27th February, 2019

Second chances form the best stories ever.

She remembered staring at the ocean before her. The stale shades of black and white rotted her heart while the crisp of the cold wind caused her soul to fade along with it. There was this pain, she didn't know it could exist in such a fragile body like hers, there was this rage, she didn't know it could burn inside such a moist body like hers, there was this loss, she didn't know she was saving it up inside such an empty soul like hers. 

There are times when you would find yourself in agony, in complete emptiness where suddenly you become a total stranger to your own self. Do people really change? They do not. It's never about a hit point or a turning point and how the srory begins after a cause. People never change, it never was about changes. There's bad and good in everybody. Selfishness, pride, ego, jealousy, hatred it's all in them, their darkness. Some channel them out of ignorance and some choose not to as they get in control. All people . . . they will always commit mistakes, they keep swinging back and forth in different changes. That is how it flows. That's how it is.

Like how everybody keeps saying for the reckless troublemaker, He or she has a good heart, they never think the similar for the bright soul or the do-gooder of all times. That same do-gooder you think of as such an angel, could possess a dark heart, who could blind you with their goodness that would leave you no room to even think about darkness. But that's the problem isn't it? When you do good, people expect good? That you are to live up to people's expectations when you don't have to? That the world has created such a mental illness that we are supposed look at each other how everyone does? That we could never expect good from the bad and the bad from the good? But that's where we faulter every time. We do not realize that no soul was born evil, they were all pure until with time the world had changed them. So why can't the same world, the only world which caused the damage expect any good from them? What happened to second chances? Why isn't anyone writing a book about it?

Maybe Taraa wasn't Abed. No one expected anything bad from her. All they expected was good.

"Why exactly are you hiding this from Ameen?"

Taraa looked away, her blood steadily boiling underneath her skin.

"You knew I would find your weak point, in fact you wanted me to find exactly that, why?" Abed kept pushing, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"This is crazy!" She finally whispered.

"What is?" Abed clenched his jaw, half impressed by his sister and half annoyed that she wasn't being specific.

"You care?" Taraa spat.

"No, you played me. And even your husband or all of us. I don't care if this doesn't sound right coming out from me, but you should be ashamed of yourself." Abed carefully muttered, his deep voice calculating her.

"You are clever. Very clever. I always underestimated you, and I was mistaken. Who intends to change the blood matches, who sets one's own self as infertile. And oh, no you didn't  . . . you actually bribed the phlebotomist?" It was more of a statement.

"I'm glad you are surprised. So, is this what you wanted to confront me? Of course, bailing you out would be impossible for me. You know that alright." She paused to chuckle. "So, got what you wanted?"

"You are a very good actress, a good liar." Abed shook his head. "I don't like it when people double cross me, especially the people I happen to share the same blood with." His cold voice bored her.

"Yes, I can see that you are talking with experience." She muttered.

"It must have caused you so much trouble. "

She stayed silent, her eyes stared ahead at Ameen's car. It was almost four in the morning, dawn was about to break in.

"Yeah, what do you care?" She snapped, her eyes burning into his.

Abed chuckled, his dark demeanour getting her teeth on edge and she immediately regretted meeting him.

She shouldn't have cared.

"I see what you are capable of . . . but Taraa, you are not your mother or your father. I know you are stuck with this doctor because Adel convinced you to. Let's both agree that it was against your will. But what you did with your medical reports . . . it was just a head start. You will be motivated to do more and when you do it wou-"

"You are right, I'm not my mother or my father. Nothing like them and do you know what else? I'm not you either!"

He chuckled again, "Overconfidence? I thought you were better than that. But hey, thoughts could be deceptive." He reproved. "But you do not know that you might end up like your family!"

This made her gulp, but she stayed put.

"Oh Abed, are you concerned about me now? But you know nothing about me!" She shook her head, she needed to go home and out his sight.

Abed was terrifying her.

