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by Liz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Romance/Love · #2255545
random scenes
In the street among the public under this red sky and red sunlight, I hit an old man. I slap his face and punch his belly, then I kick his balls as he gets down on his knees. I grab his shirt with my left hand and lift him up as I punch his face with the other hand. A punch after a punch, causing him to bleed through his nose holes. Everyone watches, but no one can stop me.
The bell rings as I stop punching him, realizing that I was just punching the air of my room. My head has been aching for about an hour. My mood is ruined more than it usually is, and my imagination triggers me and doesn't help at all. I open my bedroom door as I watch my mom greets Layla. I don't know how I am supposed to react. Normally, I would make it worse because of the rage and hate inside of me. My mom points a finger at my room as Layla draws a smile on her face. As my mom turns around and walks away, Layla runs towards me. The smile is gone, and the look in her eyes breaks me into pieces. She gets inside of my room as I close its door, then I turn around to see her right in front of me, shaking her head in silence, but in my ears, there is a voice of a silent scream. I can't break this freeze, and I don't want to open my mouth because I am scared to make it worse with my words. She starts tearing up as I get closer to her and move my arms around her as slow as I can. I wish this hug could pass all the pain she feels to me. I would've gladly taken it all. I grab her back with a hand and the back of her head with the other. Her arms are about to break the bones of my back, and her eyes are about to make us drown in this room. My heart hurts as she cries into my ears.
"It's okay," I whisper a couple of times, then I wrap my arms around her back as strong as I can.

My feet touch the floor as I sit down on my bed. Layla lays down on her side, and a side of her face is on my thighs, resting her head on my lap. I pat her hair and wipe off her last tears as she runs out of them.
"Sara, will I wake up every day and remember this? Is there no way I can erase a memory?" She mumbles.
"It's okay. Soon, you'll get over it and forget about it."
"But I want to run away and erase every memory of every man that has entered my life, starting with the retard who thinks that his honor is between my thighs."
"You'll leave him soon. You'll get married, and you will become rich."
"Just take me back," she turns her head at me, looking into my eyes. "Back when money wasn't within my sight, back when I would listen to my heart over my mind. Just take me back when I wasn't scared of love, back before this world ruined me."
"Hey, you're not ruined. You're beautiful the way you are."
She smirks as she shakes her head.
I stop patting her hair, "Give me a moment." She raises her head as I get up, then I take two steps and stand up, facing my closet. I sit down on the floor then I open my drawers one after one. "I wonder if I still have it," I mumble, then I keep looking for it. I'm scared it may not be the best idea. Here it is. I pull out a card pack and show it to her as she chuckles.
"You're a cute person. You know that, right?"
"Not really. Anyway, there is a problem, which is I don't remember how to play."
"I remember," She smiles. I know it may be a fake smile like the one she drew on her face when she arrived, but I don't want to let her keep thinking of it. Life hurts, but thinking of it kills. "Just get up on the bed," she continues.


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The rewrote one

She stood by the stairs in front of her door, almost sober but a little shaky. She slowly moved a hand to ring the bell as she was holding her phone with the other. The bell rings were followed by the sound of steps, getting higher as the seconds pass. Her brother opened the door, moving his eyes all over her as she walked in, past him. Her parents were sitting down on the couch. Her mom's eyes spoke for her worries.
"What is the time? And why is your phone turned off?" Her dad asked as he stood up, crossed his arms, and stared into her eyes.
Layla took a deep breath as she looked to her right side at the wall clock. "Almost eleven," she looked back at her dad. "My phone battery died, and I lost my attention to the time. I'm sorry," said Layla. Her voice was too low, and her moves were too slow.
"Layla, it better never happens again," he warned her and sat down.
"Yes, dad," she nodded her head.
She turned around in her room's direction and took one step as Ahmed grabbed her arm. He looked at their dad, "She is shaking." He pulled her back in front of their dad, then took a few steps backward as his dad drew a blank. Ahmed raised two fingers in the shape of a V and touched his lips with the tip of them. His dad nodded his head and stood up again.
"No. She is just scared because she is late," her mom broke her silence.
Her dad ignored her and stepped up to Layla. She turned her head down in a sideway, preparing her emotional state for anything. He grabbed her chin, lifting her head up and her face towards his. He got a little closer and faced her lips with his nose, then sniffed a couple of times. He took one step backward and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where did you get the weed?"
"What?" Layla mumbled.
He squeezed her chin. "Layla, you barely can speak, and the smell in your mouth says it all," he yelled at her. "Where did you smoke it? And with whom did you smoke it? Do you want to be a whore and make me walk with my head down?"
She cried, "I wasn't with a boy. I got it from a girl in—"
He slapped her face hard enough that she fell to the floor. "Do you want me to believe that?"
"No," her mom stood up, walking towards him. "This is not the right way to—"
"Shut up, woman."
"Please, listen—"
"I said shut up," he started at her eyes. "Am I not clear?" He looked back at Layla, "Tomorrow, you'll get a virginity test." He walked away as he shouted, "Do you want the shame to haunt me?"
Her brother turned his head down at her and shook it, then he walked away. Her head was down as she was watching her tears fall down, hitting the floor and making a little noise. She felt her salty tears on the edges of her lips as they were slipping over her cheeks all the way down to her chin. She raised her head, looking at her mom with a blurred vision to see a helpless look in her eyes. She was waiting for a miracle to prevent what her dad had ordered, but nothing happened as she stood up and realized that reality isn't always nice. She slowly walked to her room, wiping her tears with her dress as she felt dizzy.
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