Deceived; Chapter 40; Epilogue

Yes, this is the last chapter of Deceived. It's been a pleasure writing such a story and sharing it with all of my readers.

A brand new story with a brand new topic will be written in the beginning of 2013, enshallah.

I just want to thank everyone that was very patient during this time period, I really appreciate it.

I just hope the moral is cherished inside each and every one of your hearts and minds.

Take it to consideration, learn from it.

And to everyone who has been through the same situation as Ghaneya, please speak up, it's never too late!

If you're unable to, contact me, I'd be more than welcome to help you out! :)

-

It's amazing how far I've come. It's even more amazing how much I coped with this situation.

It takes a long time for a girl to realize right from wrong. 

Eyes, you've not failed this time to allow my vision to succeed.

I don't even have the urge to imagine how miserable my life would have been if I hadn't realized my mistake.

What's awesome would be that I know now that not everybody is trustworthy, nor real.

There are real people, but fake ones, too.

The lesson I've learned would be to never ever trust one who is behind the screen.

I've chosen the wrong path, I admit. Although, now I need to bear the consequences, which will hopefully come to an end.

My story, I believe, carried such a valuable message, which is the number one reason I wished to write it down, to keep it in remembrance, to never forget it, the lessons, of course.

You may find a lady or man, who seem like regular people.

They could be teachers, husbands, fathers, or even a friend.

I'm not intending to frighten you with my words, no. I want you to be wise while befriending other people.

Never, ever, send pictures of yourself of any sort, through the internet, especially to a person you don't quite know very well.

Perhaps they can photoshop it, due to simple software access, nowadays.

No personal information that might cause them to meet you, must be told.

Another thing, innocent people, doesn't matter whether it was a girl or a boy, are what attract such sick creatures.

A warning like mine must be read by everyone that may have done habits like these;

-Giving away account passwords to people who are not trustworthy.

-Sending ANY private photos of yourself, such as nudity or any image type.

-Telling them where you are.

-Keeping everything to yourself, confidentially.

There's no intention to over-speak about this, but this is a very common sickness nowadays, and people, sometimes, may be too ignorant to realize.

Trust takes a long time to develop, most of the time.

Your parents must be aware of every thing you do, online, or through messages.

You may think, "I'm not a baby, I understand, I won't fall into the trap."

No, I thought that.

And now?

I'm depressed. I'm hurt. I'm betrayed. And soon, I'm going to be my school's latest buzz.

I was in love, and when you're in love you do things without a second thought.

I'm not saying that your teacher, or father, or husband, or friend is a sick person, don't twist my words.

I'm speaking of the people you haven't known for a long time, because you may get hurt.

And if you were stuck in the same conflict as I was, having my father and brother out of the country, and agreed on meeting a man you've never met, make sure your parents are aware.

No matter how old or young, wise or dumb you are, a parental guidance is always needed.

All I'm wondering about is how Mayyar, Layyan, and Munya feel about having two deceived girls in their group.

I regret every single thing in my recent past.

I wish I never replied to Fouad's DM.

-

A month and a half has passed ever since that day at the hospital.

Rania's still there, until now, and she's doing great, as well!

The girls and I tend to visit her every other day, after school.

The relationship between the five of us grew into something we never expect would grow into, all our lives.

But ever since Rania stared at me with hawk eyes, she admitted herself, she found out.

Turns out her father confessed, which was very odd, in my opinion.

I didn't ask for further more details, I didn't want to seem like a girl who was drowning in an ocean of desperation.

But what I think happened, he received those moments where he needed entertainment again, so maybe speaking of me would give him the privilege to feel it?

-

Even though its been almost 3 months since Fouad's incident, I believe the healing of the conflict just began.

Everything's starting to fall back together  again, finally.

Uncle Talal will be sent out of the picture, Rania will hopefully be cured, and I've gained my father's trust again, well.. not entirely, but I will, eventually.

Since it was a regular Friday, and we've just returned from our grandmother's house, my father, Fahad, and I decided to watch a movie while chilling on the couch, with a bowl of popcorn on my lap, sitting in-between the two men. If only my father new how to make different snacks to munch on on an ordinary movie day.

The only thing missing, this entire time, was the smell of a freshly baked carrot cake my mother used to occupy her day with.

Every single thing she would cook or bake had such a scent that couldn't be provided by anyone else but her.

She was truly an inspirational human.

Sobbing, at the moment, felt so old, there was no use in tearing, anymore.

Why tear when she's watching over you? I thought.

