- What if the world told you 'men never change'. Would you still believe in redemption?
- What if your whole life is shrouded in secrecy. Would you shed your mask for one person anyway?
- What if an avatar intrigued you. Could you fall in love with...
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Ameerah
Today marked the opening of the Tariq Women and Children's Shelter to the public. While some renovations were still in progress, I, along with a couple of nurses, social workers, and therapists, assumed our positions in the medical wing of the shelter.
"You already have three patients booked today," nurse Naseema announced as soon as I walked in.
"Where are they from?"
"All three referred from the children's shelter in Clifton."
She handed me a file of the first boy; a 16 year old with a history of drug use, now found to be HIV positive.
Drugs + HIV.
I stilled. Memories of a disheveled man flashed through my mind, transporting me back to a moment when my heart had shattered for someone whom my parents believed didn't deserve an ounce of sympathy.
***Flashback***
"Aimmy."
I thought I heard a faint whisper as I stood at the gate of house, nervously waiting for my car pool ride to show up. Ninth grade final exams were starting that day, and I could not afford being late.
"Aimmy," I heard that voice again.
This time, I scanned the nearly deserted street until I spotted a man partially concealed behind a large banyan tree. His face, mostly hidden by an overgrown beard, was framed by tangled shoulder-length hair. As he approached me, the repulsive stench of body odor made me recoil in disgust.
"Go away before I call my father," I yelled in panic.
Every instinct told me to run back into the house. I would have too if he hadn't grabbed my arm, forcing me to notice the blue-green bracelet on his wrist. Despite being covered in mud, I instantly recognized it. Why wouldn't I? I had once made it so lovingly for a brother I adored.
I peered into the unmistakable grey eyes of the man in front of me. Recognition hit me as hard as the realization of what he had been upto all these months when he would fight with our father and disappear from home on the pretense of finding out more about our past.
My voice wavered, sorrow at the state of my brother clashed with anger at him for bringing this on to himself. "Afaan Bhai?"
He released me and took a step back. His glistening eyes spoke of the regret his words hadn't yet expressed.
"I am so sorry, Aimmy," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I - I didn't want you to see me this way, but I need your help."
"Are you using drugs?" I stared at him, still unable to believe that the brother who had sworn to protect me, the only one sharing a blood relation with me in our household, would forsake me and succumb to such a heinous vice.
