⚠️ Warning. This chapter contains brief scenes of illegal drug use (not by the main character). Chapter for storytelling purposes. The author is in no way endorsing, supporting, or encouraging these acts. Chapter also includes strong language. ⚠️

✈️

September 6th. Almost Two Weeks Ago.

Amalie snorted like a pig at Kulthum's side. She felt more like a thorn, though, with her elbow digging into it every few seconds.

"Boring! You're boring! Boo!" Amalie whined loudly. Her sticky hand slapped against Kulthum's skin. "I want to go back! Boring! Take me back!"

Kulthum gritted her teeth, ignored her friend's childish moans, and tightened her grip around Amalie's side.

Amalie continued to paw her free hand at Kulthum's skin. "He was kissing me!"

"With your consent?" Kulthum asked.

A smile slurred across Amalie's face as she lolled her head to the side. "He was fit. Does it matter?"

Kulthum didn't say anything and carried on walking.

"Were you scared?"

"For you? Yes," Kulthum sniffed.

"I'm not talking about me," Amalie hissed. "Were you panicking? Could you not breathe on such a big dance floor? Were there too many people? Too many guys? Was the room too tight? Did someone touch you?" Amalie asked mockingly before she tripped over her feet. 

"This is why I pulled you out of there," Kulthum snarled as she hauled Amalie upwards before she could fall.

Kulthum wasn't boring. The air in the room hadn't been shrinking. Amalie was drunk and had been playing musical chairs on the laps of strange men.

"Boo! Hiss!" Amalie jeered as Kulthum dragged her feet along the pavement. "Why are you always such a mum!"

"Shut up!" Kulthum growled. Everyone on this side of campus had deserted the roads for their rooms. It was Tuesday. Who the hell partied on a Tuesday? Their noise would be a nuisance.

"I wanna scream and shout and let it all out!" Amalie sang as she bounced her hips against Kulthum's. "The party was so good. Why weren't you having fun?"

"Parties aren't that fun when you're the babysitter, Amalie," Kulthum snapped.

"No one asked you to be one."

"No. But you clearly needed one."

"Whatever, mum." Amalie pouted her lip against Kulthum's cheek. "I'm tired. Stop. Puh-lease."

A concoction of smells floated off Amalie's breath and under Kulthum's nose. Kulthum could smell the shots and drinks Amalie had been downing like water all night. But something else, something sharp and poisonous, was rippling under those stale notes.

Kulthum wrinkled her nose. "You're not going to be sick again, are you?"

"No. My feet hurt," Amalie whined.

Kulthum unwound her arms from around Amalie, who thumped onto the curb like a sack of potatoes.

"I don't know how someone so drunk can keep such a firm grip on their bottle," Kulthum said as she folded her arms and nodded towards the green glass bottle in Amalie's hand.

The bottle was nearly empty. A pathetic puddle of dark liquid was sloshing around the bottom lazily, but Amalie had been gripping it like an important message had been tucked inside.

Amalie swung her hand upwards and grinned. "Never turn down free drinks."

Kulthum rolled her eyes. "A rule you're living by."

Amalie wagged her finger. "Touchy, touchy. Are you jealous? You want?" She pushed the bottle up to Kulthum.

Kulthum sniffed the opening curiously. She recognised the smell from Amalie's breath, and while alcohol could be a slow killer, she didn't detect the same poison like notes she had smelt earlier. 

Kulthum pushed the bottle away from her. "No thanks."

"More for me," Amalie chirped before exaggeratedly gulping the last few sips of her drink.

"All gone," Amalie pouted before raising the bottle's opening to her eye like it was a telescope.

"Great. Let's go." Kulthum held out her hand, but Amalie smacked it away.

"I wanna smoke," Amalie announced.

Kulthum kissed her teeth and twisted her head. A few windows in the accommodation building behind them had lit up since Amalie had screamed down the street. 

Kulthum groaned. "Can't you smoke outside our accom?"

Amalie wasn't in the mood to bargain. She opened her designer bag and clumsily pulled out a small, chubby cigarette rolled in wax paper.

Kulthum narrowed her eyes. "What is that?"

Amalie smirked. Her lips caused her sleepy, beautiful features to twist into something angular and wicked. She brought out her lighter, lit the cigarette and lifted it to her lips soundlessly.

"Are you crazy?" Kulthum hissed as she stepped closer to Amalie. "This side of campus is patrolled!"

Now that the smell was curling away from Amalie's cigarette in a trail of smoke and was no longer hidden amongst others, Kulthum didn't need Amalie to tell her what it was. Kulthum had never seen it before, but she recognised and could identify it, which meant other people would, too.

"Relax," Amalie drawled. Her eyes were already losing their shape and sharpness. Their vibrant green colour was dimming behind the cloud of smoke. "Here, have some. It'll help you relax."

