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Dear Ana: Chapter 8

THEN

Dear Ana,

My plan was simple. I was going to call her, tell her that Mikhail was terrible and she should break up with him, and then this guilty obligation I was feeling like Mikhail being terrible was somehow my fault would go away and I could go back to feeling nothing.

Did my plan go as intended? No. Did my plan completely blow up in my face? Yes.

Step one was to get a phone. I had two options, Ana. I could ask my friends who I stopped sitting with at lunch without notice because they weren’t very good friends, or I could ask the girl whose name I didn’t know that sat at my table in the library. We had an unspoken agreement, this mystery girl and I. We shared a table in the library at lunch––her at one end, me at the other––and we just didn’t speak. There were no introductions or fake small talk. She did her chemistry homework while I read my cheesy romance novels, and it was nice, sitting in silence, not having to force conversation.

I chose option one because I didn’t want to disrupt the equilibrium we had created between us.

Do I regret my choice? Yes, yes I do.

“Hey Dania,” I said, standing by our usual lunch table. Not ‘ours’. I hadn’t sat with them in months. “Do you mind if I use your phone for a minute? I need to call my mom.”

“No . . . I guess it’s fine,” she replied hesitantly, giving Lena a look.

“Thanks,” I said, giving her an awkward smile. I quickly left the cafeteria, eager to get away from their judgmental stares and shared looks.

I walked around school until I found an empty hallway and opened my fist revealing the balled-up piece of paper. I carefully smoothed out the wrinkles so I could read the numbers, and dialed with shaky fingers.

“Hello?”

My breathing stopped.

“Hello?” she repeated, louder.

Still no lung movement. There was no way that could be humanly possible, right?

“Hello?” she said, irritated now. “If you prank call me again, I am going to report this number––”

“It’s me!” I blurted.

“Maya?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, hey . . . what’s up?”

And then everything I’d rehearsed disappeared from my mind.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called you,” I backtracked quickly, hoping she would just hang up and I would never have to face her again.

“Are you sure? You can tell me anything. I would love to be friends.”

Despite her manipulative performance yesterday, Hiba sounded kind of . . . sweet? Didn’t I owe it to her then, to do the right thing? To save her from having to experience the things I did, if she hadn’t already experienced them?

“Look Hiba, I don’t know the right way to say this so I’m just going to say it. You need to end things with Mikhail.”

I held my breath, waiting for a response. A sound indicating that she heard me. Anything.

“Excuse me?” she said, an edge to her voice.

“I know I have no right to tell you what to do, and this may be none of my business. But, you have to understand, he is not a good person.”

“Mikhail is the best thing that ever happened to me,” she said after a moment.

“No, Hiba, listen to me. He has you fooled, okay? He’s just pretending to be a good boyfriend and a good person, but I’m his sister. I live with him and I see a side of him that you don’t see. He has done terrible things. He––”

I stopped, but it wasn’t intentional. It was like my mouth suddenly didn’t know how to work anymore, or my vocal cords ran out of battery.

“He what?”

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out. Why couldn’t I just say it? Why did I feel so . . . guilty? Like I was lying? That seed of doubt was starting to sprout branches in my mind, intertwining with all my memories. What was real and what was my imagination running amok?

“He . . .” I tried again, my voice so faint I couldn’t tell if she could even hear me.

“Did Mikhail hurt you?”

I always told myself that if only someone would just ask, then I would tell them. My parents never asked. The doctors at the hospital never asked. But now this girl that I didn’t know was asking if Mikhail had ever hurt me.

The word yes was on my tongue, ready to be said, but when I opened my mouth the only thing that came out was an unintelligible sound––like I was choking––and then suddenly I was choking. Choking on air. Choking on that stupid word made of sand in the back of my throat.

“It’s okay. I understand, Maya.”

She understood, which meant she knew. She knew I was trying to say yes and she believed me. Maybe this could be the start of something. Maybe we could take this further, to my parents, and the doctors I saw and maybe even higher up. Two people were always better than one. Something was brewing inside me, Ana. A tiny sliver of hope was starting to bloom . . .

“You put on a convincing act.”

. . . and just as quickly that sliver shriveled up into nothing.

“He warned me that you would try something like this.”

“What?”

“Mikhail warned me about you when we first met,” she said, laughing humorlessly. “He told me all about that car accident. You know, I thought he was exaggerating. It didn’t occur to me that anyone could be cruel enough to make up lies about their own brother.”

Lies, Ana.

“How dare you?” she seethed through the phone and into my ear. “How dare you treat him like this when all he’s ever done is love you? This has gone far beyond trivial sibling banter. This is toxic, Maya. You are toxic.”

“No, he’s lying to you,” I said quickly. “He’s the toxic one. He has severe anger issues and it just comes out of nowhere, you’ll never see it coming! You have to get away from him, Hiba, please, before he––”

“Shut up!” She demanded loudly, interrupting me. “Do you even hear yourself? How manipulative you sound? You’re trying to drive me away from him because you don’t want him to be happy. Your victimized tactics may have worked on your parents, but they won’t work on me.”

“My parents? I have never––”

“Just stop, Maya. I really hope one day you’ll accept the help you need.”

“Wait, Hiba, just listen––”

“Goodbye.”

“Hiba.”

Silence.

“Hiba please,” I whispered into the dead phonebut the beep of the dial tone started, so I slowly dropped my hand limply to my side.