Is this how you want her to see you? I thought once again.

Strength was developing, strength began developing ever since I went through the phase which devastation overflowed from.

Silence is a girl's loudest cry.

-

"Who could that be?" my father questioned as we heard the doorbell.

"I'll get it." I said approaching our wooden, mahogany entrance.

I was confused as the large, strong piece of wood was opened widely, a man in a patient's uniform, stood in front of me.

"Ghaneya.."

It was hard to tell by his face, but his voice burst in recognition.

Uncle Talal.

His hair was shaved off.

Behind him was a regular small, white car that had a sticker plastered across the door.

"St. Bernard's Clinic - Where WE Help YOU"

I looked at Uncle Talal again from head to toe, he looked fragile, although had the same eyes that deceived me that day, the same eyes that escorted me to the suite, the same eyes that watched me exit the bathroom, half naked.

"What do you want?" I said furiously, but silently.

"I'm stuck in this hospital for another 6 months, why did you tell on me, Ghaneya?" he replied, innocently.

I couldn't confront him as the memories flowed right into my vacant mind, all over again.

"Why?!"

"Why, Ghaneya?! WHY?!"

The hospital men from inside the car, ten seconds later, were on my front porch grabbing the loud man away from me.

He was acting all crazy like.

"Why Ghaneya, why?????????" he asked screaming again, but now, the two men struggling to keep the insane man stable while trying to inject him.

"What's going on?!" my father said as he and Fahad came wondering what the fuss was all about.

"Take him away, please!" commanded Fahad as he realized what was happening.

My father put his arms around my shoulders. His embrace showed so much strength, passion, and protection. His gesture implied fear. He feared that I would be taken away from his arms again. I knew that this time, my father would never allow any man to touch me, especially Uncle Talal.

"Excuse us, if you may, please forgive us." said one of the men, as the other managed to get a hold of the animal-like man.

As they entered the car, still trying to calm down my father's screaming ex-friend, I found something on the 'Welcome' mat, in front of the door.

I held it up high in order to get a proper reading.

"I'm sorry, Ghaneya" it said.

With all my might, I tore the dirty, white piece of paper, and wished, deep inside, that I will never lay eyes on his hideous face again.

I looked at the white car that sat facing our home, noticed the driver fixing his seatbelt, saw Uncle Talal's mouth wide open which indicated his loud screams, and watched the car, drive away, dragging all my memories along with it...

Deceived; Chapter 39

"Ghaneya, why didn't you tell me when you found out?" said my father.

-

"I didn't know how to tell you.." I broke the silence five minutes later, "I was ashamed, depressed, angry-"

"But I'm still your father, what happened to our nights where you would just tell me everything?"

"I guess.. I got carried away with the whole situation, I don't know what to do.." I broke down sobbing while running into him for a warm embrace. I missed them.

"Mr. Al-*****, my mother and us, my brothers and sisters, except for Rania, have been suggesting and talking about sending him to an institution, in a month, or two, where he could use some help." spoke Ziyad.

I can't believe his family gave such a suggestion.

Although he could use it, big time.

I looked up into my father's brown eyes, they were filled with agreement.

The two boys left the room, and left my father and I alone.

"Ghaneya, come over here" he said as he held my wrist and walked over to the nearest couch.

The tears from my eyes rolled down my face, incessantly.

He sat and I stood facing him.

He began rubbing my cold cheeks, admiring the eyes that resemble his, as if he was thinking of words to speak of.

"Ghaneya" he told me, still staring.

My eyes began to water up all over again, and this time, my nose turned red, I was trying to hold the tears in.

I failed.

"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright."

"No" I replied with a voice implying a whole new set of tears will soon be visible, "no, it won't!"

"Ever since your mother died, Ghaneya" he said. I could tell he was going to cry, too, "all of us have been going through such a very tough, tough time."

The remembrance of my mother just had me on my knees.

I felt hopeless.

Why me?

Why my family?

Why my mother?

I tried to hold in all the sorrow, and keep my faith in God strong, because he hears us, and hears every single breath, every single voice, and every single heart beat.

No matter how much you pray and wish for stuff, though it hasn't been granted yet, it will, just give it some time. It will happen, at the suitable moment.

"الا بذكر الله تطمئن القلوب"

I kept reminding myself.

"But-" my divine father said, "promise me, you will think twice before acting."

"Because, you don't know how it feels, it hurts, Ghaneya. Having a daughter like you is a gift" my father's tears began to show, "but having a gift opened by someone else is extremely painful!"

