Blogger’s challenge #14 – A short sad story
“UFF, I wonder who are the ones who’ll marry the both of
you.” That’s what mum always said when Hamad and I played Call of Duty. He used
to yell all the time, “MAYOOD! You’re playing like grandma, zombies will have
our brains for dinner because of you.” And I kept on reminding him that it’s
just a video game. He was the loud one, the criminal that dragged me with him to
everywhere. We’ve never cared about what our uncles and aunts said because they
don’t understand us, they just keep on restating “Hamad and Mayed need to grow
up, their childish behavior will destroy their lives.” Hamad was older than me
that’s why they criticized him more.. Childish, moronic and reckless; that’s
what they always said about him but I saw loving, artful and intelligent, I saw
what their sightless souls failed to see in him. He was nice and gentle; kids
loved him and loathed me because I hated them. “Mayed join us.” He’d say.
“Ew no Hamad, they cry easily.” I left him with them.
He was a writer too! But he hid that fact because he thought
that it’s ‘girly.’ Once I was so envious, I wanted to write so bad so I
paraphrased one of Hannah Montana’s songs. He read it and analyzed it with me
but at the end he said, “You could have chosen one of Jonas Borthers songs,
they can sing better.” He teased me. We laughed about it for almost a month, I
still laugh about it but sadly he’s not here to harass me.
…..
Saturday, 22nd
of May 2010, at 7am.
That’s the last time I heard his voice. “Mayed listen, I
have to go to Fuj because my stupid professor needs his assignment by Sunday
morning, I’ll be back on Monday enshAllah. Don’t miss me okay? Okay? Okay?”
“I won’t miss you okay? Okay? Okay?” I laughed at his
enthusiasm not knowing that I’ll actually miss him.
I texted him at 3pm but he didn’t reply to my text, I
thought that he was driving. At 6pm my sister’s phone rang, her face turned red
then she covered her eyes, “Mama are you sure? Please tell me that you misheard
them!” she said.
At that moment I knew something was wrong but I didn’t want
start assuming things, I waited for her explanation. She placed her hands on
her lap; her eyes were red and teary. Her husband was horrified by her looks,
he asked her about what’s going on. She started sobbing, she tried to catch her
breath and said “Mama said that Hamad passed away..”
I didn’t cry because I thought they misunderstood the entire
thing. “How can he die? I saw him few hours ago!” I barked at them.
My brother’s in law phone rang. My uncle was on the phone,
“Khalid, I saw a horrible accident on the route to Fuj. I hope that the driver
is okay. I bet that the stupid truck driver didn’t see that black car! God’s
will man.”
“Bu Ali, does this car look like Hamad’s.” Khaild asked.
My uncle remained silent for few moments then he said, “Ya
Allah, please no.” Then he hanged up
After struggling for almost thirty minutes, my uncle ‘Bu
Hamad’ confirmed his son’s death.
…..
Sunday, 23rd of
May 2010, 9am.
I saw Hamad for the last time. This time he looked handsome,
covered in a white sheet that suited him and I wondered if it’ll look that good
on me when it’s my turn.
Everyone that was related to us walked in to cry and shout
but I had the yearning to shout at them! Why are you crying? Why are you
shouting? You always said that he’s careless and useless and guess what? He
won’t be here anymore to bother you. My best friend won’t be there to bother me
anymore.
After burying him, all of them came home. I saw his father
on the corner sitting alone. I went to console him, he smiled and patted my back,
“Hamad loved you Mayed; you were the only one who made him feel happy, you saw
his true colors while we were busy..” he cried.
“I miss him already.” My tears joined his.
“We all do son.” He smiled and joined the others.
…..
Wednesday, 22nd
of May 2013, 12am.
Hamad,
You left me four years ago, I miss you buddy. I miss your
laughter, your horrible rapping songs, your pointless conversations about how
college is a waste of time, your midnight calls were you’d tell me that there’s
a beautiful girl at your English class.. I miss you.
I stopped writing soon after your death, I stopped for three
years because I thought that no one would read the shit that I wrote. But a
year ago I had the courage to hold my pen again, do you want to know why?
Because I want others to see what you saw, I want to teach them what you taught
me about love. But deep down I’m dead like you; I died the day they shoved sand
over your body, I died when you took my soul with you..
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