"I don't have to. Because to all what I know is you are human . .  just like me. And that's enough. Don't ever pull somethung like that because if you do, I will find out and you will lose more than just your husband."

Taraa mocked a laugh, "A warning or a threat?"

"It doesn't matter what it is a-" Taraa cut him off,

"I don't care abou-" But then it was his turn too.

"Do you know what's it like to take a life? Probably not . . because when you are human, something like that never crosses your mind until something little lead you to. You may be walking all safe and sound the next day but it kills you. It will stay with you for the rest of your life, it's something you will never be able to move on from, your own soul will never allow you to forget it because taking a life isn't your job, punishing them this way is not the way . . . see it's not about the action, not about right or wrong or even why it was  done . . . it's about who does it, then the rest of it. Don't do it, because if you do . . . you will lose a part of yourself. . . not everything yes, but only the part that matters the most."

Taraa was not surprised but she simply related to what he said.

She didn't reply, she didn't want to think or recalculate in her mind if her brother was talking from experience. She didn't want to hurt. All over again.

"Why did you do it?" Came out Abed's curious question.

"I don't want to have children! I thought it was obvious! And if you knew what I did, why did you need to confront me?" She shrugged, making sure nothing inside her was on the edge to break or crack.

"Oh! Yes if anything, I'd never understand what's it like to be a girl." Abed's careful words made her laugh.

"Are you mocking me?"

"No Taraa, I'm not."

"Good, because who'd ever want to have kids in a world like today?"

But what she didn't know about was tomorrow. She only talked about today.

Before she got out of his car, she reminded. "You didn't answer my other question."

"Yes, I needed to hear it from you." Abed looked away.

"Why?"

"Because I only know the truth when I hear it."

"I always envied you. I thought being a boy you got to have the freedom of choices. I was wrong. You had this whole load of responsibilities on the roof of your head wether you realised it or not. But I'm still your responsibility. If father were to decease, you'd be the one to look after me in the eyes of the law. Of course in our case the whole pattern of mundanity is bleak. But right now, given to my current status, I don't have any prior responsibility upon anyone. If I was dead, Ameen, you and father could take care of themselves, none of you would be helpless. If I had children, I will be blamed by them for leaving them stranded till the rest of their lives.

As wrong as this whole thing sounds, for me it's easier to not have anything and anyone to care about. When you are detached, even if it's for a while, you get all the freedom in the world." She stared ahead, expressionless.

"Your motive is to escape from the reality, sounds like a plan." Abed pressed his lips. "You shut people out, everyone out. You even shut me out. Not that I care but say when all this is over, after everything settles, will you change . . this thing that's holding you back?"

"Some of us don't have an 'after', not in this world. We don't get to do fairytales. Moving on, it becomes the hardest thing to do. We don't get to have the domesticated life that we crave for where we would fall into the hands of mundanity, where we would only have to worry about the wars with each other's souls."

Because here we are in the actual war.

Abed remained silent.

"You think I can ever pull a trigger at someone?" Taraa slowly asked, already anticipated his incoming answer.

"You can. Not sure if you would ever may. But if you do, you will have your reasons." Abed noticed something really off about her. But he chose not to push her. Not right then. "It's okay to grieve, our mother had her mistakes but she was a good human being. And the fact that we still remember her, maybe after all she didn't really die."

° ° °

"I need to go home. I'm too tired anyways." She mumbled, Ameen had to be lucky enough to have heard her.

"Yes, after the reports come back . . we will!"

"The check up went well, the reports must be too. We are just wasting our time for nothing." She got up, ready to storm out but then froze when she realised the logic behind her words.

Wasting time for nothing?

Isn't that why people waste time? Why do people waste time? For nothing right? Waste is technically nothing . . . but even wastes get recycled so how did s-

"Taraa, are you ok?" Ameen broke her out of the intense analysis inside her head.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She shrugged.

"Is something wrong?" Is it what happened with your brother? Is he in trouble again?"

