ABDALLAH
I don’t know how long I sat there. Or how long I kept repeating it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real. I don’t even know if I’m dead or alive. Or what day is today. I don’t know how I’m here right now. On this couch, staring at Sophia.
What I do know is that I’m clasping the diary in my hand with all that I have in me. I can feel the weight of her words, crying out to me. To the world.
Save me, they seem to say. Save me because no one ever bothered to look out for me. To protect me.
I shake my head, wanting out of these thoughts. Of the possibility that it might be real after all.
It isn’t, I tell myself. It’s not real.
I continue looking at Sophia. I watch her in the dim light of the night lamp and in the faint light of dawn. I watch her till the Sun filters mercile