It was over.

I should’ve known Mikhail would cover his bases from the get-go, just like he did at the hospital. I guess he knew me better than I thought he did.

I leaned back against the lockers as the disgusting cloud of humiliation dawned on me. What was I thinking? What part of me thought this would end well? Why would she believe anything I ever said?

“Stop,” I pleaded quietly, covering my ears tightly with my hands, willing the thoughts to come to an end. The harder I tried to push her words out of my head, the stronger they pushed back and forced themselves into the sliver of space between my irises and closed eyelids.

The first warning bell buzzed, signaling the end of lunch. The sound of students rushing into the hallway, and opening their lockers broke me out of my reverie. I saw Dania and the others on my way back to the cafeteria and quickly headed their way.

“Hey, here’s your phone, sorry I took so long––”

“Where have you been?” she snapped, snatching the phone out of my hand. “You said you would only be a minute.”

Her words stung my fresh wounds. I opened my mouth to apologize again, but she turned on her heel and walked away, her posy one step behind her. Before she was out of earshot her next words still reached me, clear as day.

“What kind of teenager doesn’t have a phone anyway?” she asked rhetorically, her voice deprecating.

“I know right,” Lena laughed.

The second bell buzzed, saving me from having to hear any more of their conversation, and the rest of the school day passed in a blur. As soon as my mom came home I went straight to my closet and curled up in a tight ball. I was still in disbelief at how things had panned out, but there was only one thing on my mind.

Was she going to tell Mikhail that I called her?

Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as her harsh words whispered in my ears again. She was so convinced I wasn’t telling the truth. What could he have said to make her believe that? What lies did he feed her about me? Most importantly though, were they even lies? The more I tried to remember, the more confused I became. All the details were getting jumbled together with her words, and nothing made sense anymore. There was no way I could even validate the things in my head. How could I prove myself when it was just me? I was so sure of myself before but now . . . the weeds of doubt were sprouting quickly, their stems thick and sharp, knocking a few pegs off my ladder of confidence.

I heard the front door open with a sudden bang, and my body immediately switched on high alert.

“MAYA!”

His feet were running up the stairs loudly, quickening my breath with every step. The closet suddenly flung open, and before I knew what was happening I was off the floor and slammed into the wall with Mikhail’s hand wrapped around my neck like a noose.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? Why the fuck would you call my girlfriend?” he whispered. His face was close, only a millimeter away, his saliva sprinkling me with sparks of lava.

“How dare you threaten her?” he said louder this time, enunciating his question with another shove, and my head once again banged against the wall. I could feel my brain shudder with the impact.

“I didn’t threaten her.” I could barely get the words out from my compressed airways. “I was just trying to warn her.”

“Warn her?” he laughed. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to her.”

His words echoed Hiba’s exactly. He must have trained her well.

“Are you jealous of her?” His voice was lower now, a murmur in my ear. “She is twice––no––a million times the woman you will ever be. Do you understand me, Maya?”

His fingers pressed deeper into my skin, imprinting his mark.

“Do you think you can tell her lies about me? Do you think she’ll believe you? She loves me, okay? She adores me. She lives and breathes just to cherish and obey me. You will never understand how that feels. You will never be loved, Maya. Do you hear me?”

I tried to inch away and wiggle out of his grasp. but that only made his grip tighter.

“I thought things would be different. I thought that car crash would have taught you a lesson, or made you better,” he sighed in disappointment. “But you’re still the same. You’re still so desperate for attention that you’ve gone and tried to interfere with my relationship.”

I pounded and pushed against his body frantically, starting to feel lightheaded.

“Do you think I like doing this? You make me do this,” he explained desperately. “This is your fault, Maya.”

“Mikhail what are you doing? Let her go!” Mama shrieked from behind him but he didn’t move. His manic eyes were zeroed in on me, and his crushing grip squeezed tighter around my neck until black spots started popping up in my vision.

“Mikhail stop, she can’t breathe!” My mom grabbed his arm and pulled. A shocked look appeared on his face like he genuinely didn’t realize she was there, which momentarily loosened his grip. I quickly slipped out from between him and the wall and ran for the stairs, coughing and clutching my chest. I grabbed the phone on instinct, before going into the bathroom and locking the door.

I gasped at the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Finger-like bruises were starting to blossom across the surface of her neck. Her eyes were red and splotchy from lack of oxygen and exploded blood vessels were leaking into her pupils.

I leaned against the sink trying to catch my breath, but it felt like my throat had permanently molded into a smaller airway. My breaths were coming in and out constricted and scratchy, barely giving me any clarity. I hunched over as my body started convulsing with dry heaves and desperate sobs.

I could hear yelling from above. I needed to go and protect my mom, but how could I protect her when I couldn’t even protect myself? I held the phone in front of me with trembling hands, ready to make a call. But I had no one to call. No one could help us.

I continued to stare at the numbers as the yelling grew louder. As long as I heard yelling, that meant she wasn’t hurt.

I ran my thumb over the buttons gently, waiting.

A loud bang thundered from above, making me jump out of my skin, and before I knew what I was doing my finger was moving on the dial pad.

“Maya?” Mama called, her footsteps coming down the stairs.

I breathed a sigh of relief. She was okay. My mom was okay. Everything was okay . . . until a woman’s voice floated through the phone.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?”


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