good thing that Aseer revealed this world late to you."

"Why?" I say, hoarsely.

"Because now all her friends dead, she has a mission to keep you alive."

Once again, Mr.Brackson's eyes clash with mine, and I know, he is reading me and I know, he has it all figured it out. I break the gaze, distressed.

"And, why didn't you call her, Maahirah?" He finally asks the dreaded question. "Do, you really think that locking up whatever happened with you in the back part of your mind is gonna take you anywhere? Not talking to your parents at home, and completely unaware of the fact that next weekend is your only sister's eighth birthday."

My mouth drops open. "H....how?"

"I'm a major in Psychology and I keep tabs on your house." He smirks. "Maahirah, your Dad and your step-mom need you. Don't lock them out. Talk to them and accept the reality that you're a special person. That you have bigger opportunities in front of you. Don't stop living."

"I'll try." I say ashamed, rubbing the tears from my face. Because I have been causing innumerable amount of grief to my parents. I make a mental-note to talk to them this weekend. We can maybe watch a movie....My train of thoughts is cut off when he mentions one name.

"And, Aayan?"

My breath hitches in, and abruptly the whole spacious room becomes too small for me. Invisible knives pierce in my stomach, in my heart. I can't talk about him. It's too much. I jump up from the seat and Mr.Brackson shoots up, too.

"Maahirah, listen." Mr.Brackson has rounded his desk and now is in front of me. "I didn't mean to make you anxious, or anything. All I asked was...."

"He won't talk to me. He won't answer my calls. But, that's okay. I have stopped calling him now. I can make it through on mine. I'm fine, Mr.Brackson."

"You mean to say, that boy hasn't apprised you on what he is doing and all." Mr.Brackson shakes his head at me, unwilling to believe to what he just heard. "Tell me," He looks at me urgently but whatever he is about to say is cut off by the bell.

I sigh in relief. I didn't want to talk about Aayan. Not now. Not today. Not ever.

I skip over to my seat just as Ellie enters. She raises an eyebrow at me early arrival and I simply push my paper in her hands as she plonks next to me.

"Oh," She says, loudly. "I'm sorry. But, I know you will manage through this. You must be missing your aunt."

I look at her pouting. Oh, how oblivious she is to my problems and troubles? And, really, ignorance is bliss.

I nod, stiffly.

"C'mon Maahirah, smile. You can't wallow now. It was just a stupid test."

"It was, wasn't it?" I smile sincerely at her.

When she is looking at her book, I shake my hear exasperated at myself. Oh God, I'm so confusing; one second, I'm crying and the other, I'm smiling. It's official I need some mental therapy . I'm gone absolutely crazy.

"Okay, class now that everyone is here." Mr.Brackson begins but he's cut off when Arianna raises her hand in the air.

"Yes, Ms.Dera?"

"Isn't Aayan going to be in this class?"

I choke up on my saliva which I cover quickly up with the gulp of water from the bottle.

Mr.Brackson's eyes meet mine and I can see a look of proper despondence crossing in them as he catches me trying to act normal.

"No, he won't. Now, without interruptions please let's just begin the class." He turns to the board.

But, when I sweep my gaze back to my books, I see another pair of eyes, squinting me. I look up, perplexed to find Chace in front of our desk, turned our way to stare at me, openly. The look he has , makes me shiver down my spine. Clearing his throat, he quickly glances away as Mr.Brackson begins teaching us about 'Biotechnology and it'd Application. '

My mind is buzzing with new information, with Aayan's thoughts and now Chace's lingering gaze so I find it really hard to concentrate on the lecture. But, when my mind does develop interest when we are learning about how bacteria is used to prepare excess of insulin, how the application of recombinant DNA has made life saving changes and how a clone sheep, Dolly was made in 1997 a knock comes on the door shaking everyone out of their trance.

"Good morning. I'm sorry, I'm late." In walks, Miranda Collen. Audible gasps rings in the class. Not just from me but from boys.

Mr.Brackson stares at her, as if trying to remember something. "Are...are you sure you're in this class?"

"Yes," She nods enthusiastically, and hands him a piece of parchment.