"No to your questions." She said.

I'm the one in trouble.

Ameen let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head he gently put his hands on her shoulders. "If anything or anyone is bothering you, I need to know."

Taraa wanted to laugh at his face. Oh honey, this world isn't like the hospital. You treat the patients and they heal the next day with progress. The real world consists of murderers and people like my family. So tell me doc, can you heal a murderer or let alone stitch them up?

"Taraa, sweetheart, what's wrong? Tell me, talk to me!" He shook her shoulders a little but there weren't any responses. She just kept looking into his eyes.

Does fire ever melt when it watches the ice breaking right in front of it?

She looked away.

After a while Ameen lead her to a room she had no idea about. But as she entered, recognizing the machines and the realization she whipped her head around to her husband and asked, "Why are we here?"

"I just want to run some tests." That's all he said.

"Polygraph testing?" She furrowed her brows, not being able to understand her husband's intentions.

"Relax, I'm just worried and I need to see some certain stuff." Ameen assured whilst setting up and starting the system.

"You think I'm a liar, or some mental freak?" Taraa asked, her voice did hint of hurt and sadness.

"No, I think of no such things. I just want to make sure of some other things . . . Besides, polygraphs don't detect lies, just physiological responses."

She started feeling agitated yet made sure Ameen hadn't noticed. Suddenly she felt she had been caught red handed and her brother left her hanging in dry. With all those multitude of thoughts and feelings, she wanted to faint.

She wanted to give up.

"Ameen?" She had the very urge to curse when the polygraph machine began calculating her.

Great, her heart is displayed right in front of him.

He shifted his eyes from the system to look at her with concern. "Taraa, are you okay?"

There was no point in lying, "No! Ameen . . um, there's something you should know." She whispered.

By then Ameen was by her side, holding her hands. "Taraa, let it go. It's okay . . I'm gonna turn this off right a-" But her words shocked him.

"When I was eight, my mom took me to the doctor only to have him discovered that I was diagnosed with Axis II Personality Disorder. I didn't know what that exactly meant but I knew that I was different from the other kids. I can't react physically to most situations, I understand them yet cannot fully make the centre mass in that moment. Growing up, I hated myself so I opted for medications. They helped for a while but I got tired of them and eventually stopped. I guess some of its effects still lasted."

He was out of words. "Why didn't I come across that?"

"Because I hid that file."

"It still doesn't change anything . . ." Ameen finally said, it was a bit too much for him to take in.

"Yeah, can we go home now?" She requested.

° ° °

"How could you have agreed?!"

Taraa ignored Aunt Esta whilst scanning the pile of books in Adel's library. One of the hardest decision for her was to choose a good book to read. She didn't just read any book, she read the kind of books she knew she wouldn't waste her time on them.

The problem was with the authors. It's sick how most writers of today make you feel like you are a monster. There must always be something or someone to blame on in the story or some past or death they have endured. They paint words with much empty promises and hopes that they make it sound like it's easy to overcome the readers' problems with just some bunch of the writer's words. And that you are supposed to find yourself in between the words, where in the end you realise the writer's perspective was from a different world than yours.

This world was very much weird anyways.

Maybe, the reality could've been less scarier, uglier or darker if people were truly honest. Maybe then, people wouldn't have had the option to read for their so-called escape.

The world was full of amateurs.

"What's your point?" Taraa asked annoyed.

"That, stay away from Abed!" Aunt Esta exclaimed.

"Just exactly why?" Taraa muttered and pulled out a poetry book.

"I just don't trust him."

"Because you think of him as a monster." Taraa completed her Aunt's answer.

Esta shook her head. "It's not that, he's just . . ."

"That's the problem. You grown ups can't seem to see through that even murderers are humans. You are ready to put the blame on them because you deny the fact that something went wrong with those criminals and that something was you. You people have a huge problem with acceptance."

She backfired ever so calmly that left her Aunt in shock.