"You're my baby girl, Ghaneya, and I love you so much, please-"

I comforted him and ran into his arms.

"Please, just promise me that we'll stay as close as ever, we're in this together, and I will stand by your side no matter what."

"I promise" I cried harder, "I promise!"

-

"Hello, you must be Ghaneya?" the nurse said.

"Yeah, I called twenty minutes ago asking about the visiting hours?" I replied.

"Yes, let me take you to the room" she answered escorting us.

"I can't believe she's become really ill!"

"I just hope she isn't suffering."

"God help her parents."

As we were ushered to hospital room, we saw her, laying in bed, sleeping, with a bunch of tissue papers surrounding her blanket-covered legs, and her hands as skinny as ever, with needles connected to the back of it.

Pain rushed through our veins.

Watching our dear friend Rania sleeping on a hospital bed was heartbreaking.

We walked up to her, and just stared.

Layyan and Munya began tearing, while Mayyar and I were just brushing her hair with our fingers.

Her hair too felt weak, and her face was sallow.

"Excuse me, when will she be able to leave the hospital?" I questioned the nurse as she entered, we all approached her, waiting for an answer, anxiously.

"In a couple of weeks she'll be better, hopefully." she replied.

A few seconds later, we heard a quiet yawn. We turned around and watched Rania, wake up.

"What are you doing here?" she asked smiling.

"How can we not be here, Rania?"

"Yeah, Rania, we have to!"

Each of us replied differently.

"I'm sorry you have to see me this way.." she said.

"Don't worry, the nurse said you'll be out in a couple of weeks." Mayyar assured her.

"I hope so!" Rania answered, "hey, did my parents drop by while I was asleep?"

I was too embarrassed to reply, thank god Munya did.

"We just got here."

Moments later, I felt an eye on me, I was positive it was Rania's.

My eyes wandered around the pale room, watched the girls making themselves comfortable, and lastly, I looked at the sick girl on the white hospital bed.

She was looking at me suspiciously, although she tried to hide it with a slight smile.

I felt as though she knew about my situation.

Her eyes, now, were filled with suspicion, however, her attempt to hide it was unsuccessful.

Rania knew, my mind thought.

With her eyes on me for 2 whole minutes, I was finally adapted to what was going on.

Rania knew..

Deceived; Chapter 38.2

Zeyad's words stabbed my heart, but were touching, in some odd way.

My heart's broken into tiny pieces.

Emotionally, I sort of felt my life on its way crashing down.

The conversation between the three of us that day was shocking, shocking, I tell you.

The words that escaped Fahad's mouth was just as surprising, too.

The questions I had wandering about in my confused, small-looking head were indeed answered.

Our dialogue repeated itself in my stored memories once each scene was over.

Inside of me, my heart was disapproved of Rania. I might as well pity her, but aren't I just as similar to feel sorrowful for?

Her current situation isn't why I intend to deprecate her, it's just, her father, he's the one to blame..

My life is in ruins because of a man.

A normal fifteen year-old receives problems of the usage of makeup, or wardrobe panic attacks, not some silly old man that tricks young, innocent girls for amusement.

The ultimate source of irritation comes from the thought of reminding myself continuously that I'm not who I used to be, in fact, I'm a whole different me.

Lately, Munya and I have been quite normal with one another.

The girls, as I recall, followed her and befriended me, once again.

I've heard through the girls that Rania has been stuck in deep, deep depression.

She hasn't left the house ever since.

They offered to visit her.

No, I thought, her home is owned by the human that deluded me, and made me fall into this black hole of ruse and deception. Munya still hasn't found out that 'Fouad' is the father of our best friend. She would be complaining in devastation about how unnatural this world has become, how everybody isn't who they seem to be.

Although, the strange thing is, as they said, she has been getting symptoms of some kind of contagious illness.

STD, they said.

I just hope it's only the beginning, and a cure would be on her way.

Despite my heart's disapproval of her, she still is considered one of my close friends, after all, we've been through thick and thin, pretty and ugly, and we're basically in the same position, now.

However, I, myself, shouldn't be complaining, where as I could have been in a much tougher situation than I already am in.

I repetitively complain and complain over useless things, when I don't even think of others.

Many would die to have a life like mine, when I'm not even thankful to have perfect health.

Thank God.

I repeat, thank you, God.

-

On the following lazy Saturday, as usual, it was a regular chilling day at home, I sat down on the sofa facing the television, and began flipping through the channels.

