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The mystery of life isn't a problem to solve,

But a reality to experience

{Frank Herbert}

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A week has passed after what happened in the living room. O still don't know what I signed up for, but I was t complaining. I'm pretty sure me signing that file meant that the demon would now leave me alone. And Alhamdulillah he did.

I just oatyed of don't jinx my happiness, because something bad always happens when in happy. With Allah in my heart, I'm sure nothing would happen now.

It had been a full week here at the hospital. Last week, I felt extremely home sick, but some of the kids here alongside their personality reminded me of Nadir. Always cheeky and happy. Even in such an atmosphere like the hospital the kids found a way to look on the bright side. Something which I'm trying to do as of this last week.

There was only a month left to care for the kids, and then the next task would be given to us at the start of December. In sha Allah.

Walking into the staff room, I saw Marissa eating cold pasta. I don't know how she does it, but cold pasta just doesn't do it for me the way warn cheesy pasta does. I think she could see the slight distaste on my face, because the next second she cheekily smiled at me.

"Oh hi there Laila. Do you want some pasta?" She placed it in front of my face. I cringed jutting my head backwards. She grinned, pushing it more towards my face.

"No. I'm good thank you" I exclaimed, pushing the pasta back with my hand. She chuckled before shrugging and continued eating.

"So, you know how Antoinette was talking to Mister handsome a few weeks ago?" Marissa suddenly asked, whilst I took a bite of the wrap. At first I wondered who she was talking about, but then I realized it must've been the demon. Not trying to show my disgust nor fear, I nodded nonchalantly.

"Well. He came to the hospital this morning. Him and some other man. They were at the reception, talking to Antoinette whilst I was checking the kids charts. You know me" she giggled despite saying anything funny. I looked at her, as if to say what.

"Im a nosy chica, so I quietly hid behind one of the pillars, close to where they were standing and safe to say, nothing important was said" she said, rolling her eyes. I nodded at her, still trying to swallow my first bite, but with the mention of the demon, the food was stuck in my mouth. It's almost as if the food was going to ask for the demons permission to be swallowed. I thought comically.

"What a sad thing" I returned, finally swallowing the food. Marissa nodded, turning back to her cold pasta.

What could the demon be doing here? And that too in the morning. Now that I knew about his dangerous background, and how he comes to the hospital in the mornings, I must avoid the reception during that time. I don't want to have another encounter with him again, especially when I was trying to forget what ever happened in the past month.

Waving at Marissa, I made my way to the childrens ward. They had finished their lunch and we're now playing with their toys which they were given by the hospital. I went over their charts and asked them if they felt pain anywhere, so I could accordingly give them some pain relieving syrup. There was one child, around eleven who was feeling pain, so I gave them some Ibuprofen syrup. Obviously I'd asked the professional doctors to give me the right amount of dose, as I was not yet a qualified doctor myself.

Night time cane around soooner than I expected, and next thing I know, me and Marissa were holding onto each other for dear life. The wind was really strong, and I felt like another wild named storm was on its way. Despite Marissas' persistence over dropping me home, I kindly refused. She'd humphed for the hundredth time since I'd always give her the same answer.

"One day Miss. That day isn't too far when you allow a samaritan to give you a ride back home" she said, crossing her arms together in an attempt to look intimidating. But I'm sure she was instead trying to warm her hands since her coat had no pockets. Well they did, but according to her they were too small for her "large hands".

Of course she didn't have large hands. Anyways. Getting back to the topic at hand, I gave her a long hug before waving at her.

"Whatever Laila. Don't get blown away by the wind, retaco" she grinned, winking at me. I didn't understand what the last word meant but I nodded at her before attempting my walk to the bus stop. I'd be lucky if I arrived on time. This storm wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I'm thankful however, the bus wasn't that packed with people, subconsciously lowering my anxiety. Lameesa had a day off today, and as much as she said she'd come to pick me up, I informed her that nothing would happen to me and that I would be fine. Although, that isn't the case if the demon came to the hospital today. Again.

Once getting on the bus, I took the seat which I always took, in the far back, right next to the windows. There I had my privacy. When I'd positioned myself to sit down, there was a newspaper placed on my seat. Peculiar.

Looks like something would keep me busy other than my phone. I did have a slight headache right now and I'm sure if I went on the phone, it would only increase. So I made myself comfortable in the seat, before opening the magazine and reading about the gossip, news and anything else. Before I did this though, I made sure the newspaper was clean. Public transport had it's pros and cons.

The very first page instantly grabbed my attention. The title even more so. Written in big red letters, it read, "la mafia está a tu lado y ni siquiera lo sabrías". The mafia was the only spanish I understood. I googled the rest and safe to say it wasn't something I wanted to know more of. Curiosity got the best of me, yet again, so I checked the page number of where this article was situated and went there.

Although I wouldn't understand any of it, I'm sure google translate would be more than enough. But what struck me on that page wasn't news about the mafia, but more rather a white piece of paper folded neatly into that page. Did someone forget their work or something in here.

I turned the page around confirming my suspicions, and they were true. My name was written there on that piece of paper. At first I thought this is stupid, there no way this paper is for me. It could be for any Laila in Spain, taking this very bus. But then my second name neatly written down instantly gave me chills. Was the demon at this again? Why can't he fell me himself instead if sending pointless notes.

Actually on second thought, I wouldn't want to ever meet him. In sha allah never. Without further ado I unfolded the paper.

I see you're getting comfortable here in Madrid. Don't ever forget whom you owe your praises to. I'll be watching you putta. Adios.

I instantly looked around the bus, making sure no one was certainly spying on me or even looking at me for that matter. I doubt an old women, whose with a five year old looking grandchild would be spying me. On is she.

Or maybe it was that one teenager who is wearing headphones and nodding her head to the tubes. Maybe she was with the mafia.

Is this how the mafia works? The newspaper was right about one thing. We truly do not have the sightest clue who the mafia is among us, and we most likely will never know.

Only God can protect me now.

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