"No!" Kulthum nearly screamed. She used her hands to break up the clouds, but the smell clung to the air like wet clothes did against one's skin. "Amalie, drop that shit, and let's go!"

"No!" Amalie mocked before cackling. "Shut up. Have a drag. Trust me, you'll feel better."

"Really?" Kulthum scoffed. "Cause you look like shit."

Amalie sighed. "Stop lying," she smirked before she inhaled.

Amalie had the type of face that people framed. She had the kind of beauty that people quoted, chased and referenced. Amalie's beauty dulled when she was like this. When she got drunk, and as Kulthum had just discovered high. It never died; it just got diluted by whatever she was consuming.

"Babes, trust me. All your stupid anxiety stuff that's ruining our parties will poof," Amalie flexed her fingers and wiggled them, "once you puff."

Kulthum stiffened. "I told you. I was bored, you were drunk, and I've just discovered high!"

Amalie's lips slid into a sleepy smile. "What about the other times?"

"Shut up. You're wrecked," Kulthum snipped as she gingerly sat beside Amalie. "I don't know why I'm even talking to you. I should leave you behind."

Amalie's shoulders twitched upwards. "Go then. Bye."

The sun had set hours ago, surrendering the streets to an intimidating black winter sky. There weren't nearly enough yellow streetlights to fight away the dark.

The streets were also isolated because most students were tucked in their beds or behind their books at the library. Anything could happen to someone–to a woman when they were alone in the dark.

Kulthum rested her head on her hands and looked straight ahead.

"Come on, K. You know you want to," Amalie sang in a syrupy voice as she pushed the cigarette in her face. "Stop being such a mum! Just try it. You'll feel better."

Amalie's speech was slurred. Her words were running away from her, and her tongue struggled to catch them, but she continued to speak anyway.

Amalie chanted like a broken record and sang choruses of encouragement loudly as if she and Kulthum were scout girls trying to earn a badge. 

Kulthum tried to ignore her, but Amalie's taunts dripped like thick honey into Kulthum's ears until they were clogged with them, and they were all Kulthum could hear.

"I'm a Muslim, Amalie," Kulthum snapped.

Amalie snorted. "A pretty shit one."

Kulthum's heart pinched painfully at her friend's reminder. Kulthum blamed herself for her series of unfortunate events. She believed Amalie's statement was true, but hearing it come from someone else's mouth still felt like the tip of a cane landing on her back.

"Look, I actually feel closer to God when I smoke. It's like all the layers, levels, shields and shit that separate me from him disappear, you know? God." Amalie threw her head back and giggled. "It feels like I'm in heaven with Him right now."

"Authubillahi mina shaytani rajeem," Kulthum muttered, regretting the words immediately.

The irony, Kulthum thought, remembering Allah when she had deliberately pushed Him away. It was ironic and hypocritical, trying to shoo away shaytan, when she had surrounded herself with his devices.

"Come on." Amalie lifted her hand but lacked the strength to keep it up, so it flopped back to her side. "Aren't you tired?"

Kulthum's fingers itched.

Kulthum was tired. The type that couldn't be stretched out or slept away.

She hadn't slept properly in months. Her mind was full of noise that constantly woke her up. It hadn't shut up for weeks. It hadn't allowed her to sleep, eat, or get through the piles of university work she had to do.

Something foreign had infected her mind and was feeding on it, eating away at everything she knew.

Kulthum felt like a used tea bag. She was dried and shrivelled up yet was still being dunked under water over and over again.

Amalie always looked free. Despite her deadlines, labs, practicals, and shifts, her friend floated around campus and threw her body around the dance floor of parties like she was weightless.

Kulthum looked at Amalie. Her limbs were sprawled like a starfish, and she was resting her head on the curb like it was a feather stuffed pillow. Her face was relaxed, and she stretched her mouth open and released a satisfied sigh like she had just eaten a heavy meal.

She blinked at Kulthum drowsily. Amalie's eyes were lined with a fragile red colour, but they looked vacant. She wasn't worried about what could've happened to her at that party. She wasn't worried about what Kulthum thought about her. She wasn't worried about getting caught. Her eyes were empty of fears, danger, and irrational thoughts. Things that pressed and constantly hit themselves against the walls of Kulthum's mind.

"Come on," Amalie hummed.

Everyone had been given the lectures. Drugs were haram. They were wrong. Drugs alter one's mind. But Kulthum's mind already felt so unfamiliar to her that the threat of temporarily losing more control of it didn't scare her.

She already felt lost, like she was swimming in the sea with exhausted lungs and tired legs, and the water was too dark to see whether there was a bottom.

Under the influence, she wouldn't care whether there was one. She'd just stop. Everything would just stop. Even if her mind did turn mush, at least it would shut up.

"Do it, do it, do it," Amalie chanted boyishly.

Kulthum took the cigarette. She released a shaky breath and raised it to her lips.

