Ninety Five

As narrated by Dee:

“I remember. I remember what happened.”

I stare at him in shock and slight apprehension.

“Yesterday, after you left, I sat and thought long and hard about everything. And it all kind of fell into place, I guess. It makes sense now; the scar on my forehead, the headaches.”

He pauses, sighing softly.

“Some of it is still a bit hazy… I’m not sure if it all really is true, but I remember almost everything now.”

And then Daanyaal is crying.

I pull him towards me, embracing his shaking body. And as he clings to me, sobbing painfully, I let my own tears flow.

Together the two siblings cried.

They cried for all the good times they knew would never come back. They cried for all good times they would never have, to look back at. They cried, for the memories they held, were ones they wished they could forget.

For every echo of every piercing scream, for every mark of every scarring hand, for every plea of mercy, for every silent question, for every unspoken word…

For every feeling of longing, for every feeling of betrayal, for every feeling of hate, of anger, of frustration, of confusion, of sadness, and for every unexplainable feeling too…

For all the hurt and all the pain; for all the tears, now fell a thousand thereof, from the eyes of two siblings, who had finally found a part of themselves – A being whose blood flowed with their own; a being who might make things a little better again..

And even once their tears finally dried, their bodies finally stilled, their minds finally calmed, and their hearts finally slowed, reeling in the anguish for another day perhaps, they still held on to each other… almost afraid to let go, lest they lose each other again.



As the clock ticked away loudly in the room, a tiny piece of wood was tossed into the small fire of burning hope Deeyanah kept alive, fueling it.

It was time for new beginnings – for surely things would change now.

But the question we never know the answer to, played on Deeyanah’s mind..

Yes, things would change… but, for the better? Or the worse?



As narrated by Amaani:

I stare at the number on my screen, finger hovering above the bright green ‘call’ option.

Do I, or do I not?

The conversation I had with Dee this morning plays in my mind…

“I’m not coming! I told you this already! Why do you keep on bringing it up?” Dee yells at me, angrily.

Hurt flashes through me.

“I’m sorry. I.. well, I just thought that you might have changed your mind… now that, you know…”

“Now that what? Now that my father’s dead? Well you know what? It doesn’t! I’ve made up my mind and I’m not changing it!” 

I feel my own anger bubbling up inside. 

“You’re being so selfish Deeyanah!” I shout at her, frowning.

“Oh, and you’re not?!” she challenges. 

“Yes, I’m not!” I answer hotly. “I’m trying to help you! But you clearly don’t want my help, so do whatever the hell you want!” 

Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock. 

Regret instantly overtakes me. 

“Look, Dee,” I start, lowering my voice, trying to cover up.

But she doesn’t allow me to finish. Taking her set of keys from the counter, she turns around and walks out of the kitchen. 

Seconds later, the front door slams. 

My phone rings in my hand, snapping me out of my daydream.


Amaani: Salaam.

Rameez: Wasalaam. What’s up?

Amaani: Nothing muuuch…

Rameez: We’re going to see Daanyaal, you want to come?

Amaani: ‘We’ would be who exactly?

Rameez: My dad, my mum, myself, and Zee.

Amaani: Okay. When are you’ll going?

Rameez: We’ll pick you up in 5?

Amaani: Alright, see you.

I cancel the call and head to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, the intercom buzzers.

I run down the stairs and pick it up.

“Meeeez, I’m not ready!! You told me 5 minutes, it’s been like 2 minutes!”

“Okay, okay, calm down crazy lady! We’ll wait.”

“Aren’t you’ll coming in? Oupa isn’t there?”

“Nope, it’s fine. Now go get done!”

“Alright, 5 minutes!”

“No, 2 minutes! Or else we’re leaving you!”

I run back upstairs to get some moisturizer, my jacket, and my shoes.

Back downstairs, I grab a packet of pretzels and some goodies for Daanyaal, before pocketing my phone, grabbing my house keys and rushing out.

I walk quickly to the main gate and head out.

“We were just about to leave you!” teases Zee, moving in to make space for me.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” I reply, punching him lightly.

I greet everyone, closing the door once I’m in.

“Deeyanah isn’t coming?” asks Aunty Aadila.

“She’s already there, I think,” I reply. “She’s there more often than at home these past few days…”

“Oh okay. Rameez, did you phone Sumayya?”

“Yes I did, she said she won’t make it.”


The drive is noisy – Meez, Zee, and I chatting away non-stop, with a comment every so often from Uncle Ismaeel or Aunty Aadila.

As we turn in onto the road of the Rehab, Zee frowns.

“Isn’t that Dee?” he asks, his eyes narrowing slightly as he strains them.

“Where?” I ask, looking in his direction of sight.

“Ther – Oh my god, no! DEEYANAH!”

As narrated by Dee:

I exit the building slowly, my head spinning.

The sun is too bright and the wind is too strong… or maybe I just really need to eat something and have a good sleep.

Now, to get home.. 

I reach for my phone inside my pocket.

Dammit, the battery is dead! Why didn’t I charge it before I came?!

Feeling irritable, my headache worsening with each step I take, I glance around.

I spot a pay phone across the road. Score!

Now if my body will just let me reach there.

I exit the gate, and start crossing the road… when suddenly everything seems disarranged.

I close my eyes for a moment, willing myself not to give in to the tiredness my body feels.

But when I open my eyes again, everything is twice as blurry.

Almost there, Dee.. almost there.

And then someone screams my name.

A hooter blares much too loudly, filling my entire being with a sudden rush of adrenaline as I realize where I am.

I’m in the middle of a road! Oh my God, I need to move. Move, move, move!!

But it’s already too late.

The sound of the hooter amplifies, drumming against my already pounding head…

Someone screams my name again, much closer this time…

And then I’m flung against the hard tar.

The last thing my mind registers is a screech of tires, before everything goes black.



17 thoughts on “Ninety Five

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