"Abed is not a murderer." Aunt Esta spoke in defence.

"Too bad, because he just confessed it to me that he is. In fact, he even told me not ever take a life because I'd die alongside the soul I'd take." Taraa shrugged, her bored eyes haunted Esta.

Esta ignored what she said, she thought her niece went crazy. She noticed that Taraa was packing the books. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes, out of town."

Aunt Esta furrowed her brows, "Ameen told me he's on full schedule!"

"Who said I'm going with him?!" Taraa mumbled walking out to her room.

"Why?"

"I want to visit a friend." Taraa said. "Don't worry, I have travelled alone before." She then reassured.

"Can I at least know where it is that you are going?" Aunt Esta inquired

"No." Came her blunt reply. "You are clever, you'll figure it out somehow."

° ° °

The bus stop was lonely. The cold made it even lonelier. This travel wasn't ideal, but was anything ever ideal? She thought back to Abed's words which made her realise something.

They say, 'be good for no reason'.

But, be good for all the reasons.

Without the mind the heart cannot feel, there would be no feelings without thoughts. It's all connected. The Good and the Bad. It's human nature. There's always a cause, always a second hand behind all things. Nothing happens without any reason.

"I guess I deserved a goodbye, at least." The known voice snapped her back to reality.

"I don't really do goodbyes . . never been great at it." She pressed her lips and looked at him.

"Aunt Esta told me that you are going to see a friend in what .  . New York?"

"Damn it, Aunt Esta." She muttered.

"This is the most direct route to New York." Ameen then explained. "But why the bus?"

"I travel light and never been a fan of airports!" She shrugged.

"Yeah, you are not a fan of most things." He gave out a low chuckle, closing the distance between where she was seated but he chose to stand. He then leaned on the pole, his eyes fixated at her while hers stared into the dark space.

"Guess I'm not." She muttered.

"You know I cannot let you travel alone. It's not safe and especially when it's New York." Ameen sighed.

"You don't have a choice. Besides, I have relatives there plus the keys to Abed's condominium, right away from Wall Street." Taraa said, not so assuredly.

"You mean you stole the keys from him!" Ameen sighed.

"No, he had an extra pair. I simply took them." She shrugged.

After a brief silence, he began, "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know why things are so dead between us . . if this is the reason you are off to New York or anything I have said earlier or our last conversation with the polygr-"

Her loud laugh cut him off.

Ameen frowned as she continued to laugh.

"You know what the funny part is? Me." She shook her head, her expressions dulled down to the lowest. "It's not you or anything you have said. It's me because I simply don't get humans. I have made mistakes in life, terrible mistakes an-"

"I have made them too. We all do. You can't blame yourself for the things you didn't have any control in!" Ameen exclaimed.

"Well, of course, in my case it was out of choice. It's not a question of blame but the fact that it was done, is done. And whatever your mistakes were, I'm sure they weren't worse than mine." She then let out a sympathetic smile.

"Would you ever forgive me if I told you about my mistakes?" Ameen carefully asked, the pit of his stomach drowned in guilt.

"Yeah!" Her chilled expression was weird yet very attractive. "It's easy to forgive, Ameen. And when it comes to family, you have no choice but to forgive."

Why was he not surprised by her reply?!! "I can't believe it'd be that easy for you. But why would you?"

"You wouldn't want me to?" She raised a brow.

"Generally, people find it hard to forgive!" Ameen reasoned.

"I'm a realist, Ameen. And I believe in second chances." After a pause she slowly worded, "And it's ok if you screwed up or totally failed in life, because it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't change the fact that you are a living, breathing human. And that's all what matters. As long as your heart's beating, you are fine. You deserve a second chance."

Ameen nodded. "You are right. But you didn't ask me if I'd forgive you."

Taraa smiled, her heart hardening by the second. "I don't have to . . my mistakes don't involve you. It's me, all me."