I was almost comfortable until an irritating feeling got me, it was random, but I felt as if it was such a normal feeling, a feeling I received ever since 'Uncle Talal' visited.

My heart has always been occupied with hatred towards Rania's father, which never seemed to escape.

I feel as though it's an instinctive behavior.

And as I was thinking of my recent past, the ordinary conversational flashback between Zeyad, Fahad, and I begun.

"But the real reason" continued Zeyad, "why I visited your brother is to talk to you about someone in my family..."

"Before you begin, I know nothing about what has happened to Rania!" I spoke assuring them.

"Oh, well who said it was about Rania?" he proudly said, "It's about my father, Talal Al-*****"

I knew it.

I silently gasped, wondering what's next, what's next?!

"I've heard.. from my father, himself..." he spoke, "a-h-h.. it's too shameful to even mention, but you do get what I am talking about, do you?"

I did, indeed, I nodded making sure Fahad won't notice. He would flip to his dark side, immediately.

"He really confides in me, and I know he has been doing this to a couple, in the past-"

What really harmed me emotionally were his last words.

It hurts to see something you depressingly went through, being went through, maybe even worse, with a 'couple' of others, in the past.

Ouch.

I shed a light tear, too light it couldn't be seen.

What I went through was difficult, and not easy. It wasn't just a regular 'every-once-in-a-while" problem, it was serious. It was rape.

"But," continued Zeyad, "we, as a family, try to cope with his problem, it's been going on for a while now.."

"Problem? What problem?" I replied quietly inquiring with a sense of suspense deep in my innocent, innocent heart.

"You didn't know? My father's bipolarity disease gets to him every once in a few months. He tends to seek entertainment, and my mother isn't able to offer him that.." answered the boy standing beside my brother, who was deeply listening to our conversation.

A few minutes later, Zeyad spoke once again.

 "I'm sorry to tell you this. But, basically, I just want to apologize for the inconvenience, and I know you've been through a lot, recently, Fahad told me."

I faced my dear brother.

He knew?

"You knew?" I spoke up.

"I was just as shocked, Ghaneya." he replied, "at first, I had no idea it was Uncle Talal, I thought it was an unknown man, but since I trusted Zeyad, and have known his ever since, I spoke to him about it, and he opened up.."

My thoughts, at the moment, revolved around one, and only one man, my father.

Did he find out who 'Fouad's' true identity was?

Before I began to speak, I turned my head to face Rania's brother.

"Did you tell my f-f-f-f-a-a-"

Before I could continue my last word, I was hastily interrupted by a voice that came from behind.

"Ghaneya, why didn't you tell me when you found out?" said my father.

Deceived; Chapter 38.1

"Ghaneya!"

"Ghaneya, where are you?!"

I was trying to figure out who's voice does that belong to?

I was on my bed, staring at the frameless wall in front of me.

I was dull-looking.

After Fouad's words were directed to me, I was too scared to even make eye contact with him right after he created such a threat.

"Ghaneya" I heard the voice again, but this time, louder. It was approaching the narrow hallway beside my bedroom.

"Ghaneya?" I heard with a knock.

I was too dug into my thoughts in which I didn't want to waste a second of my concentration.

The footsteps appeared closer and closer.

The figure entered my room, officially.

Turning around was something I wasn't bothered to do.

My body ached. I felt hopeless.

A moment later, a figure blocked my view of the frameless wall, and all I could see was beige shorts topped with an Abercrombie & Fitch blue t-shirt.

He came back.

Fahad's finally back.

-

"So, how's it going with school, Ghaneya?" spoke Fahad as he leaned across the table to grab the salt sitting by the pepper beside the edge of the table.

We were having our usual Friday breakfast.

My appetite was suddenly smaller. I wasn't interested in consuming, anyways.

 I took a while to reply, instead, I was relocating the big chunks of the untouched cut omelet within my plate.

"Not bad, my grades are better than last year.."

As Fahad's mouth shaped itself to let me know that he's going to speak, his phone rang at the same time.

His facial expressions twisted into joy as he checked the caller ID.

"Zeyad!" I heard him speak through his telephone.

"Yeah it's fine, sure, hey, stop by today!"he added.

He was so happy, for some reason.

Who's Zeyad?

-

"Fahad! How's it going?" I heard from down the stairs. I could also hear the loud back slaps boys give each other.

I was too curious to know who he was, so there I was, with messy hair and wacky clothes, walking down the stairs, I peeked through the chilling area, and spotted the boy my brother was so happy about.

