Hiraeth

20

SHE felt the warm water burn her skin. Her lips let out a gasp, but she still stood under that shower. She could hear the sounds of her children that were ringing in her ears from outside for a very long time. She wanted to be relieved hearing the blow of their soft laughter, but she couldn't. 

She placed her hands against the those cold walls, lending any form of physical support to withhold herself from crumbling down. 

"This much stubbornness isn't good, Sitara." 

Her shivering hands quickly closed the shower. Regaining her composure, she began to fetch herself the bathrobe that hung in a corner. 

A whimper crossed her lips as she tried tying it around her body. Rehaan's mother had once very lovingly admitted that she had gotten it made for her. It had delicately hand painted pink roses etched on its fabric. 

She could recall his dreadful face and voice even in her sleep. Every single fragment of his being, habits and horrors were forever imprinted in a section of her mind that she knew would remain intact even if she were to be burnt down into ashes. 

"Mumma?" Ayla almost yelled, half giggling as she knocked onto the bathroom door. She could hear Abeer too. They were too caught up in their own little world of play and fun to even notice her.

"Yes, love. Coming." She sniffed, rolling a towel above her thick brown locks and slowly attempted to open up to their beaming faces.

"He just called me by my name." She enthusiastically informed, glancing back at her brother who seemed nothing short of amused by the sudden shift of attention upon him. 

Although Abeer was two, he barely spoke any words. There were no proper words that he'd pronounce apart from 'Mama' and sometimes a few funny sounding abbreviations that he had created on his own. 

"Say Ayla." She held him by his shoulders, practically attempting to force out the words from him but he wouldn't budge.

"Mama." He said instead, pushing her out of his way and advanced towards Sitara to be picked up. 

"Ayla." Sitara slowly pronounced, looking at her son furrowing his eyebrows in bewilderment. 

"I think he still needs some time." She let out a feeble smile, ruffling Ayla's hair and put him down.

Her mind was once again grasped by those sinking thoughts of doom as she ushered her children to leave her alone for a while. She had no energy to attend to them for that moment.

She didn't know if she was making the right decision by going there.

"Whoopsie." The maid breathed out, adjusting the tray of clinking cups in her hands as the children mindlessly ran around, barely paying any heed to their surroundings. 

"Abeer, Ayla? Enough." Sitara sighed, trying on a mild lipstick from the dresser drawers but eventually frowned; hating how evident it was. 

"It's lovely." The disappointment sewn across the house help's face made Sitara smile while she continued to wipe it off her lips. 

"Really?" She asked, glancing at her carefully adding her usual two spoons of sugar to the tea. 

Sitara finally managed to take in a breath of relief as she sat down to have her evening tea. It wasn't a lie that her insides were in for a war, but something about that little break brought in a lot of calm to her. She couldn't recall the last time she had sat down to eat or drink in peace that day. 

Her nose was still a little red and her skin had never looked this pale as she began to notice her meek reflection in the mirror. She quietly continued to sip her tea as the maid took hold of her tresses and plugged in the hair dryer.