She closed her eyes before a bright beam flashed over them, and a rough voice shouted at her.

"Oi! What are you two doing!"

"Run!" Kulthum yelled before she scrambled onto her feet.

Kulthum took off like an arrow launched in war.

Her lungs pushed painfully against her chest as she sprinted down the street. The cigarette burned in Kulthum's hand as her arms pumped her body forward like oars rowing a boat. 

Their accommodation building was less than ten minutes away. She had moved too quickly for the guard to hold his torchlight over her face. He wouldn't know where to start looking if they could just slip into their accommodation building. It housed over one hundred students. They wouldn't get caught.

Kulthum glanced back.

Amalie was closer to the guard than to Kulthum. Her movements were delayed. All her friend's energy had gone up in a cloud of smoke. Amalie was running like she was in a dream. She was panting heavily. Her arms were swinging wildly, but she wasn't moving fast enough.

Kulthum heard Amalie shriek as she tumbled onto the ground.

"Shit!" Kulthum cursed before dropping her speed.

You can't leave her behind, Kulthum said inwardly.

Kulthum pressed her eyes together, cursed again, and ran back to Amalie.

Kulthum lifted Amalie in her arms, intending to help her friend limp to the finish line, but Amalie howled and toppled to the ground in pain when she tried to stand.

"My ankle," Amalie whimpered. "I think I've twisted it."

The security guard was rolling down the street. His feet didn't have speed, and judging by his nearly purple face and desperately parted lips, he had no stamina.

"We're five minutes away. We can outrun him and hide," Kulthum panted.

Amalie shook her head. "I can't. It hurts too much to stand."

"Kulthum." Amalie grabbed her wrist and looked at her with bloodshot Bambi eyes. "Please don't leave me."

"I wasn't going to." Kulthum dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it under her trainer. She shook her shoulders like she was a boxer preparing for a fight. "There it's gone. Hidden. We're fine. You reek, but he won't have any proof of why."

"Kulthum." Amalie squeezed her face like she was in pain. "I have more," she whispered.

Kulthum's face contorted with fear.

The guard had stopped running once he had noticed the girls were no longer playing a game of tag, but he was still rolling towards them. His hi-vis jacket blinked with a warning each time he passed under a streetlight.

"How much more?" Kulthum questioned.

Amalie hesitated, painfully bit her lip and shook her head.

Kulthum's heartbeat slapped against her chest. It wanted her to move. It was pumping out litres of blood that were useless to her unless she ran.

Amalie was radiating fear. Clouds of her anxiety wafted over Kulthum like a sky preparing for a storm. Kulthum lowered her head so her dark eyes aligned with Amalie's green ones. "Amalie, I asked you a question. How. Much. More?"

"Lots more...the amount...the type...the kind that you sell more," Amalie admitted in a tiny voice.

Kulthum's heart dropped to her feet like a parachute that had failed to open. Her mind started to scream out warnings. Abort! Run! Go! She could feel her blood rushing to her limbs, urging her to leg it and abandon Amalie because it wasn't her problem.

"You're a drug dealer?" Kulthum whisper-yelled.

"No! No! No...I-only sometimes...if people ask," Amalie grimaced.

Kulthum forced her mind to focus, ground her heels against the pavement and made herself to stay.

"Give me your bag," Kulthum demanded.

"What?"

"Give it to me," Kulthum hissed.

Amalie handed Kulthum her designer bag.

"You're drunk. I'm sober. We'll be fine," Kulthum explained.

Amalie shook her head. "How do you know he–"

"He won't search us," Kulthum interrupted. "Or me, at least. I'm sober."

Amalie rubbed her eyes. "You're such a good friend," she sniffed.

The security guard thought so, too.

In the same outfits, in the same place, Kulthum and Amalie were like fish in a net. It didn't matter if they had different coloured scales, were different sizes, behaved differently, or weren't of the same breeds. In the eye of the fisherman, they were just fish.

Amalie couldn't stand up straight, not without support. The guard thought Kulthum was just better at pretending.

He snatched and searched Amalie's bag. The one that Kulthum had claimed was hers and had worn across her chest.

Well, well, well. Now you all know the unfortunate events that led to Kulthum's not-yet expulsion...👀. I used to love those books. The author had a cool pen name, too! Anyway, what do you all think about Kulthum's behaviour? 🤔. And the chapter. He he he. I like to say my books contain more than romance (which is coming! I promise!), haha; I hope I'm right. 😅. I would love to hear your thoughts!🤍. & I appreciate all the votes! 🤍.

Authubillahi mina shaytani rajeem: It means I seek refuge in Allah (God) from the whisperings of shaytan (the devil).

Shaytan: The devil

Muslim: An individual who practices the religion Islam and believes there is only One God.

Allah: The One God.

Haram: Something that isn't allowed in Islam.