"Taraa, let's go back. You don't have to take the bus. Not tonight."

"I need this. I need to go and you cannot stop me because I won't." Taraa sharply replied.

Ameen moved, sitting beside her, he put his hands over hers. "Please, I don't want to argue."

"Then don't." She whispered.

Ameen sighed, he let his head down.

The only barrier between them was the silence. Dead.

"Do you know what makes a person different? Their goodness. Do you know what makes them special? Their instinct to catch a bullet for someone else even when it's not necessary." She laughed, "Of all things, often a person's last moment truly defines them."

Ameen was confused, he didn't understand why she was talking about all this.

"But there are no different people. Everyone is just very normal. Nothing and no one is special." She turned to look at him, her eyes held a sense of concern.

"Do you really believe that?" Ameen asked, just going with he flow.

"When my mother died, I didn't go through the same emotions as my family did. My dad broke, I haven't seen anything or anyone break like that. My brother burried himself in depression and eventually left for the military. But me, being the pragmatist I was just detached  . . . we learned that death is inevitable. We have to believe in that, but when it strikes, of course it's all normal to get emotional but it's as if like we didn't know that it's inevitable. That we didn't see it coming. Our deaths are written, planned by God. So, I didn't just understand why it had to have a lifetime effect for my family. I was fine though I was alone, though I missed her, but it was easier to accept her death because I believed that it'd be a matter of time until I'd meet her. Again."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't kn-"

She cut him off, "I also didn't get why people were sorry about it. Especially the wrong people. Like Abed said, grieve and move on because time doesn't wait. And also, it would cut you a great deal of drama."

Ameen gulped, "You know you put me through hell, right?" With that he pulled her into a hug. "I don't even know what's going on, but it hurts to see you like this."

"I didn't ask you come here." Taraa mumbled against him.

"But I needed to." He whispered back.

"But why?"

He pulled away, looking into her eyes. "I don't know . . . "

"Your shift started an hour ago. Someone needed your saving but here you are in a stranded bus stop with a dead end to maybe New York!"

"You are here." He slowly said, his eyes never leaving hers.

Taraa frowned, "What about the world?"

"I called in sick. The world doesn't depend on me. It has its alternatives."

"You say the sweetest of things." She smiled, making him laugh. "So what if I'm here?"

"I didn't know where else to be but here."

It was obvious. He was obvious. She felt her heart was revived then.

"How long will you be gone for?" He asked.

"Not long, for sure." She said. Her eyes caught the incoming bus behind them and they knew it was time.

"Taraa, I'm not sure about this."

"Would it be too much to ask for your trust?"

Ameen threw his head back, "Yeah, that's a lot to ask for."

Taraa shook her head, a small smile playing her on lips. "Forget I ever asked." She grabbed her handbag and walked away. Walking toward the road, his words stiffened her and she halted right in the middle of the road.

"You are all the difference in this world."

But she knew people say a lot of things when it came to their feelings. She looked back at him, ignoring the bus coming at her.

Ameen shook his head, walking towards her he knew exactly what to do.

Taraa squinted her eyes, the bright lights of the bus's fog lights caused an oblivion.

The perfect blur, when he pulled her face to his making the bus to stop in front of them.

° ° °

Something about the crowds she loved was the ability to disappear. There she was, sitting early in one of Manhattan's cafe, sipping her Americano  and watching the world. What she loved was that no one had any idea about her.

The vibes of being in a crowd was her favourite. Because it made her feel lonely. Only because she wasn't a part of the crowd. In her own sense of seeing it, the world couldn't spot her in it because she wasn't standing out. But if the world were to look closely, she was the one who stood out. No one knew that because she did. And that's what mattered.

And that's what she needed. To think, reflect and drift away. Even if it were for no reasons at all. The thing about this place, that she could spend her time being lost.

Sometimes you need that!

The thing about crowds, no one notices. Everyone's too busy themselves. While in an alley, you never know if you are being watched.