He was spotted with a black leather jacket, some blue jeans, and he paired it on with loafers.

The world has the fewest men with sense of style.

He was an average-looking guy, my brother's age. I noticed his tendency to laugh about five times in ten minutes.

On the third hour of Zeyad's stay, Fahad called me in, apparently.

"Hi, Ghaneya, how are you?" said Zeyad.

"Hi" I replied with my head down.

"This is my friend, Zeyad Talal Al-*****" Fahad interrupted.

Talal

Talal

Talal

Fouad?

Could it?

It can't!

At that moment, I suddenly began thinking whether Fahad did or did not find out yet about my recent past.

Why hasn't he said something to me, yet?

Why is he acting so normal and ordinary?

Fahad is usually the first boy who finds out about all sorts of my problems.

"Do you happen to know my sister?" asked Zeyad.

"Who's your sister?" I wondered and said.

"Rania" he replied, "I have a twin, too.."

Rania's brother is here, in my house.

Awkward.

"But the real reason" continued Zeyad, "why I visited your brother is to talk to you about someone in my family..."

"Before you begin, I know nothing about what has happened to Rania!" I spoke assuring them.

"Oh, well who said it was about Rania?" he proudly said, "It's about my father, Talal Al-*****"

I knew it.

Deceived; Chapter 37

First of all I would like to thank ALL of those who waited for this chapter. It was late due to receiving a cold & infection. I'm sort of better at the moment, and I've really missed writing, so here I am. :D

Dedications : @Noora981 @ZainAlM47 xx
*DM me if you want the next post dedicated to you!*

-

Not a single breath escaped my pink lips. I was absolutely shocked, yet terrified.

I couldn't confront him. I couldn't confront him especially since my father was sitting right beside him, staring at me, wondering why I was incapable of moving.

Fouad.

Uncle Talal?

Rania.

Best friend.

Her father?

This is too much.

Too much, my brain couldn't carry it any longer.

I just craved to sob and weep over everything in life.

The ache in my heart took over me, and eventually lead to a nonstop racing one.

"Ghaneya" my father spoke, snapping me back to reality.

I turned my head facing the two men.

"Should I tell my father that the man sitting beside him isn't who he seems to be?"

"Or should I keep quiet?"

Questions, questions, lots and lots of questions wandered in my head.

Internally, I didn't know whether I should continue my steps towards the couch or just run away?

"Ghaneyaaa" my father spoke again as both of the men stood up from their seats, "This is Rania's father, Talal Al-*****"

A huge lump of angry tears was unable to exit, I was overwhelmed with utter frustration!

The only scene captured in my already-blown-up head is the look of 'Uncle Talal's' face if I ran up to him and stabbed his heartless chest.

There's no name assigned for him, at the moment. It was either Fouad, Uncle Talal, or the man that destroyed my life.

Tension filled the air as I walked up to my father and stood beside him.

The atmosphere appeared warmer.

My father leaned against me and asked me to greet him.

No matter how much I refused to inside of me, I had to act as if he was a regular friend of my father's.

I shook his hand and had the guts to stare right into his evil brown eyes. They were filed with deception, ruse, and wickedness.

No words could describe my bitter hatred towards this sick old man.

"We would like to talk to you about Rania, his daughter." said my father as we sat back down, pointing at Fouad, I-I-i mean 'Uncle Talal'.

"Yeah, I know, believe me, I haven't spoken to her in a while, I have no clue whatsoever what's going on." I interrupted hastily.

"Talal here, is very concerned-"

Concerned of the fact having a raped daughter, or the fact of being a rapist himself?

*Fouad's point of view*

When Ghaneya entered the room, the girl I once met up with was least expected. She looked nothing like her father.

I was scared.

I was scared of the consequences.

I could almost hear the beats of my heart outside my actual body.

It was guilt taking over me.

I now understand how her father feels.

Having a daughter at the age of fifteen assaulted that way is such a terrible, terrible feeling.

I forced my mind to think of an excuse, but it just couldn't focus on anything besides the six other depressed girls I met up with in the passed three months.

I almost ran out of pseudonyms.

My business trips usually took place in Qatar.

-

"Talal, would you like some tea?" offered Abdulla.

"Yeah, sure" I bluntly replied, staring at the shoes of Ghaneya.

There were layers of regret covering my heart.

I can be cruel sometimes.

I just have to put a stop to this. A stop to Ghaneya attempting to expose my second face. No matter how much I believe it's wrong, it entertains me in some sort of way, it releases the pressure and stress locked up inside of me.

