Walking with the Beast

Dawn

#POV AISHA

There was a comfortable silence in the car as he drove me to where I used to live. We had an agreement of sorts, which kept us away from each other. I didn’t know what to think of it. It was probably because I never wanted to confront him about the last day we spent together, telling each other what that horrible man had done to us. I hadn’t talked about it to anyone ever. I didn’t know if Haqim’s parents knew, but in my life, this chapter was closed.

I followed his actions as he parked his car in the basement. He didn’t spare me a glance, probably embarrassed about his harsh behaviour or his hatred towards me was so much that he couldn’t bear to look at me. I got out of his SUV and proceeded to get my suitcase. Once I had my possessions, I walked towards the elevator, I heard him quietly follow. “My mother…” he started, but I cut him off, “I will meet your parents tomorrow, I’m tired, I know the code to my apartment, I’ll see myself in,” The elevator reached the thirteenth floor, where our condos were. Without saying goodbye, I stepped out of the strained hoist and walked away. His place was at the far end of the hall which was a relief, considering I wouldn’t have to cross his path that often.

As I entered the house, I realized that it had been cleaned, “s**t,” I uttered, as I reached for my phone in the pocket. I quickly dialed my mother’s number and gave her a call, two seconds in, and she picked it up. “Aisha, are you okay?” she popped the question right away.

“Yes mom, calm down. I just arrived at the house, do you want to see? Should I video call you?”

“No,” She said curtly, “Any problems during the journey?” she asked.

“No,” I said, honestly, “It was comfortable. And you also got the house cleaned.”

“Yes, I don’t trust you to get it done by yourself,”

“Ma,” I whined, “I am an adult now, treat me like one,”

“Then act like one,” she retorted, “Did you meet Haqim’s parents? They even stocked food in the kitchen for you,”

“I am going to take a quick shower now, then I’ll sleep, tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I meet them,”

“Alright, order some food before you shower, don’t go to sleep on an empty belly. You’ve had a long flight,”

“Mom, stop worrying about me, I will take good care of myself,” she sighed.

“Now go get cleaned up, it’s late and remember, you can come back whenever you want,”

“I know,” I hung up.

I decided to take my parents’ former bedroom, it was the biggest room in the house, afterall. When I was done with my supper, I got into the bed, covering myself with a blanket. I was too tired to think of Haqim’s bleak behaviour or my mother’s worry, in no time at all, I went into a dreamless sleep.

I decided to wear a humble outfit, a pair of flannels with a loose pair of jeans. With the little stock in the kitchen, I jugged down a big cup of coffee and made my way out of the house. The building was changed a little bit, a creamy wallpaper was on the walls and I could see another elevator right next to the one there already, maybe I had been too tired to notice it last night.

I slogged over to Haqim’s house and rang the doorbell. Within ten seconds, a woman probably an inch or so shorter than me opened the door, she wore a white blouse and a shrug was propped over her shoulders and a black pair of pants fitted her waist.

“My little Aisha has grown so much,” she said, a toothy grin on her face, “I had to grow Aunty,” I said.

“Come here, give me a big hug, I have missed you so much,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around me.

“Don’t keep the poor girl standing on the door,” a voice called from behind, “come in Aisha,” he said, briefly embracing me.

“Hello, my coolest Uncle,” I bellowed, entwining our arms together. “Oh my god, you are still as energetic as you always were,”

“Did you expect me to forget you Uncle?”

“If you did, I’d be mad at you,” he said. “Have you had breakfast?” Haqim’s mother asked.

“Just coffee.” I said and followed her to the kitchen. Uncle Abir followed us.

“Your friend,” Uncle said to me, “is not here at the moment, before you go on asking about him. I remember when you were little, you’d be so mad when Haqim went somewhere without you.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “I was quite needy back then.”

“Nonsense,” Aunty Lafiza said, “remember when she went to visit her grandmother’s place in Florida when they were about six? That one week was the hardest week of my entire life, he made our life so miserable”

“They were both joined to the hip,” he laughed. I pulled out a chair and sat adjacent to the older woman, she smiled at me and Uncle Abir brought a tray of food from the kitchen.

“Ah, have this,” Auntie said, serving me a bowl of rice, “I especially had Abir make this for you, you liked rice with his chicken curry so much,” I smiled at her as she poured the curry in my bowl and cautiously took a bite, I closed my eyes, as the rice flakes melted in my mouth,

“This is exactly as I remember,” I said with my mouth full. She laughed, patting my hair, “I told you Abir,” she turned to her husband, “She is still our little girl.”

They fed me until I threatened to vomit on their floor. I didn’t expect them to welcome me with open arms, but it was like I had never left. The only person who had changed was Haqim, treating me as if I was some sort of a parasite. I crossed my legs, leaning my back against the ombre couch, multiple bulbs presided over the ceiling. There was a large TV set directly in front of me and a wooden coffee table which covered half the space of the carpet beneath. I took a sip from the soda can as a question was directed at me, “So, why don’t you live with us?”

“Ah,” I smiled, “I couldn’t trouble you, besides, once my college starts, I am gonna have to find a new place anyway.” she looked up at me, scratching her eyebrows, “You’re going to college in New York?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Cornell University actually,”

“Your mother didn’t mention that, but we need to celebrate this first.”

“No Aunty,” I flustered, “no need to celebrate, it’s Marchas of right now and I start College in September…”

“Nonsense,” she chuckled, “I will call Haqim right away, tell me what do you want to do?”

We chatted for about half an hour about everything but my father. I didn’t know if I should bring up the subject or not, so I refrained, carefully choosing my words. By the looks of it, they too looked like they had discussed it thoroughly, not to mention my father. Did Uncle Abir visit my father? They used to be best friends, it was only natural. How could I expect him to visit a murderer when my own mother had abandoned him?

Around noon, an eight year old boy waltzed into the living room, he wore a bright red t-shirt with loose blue jeans, he looked exactly like Haqim did that age, his eyes, the same wide brown and his hair, black, with a touch of golden at the edges. He looked at me, biting his lip, he nervously looked at me and then towards his mother who was sitting right across from me. “Are you Aisha?” he asked, eyeing me.

“Yes,” I answered, “and you must be Shahid,” I guessed.

“Mhm,” he mumbled.

“You were an infant the last time I saw you,”

“I know,” he said, pointing at me, “you used to live right next door, right?”

“Yes, do you want to see? I got some gifts for you,” I winked. Uncertain, he looked at his mother who nodded, telling him that it was okay for him to go along with me. “Alright then, go wash your hands,” his mother said, “and have some lunch, then off you go with Aisha.”

He trailed behind me as I led him to my house. He stood back, as I opened the door for him, he walked in looking around. “My suitcase is over there,” I pointed towards the empty space beside the patio, “don’t tell your mom how messy my place is, okay?” he laughed. We walked over to where my things were and I started digging into it for his gadgets, “There you go,” I said, handing him the bag I had prepared for him.

. “Wow,” he uttered, “mom will never let me have them,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry about that, your mom loves me, she can never say no to me,”

“You got me a skateboard,” he beamed, “this is so cool.”