When it hurts the most
544 Words
Chapter Two: “Where It Hurts the Most” (Part 1)
The next morning, everything looked the same.
The hallway was filled with the smell of Dadi’s incense. Mahira was yelling at someone about her missing mascara. Ayla was giggling in the kitchen. Zidan was fighting with Abbu over car keys.
But Areeba...
She sat on the rooftop, her scarf unpinned, hair clinging to her face like forgotten thoughts.
No one knew what happened last night.
No one knew she had let go of something she never really had.
Her eyes were dry, but her chest felt like a cracked window — letting in air, but not peace.
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At Breakfast
“Areeba, tumhare exams aa rahe hain, kitna time barbaad karti ho roof pe?” Ammi scolded without looking up from her plate.
“She’s probably writing another one of her poems,” Mahira muttered, smirking.
Areeba didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
Words felt too heavy. Even swallowing tea hurt.
But Ayla… Ayla noticed the silence. The stillness.
She slid a boiled egg onto Areeba’s plate quietly and whispered,
“Your eyes look like you’ve been sleeping with your heart open.”
Areeba blinked at her.
Ayla… always noticing without asking.
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At University
She avoided every hallway where Rafael might be.
She changed her route to class. Left early. Spoke only when forced.
But one afternoon, as she left the library, she saw him again — standing beneath the same neem tree where they once talked about poetry and mangoes.
Their eyes met.
His were red, tired.
Hers… blank.
He didn’t come forward.
And she didn’t stop.
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Back at Home – The Misunderstanding
Areeba was already on edge when Ammi burst into her room holding her diary — the one she never showed anyone.
“You’ve been writing about a boy?” Ammi’s voice was sharp, disappointed.
Areeba’s heart stopped.
Her world cracked in a different way now.
“Who gave you permission to read my diary?”
“Who gave you permission to feel things you’re too young to understand?”
Ammi’s words stabbed deeper than any heartbreak.
“It was just writing…”
“Don’t insult me,” Ammi shouted. “Do you know what people will say if they find out?”
“It wasn’t even real love, Ammi. I was just trying to let go!”
“Oh, so you loved him?”
The room fell into silence.
At the door, Zidan stood frozen. He had heard everything. So had Mahira.
And just like that… a private wound became a public crime.
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That Night
No one sat with Areeba at dinner.
Dadi looked at her with silent pity.
Abbu stayed quiet.
Zidan kept glancing at her, confused, hurt, like he didn’t know who she was anymore.
Ayla was the only one who sat beside her.
“She had no right to read your words,” she whispered.
“They were mine,” Areeba said.
“Yes,” Ayla replied, holding her hand, “and now they’re your scars.”
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📓 Diary Entry — Midnight
> “You break a little when a boy doesn’t choose you.
But you break completely when your own home looks at you like you’re shame.”
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🕊️ To be continued…
- Writer
