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S H A H R O Z

Today was the day he was going to get discharged from this suffocating hospital room, and to say he was delighted was an understatement of the century. He had been waiting for this for the past two days.

He kept thinking about the girl who showed up that night - the one who saved him. When he saw her for the first time, he had to admit, she was really pretty. He had never seen a girl as pretty as her in his entire life.

When the doctor had told him another person saved his life by doing CPR, he hadn't expected it to be a female. He couldn't imagine a girl as innocent as her roaming around those streets at a Friday night.

Shahroz couldn't help but be thankful to her for being the person through which he got a second chance to live, but this other side of him thought: 'what if I had died? '

He wouldn't have to deal with his lunatic of a brother. He wouldn't have to deal with the crap he got at university. He wouldn't have to deal with his parents ignoring him and only pointing out what's negative about him.

Zoning back in, he remembered that the doctor had also said he had alcohol in his blood system, and that didn't come out as a surprise to him because his apple juice tasted like anything but apple juice.

He connected the dots immediately and came to the conclusion that his asshat of a brother spiked his drink. It wasn't surprising because him and the bartender gave him the weirdest looks as he was passing around the place.

He sometimes thought about the fact that only Marina had visited him throughout this whole time. Not his parents. Not his brother - though he would be surprised if that happens. Not his mates from university. The thought saddened his mood.

He had always tried to find happiness in the littlest things in life, but that never lasted long as something had to intrude and dampen his good mood. He was tired of living now. Tired of breathing for no particular reason.

He remembered when he was a little boy, he was out in the garden in his beige shorts and favourite baby blue shirt staring at a butterfly eating something as he crouched down to get a better look.

He was extending his index finger slowly in an attempt to get the beautiful little thing to crawl on his finger - at the same time not to scare it away. He wanted to show his mommy the butterfly as she was the only one home at the moment, but before anything could happen, he felt a usual stinging in his right cheek.

It was a slap.

A really really hard one.

He looked to his right to find his mother fuming with anger, her face hot and ready to burst anytime. He shivered, knowing too well it was summer and the only reason he was shivering was for what's to come from his mother now.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?! " She shouted, not even caring about the fact the whole neighbourhood could've heard her.

Shahroz shook his head and his mother's voice was louder this time, "Your pants have mud on them! "

He looked down and realised it was true. Tears were making their way towards his eyes, the butterfly long forgotten.

His mother dragged him in and forced him to change his pants. He wondered why his mother was so mad at something so small. It wasn't like she had to wash the shorts separately. She just had to chuck it in the washing machine.

She mumbled some incoherent curses as she left his room once he had changed, his legs leading him to the full length mirror in his room.

He brought his face closer to examine it slowly and found a red hand imprinted on his right cheek. He had vowed to himself before not to cry over his family, but it was so hard not to do that when he knew nobody would be there for him. Ever.

As the first drop of salty water trickled out of his eye, he couldn't help but remember all those Islamic classes he had at school where they mentioned that Allah is always watching and protecting His servants.

'Why Allah? Why? ', he thought as he sobbed softly, his seven-year-old heart aching, 'What did I do to deserve this? ' His tears were unstoppable now, his eyes turning redder and redder as more and more tears came.

At one point he was too tired - too tired to cry. His brief hiccups subsided and he wiped his face for the millionth time that day.

The sun was setting, making the sky burst with shades of orange and pink. He used to be fascinated with the sunset but at the moment he couldn't care less.

Shahroz got up and closed the curtains, the view of the beautiful sunset vanishing as he made his way to his bed and tucked himself under his covers.

That day, he grew hatred towards his mother. He grew hatred towards the sunset. He grew hatred towards butterflies. He grew hatred towards himself.

From that day onwards, he wished for nothing upon him but death.

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He took the first step in his dorm room - him and his brother's dorm room to be exact. He looked around, the place was still as messy as it usually has always been.

Both of their books were sprawled open on the floor, almost on the verge of tearing apart. Coke cans were rolling around on their study tables, though Shaheer barely studied. The lamp was on and their previous examination papers were overflowing from the drawers.

But what caught his eye was rather something else.

A red lacy thong and bra were hanging off the bed from the other side, causing all the hospital food he had to almost come back up. He was disgusted to say the least.

His brother was out probably banging another woman of the night. The thought made him shudder.

He walked towards the king-sized bed and dropped all the items on the floor, planning to clean it up later. He held the two pieces of lingerie with the tips of his nails, afraid to get some sort of STD, and threw them in the bin.

He closed the lights and lied down on the bed and had wished for one thing before he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

The same wish he had sixteen years ago.

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Hey there peeps! I hope you like the story so far. I just wanted to give y'all a Shahroz chapter cos it's been sooo long! Hopefully there'll be more of Shahroz coming soon. Till then take care and don't forget to pray your daily prayers!

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