He traces his eyes over it and asks her."Your name?"

"Miranda Colleen."

"You moved from....?"

"Florida."She's flusterated while answering him. Of course, he is handsome. Our teacher.

He swallows hard. I can see us Adam's apple bobs up and down. "Take a seat."

When she's strolling to an empty seat beside Chace (surprisingly!) Mr.Brackson's green eyes clash with mine, and I'm shocked to find him looking.......defeated and guarded.

I can't help but shudder. Darren thinks something is fishy about her and so does my teacher.

I close my eyes. Trouble, I can sense you.

******************

When the last period bell rings, Ellie has already dashed hurriedly out of the class. Apparently, her mother is picking her up and she has to get to work and if Ellie comes a minute late, she would leave her stranded on the road. Oh God. I throw my Calculus book in my bag and saunter out of the class. Just as i'm outside in the hallway, Chace walks along with me.

My heart beat elevates and suddenly I'm sweating. Chace smiles broadly at me. His blonde hair falling on his eyes. He is cute, the same one I knew from the last four years. But, something feels different about him, and I can't exactly pinpoint it.

"So, how ya been?"

"Good!"

"Hmm." He comes in front of me. I gasp and haul myself to stop.

"You know, I don't understand something that how can you look so down to the dumps when you just came from 'far, far countryside.' No one gets this emotionally detached when they meet their aunts and uncles." He leans in closer to me . I'm rooted. "I can't help but think there is something out of line here." The way he air-quotes everything and the way he looks so nonchalantly makes me oxygen deprived. "If I were you, I'll say be careful. maybe."

"What do you mean?" I voice out, keeping sure my voice stays out of any trembling that might gives me away.

"Nothing. Just. There's something that i'm willing to find like maybe you eloped. I'll see you on Monday. Have a good weekend." With that, he leaves. The air of cockiness, certainty and probably evilness gone with him. I gape at his retreating skip, his annoyingly cheerful whistles echoes in the hallway.

He is gone but I stare at his retreating back. My heart pummeling in my chest. The world's oxygen won't be enough to keep me stable right now. The force of gravity loses its hold on me, and I lean onto the locker to hold for some support. The buzzing kind of voice increases in my ear. The world roams around just as I know I'll fall, hands grab me into embrace.

"Hey. What's wrong?" My crippled and disorganized mind registers this voice as Darren's.

"Oh, Darren." I have my fingers on his collars and I pull it urgently. "He knows. He knows something." I say between my sobs.

"Who?" He pulls me away from him. 

"Chace." I draw the words out.

"Oh shit."  He curses. I'm not sure on what because exactly that second his phone starts ringing and I realize that his hands are still on my arm. I shrug them off, embarrassed. He is not my Mehrem, not Aayan. 

Darren realizes this again and mutters. "Shit." 

****************************

EID MUBARAK TO YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE OUT THERE. MAY THIS EID BRING BLESSINS AND HAPPINESS FOR US ALL. REMEMBER MADINAH SYRA AND PALESTINE IN YOUR PRAYERS. WHAT HAPPENED IN MADINAH HAS ME STILL SHAKEN! MAY ALLAH PROTECT THIS UMMAH.

HOW WAS THIS CHAPTER? OH MY GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH CHACE? WHAT DO YOU THINK HE KNOWS? AND DON'T YOU THINK MAAHIRAH IS RELYING TOO MUCH ON DARREN? NEXT POV AAYAN. I'M SO EXCITED THE STORY HAS BEGUN.

COMMENT QUESTION: I'll like to know my readers a little bit. So tell me which country/city are you reading this from? If you're shy to tell me that let me know the continent at least.

VOTE AND COMMENT IT MAKES ME HAPPY. AND EVERY DAY WHEN I SEE NOTIFICATIONS I'M ON CLOUD NINE. SO THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME SMILE. I LOVE YOU ALL.

Follow me on instagram @wardah_muj  I use  this one a lot. This is a bit personal one. Take care and have amazing Eid.

Love,

Wardah.

PS: I have henna on my hands right now! ;)