"Let me just grab some tea bags from the kitchen" replied Abdulla as he left to the kitchen, which was located at the far end of their hall, as seen while entering their home.

It was Ghaneya and I, alone once again.

I thought this would be my time to speak to her.

I just had to do it.

"Ghaneya" I spoke.

She looked hesitant, it took her a while to adapt to my words.

She held her head high, her cheeks as red as that day, and her pink lips glossing like a pink daisy.

I heard footsteps approaching.

I had to say it, calmly, but quickly.

I couldn't believe my words myself.

They were said with nothing else but guilt and insanity.

"Don't tell anyone about what happened the other day, or else, or else-"

I just had to say it, without meaning it, I had to!

"Or else I'll kill you."

Deceived; Chapter 36

*A different point of view*

It's really hard for a father to go through such a painful phase.

Having a daughter sexually assaulted by a male at the age of fifteen hurts more than ever.

I warned her.

I warned her to stay away from strangers, ever since she was a toddler.

I figured she was old enough to make her own decisions.

Business trips.

I hate them. The only reason I do is because it grabs me away from my family. I blame myself for not having a strong relationship with the people I love most.

I get really bored in most of them, especially since all take about three to four weeks.

Actually, as a man of fifty-eight, boredom gets to me all the time.

This situation happened while I was away on one particular trip.

Rania and I never bond, nor communicate.

Although, I still understand her thoughts and emotions.

Girls love because they feel there's no connection between their father and themselves, therefore, they need a man.

I try so hard to please her desires.

Where did I go wrong?

The true story behind this rape charge is still unknown to me.

A friend of mine offered to help me discuss it, and speak of professional lawyers to help us capture this criminal.

I still recall every moment of that day.

And yet, my heart still aches me every time I remember the words of my wife.

I was on a business trip, a quite long one, actually, with my colleagues, happily working.

One afternoon, while my boss and I were having a quick sip of coffee at a nearby café, my mobile rang.

'My beautiful wife' was plastered on the screen.

It was absolutely normal for her to call me, in fact, we speak on the phone everyday for an average of two hours.

With a heart filled with excitement, I clicked on the 'Answer' button.

"Hello, my dearest Zeina"I spoke.

No voice replied, all I could hear were loud breathings.

"Zeina?" I spoke again.

"Talal?" she finally said.

"Zeina! Is everything okay?" I inquired.

"Is there any chance you can return home earlier? Like now?" she asked.

"Why? Why? What happened?!" I replied with a mind filled with confusion.

"I got a call from Shahad, she told me that Rania was sexually assaulted by this boy she barely even knew, please come home immediately! I'm worried, Talal!"

Shahad is my eldest daughter, she's three years older than Rania. My other elder sons are twins, they're off in college.

I didn't bother answering her, but instead, ended the call and stood up from my chair, spoke to my boss, and explained to him.

He insisted I leave the country right away in order to reach Bahrain in time.

I excused myself and was driven by a private driver to the airport.

-

I was told when I reached Bahrain that Shahad found out herself.

Rania's phone was casually sitting on her bed, and while she was admiring the new guest room, in our renovated home, Shahad decided to peek through it, since she wanted answers to her awkward behavior.

I tried to contact some of Rania's friends to find some answers myself.

Non of them actually knew what was going on.

Rania had many friends, however, I tried to investigate among her closest ones.

Abdulla Al-***** was one of my dearest friends in high school with me.

He happens to have a daughter Rania's age, which she never told me about, actually. Non of her friends visited our home.

As I obeyed the directions to Abdulla's residence, I exited my vehicle, rang the doorbell beside the wooden, mahogany door, and was terrified all of a sudden.

I was terrified for one reason.

The reason was unbelievable.

*Ghaneya's point of view*

No words could exit my lips.

After my father explained to me, a few days ago, exactly what happened to poor Rania, I was scandalized.

Extremely shocked.

Her dad is joining my father and I for lunch this afternoon.

They've been friends ever since, but only this situation brought them even closer, because I am her friend.

I was told to greet Rania's father by mine, when I heard the doorbell ring. My father told me to refer him as my uncle. 'Uncle' Talal.

I brushed my messy hair and tied it.

As I was walking slowly down the stairs , I could hear the two mens' conversation.

"Your home is so beautiful! I feel as though I've seen the outside of it. It's very familiar." complemented Uncle Talal.

"That's strange! But you know, many houses are common in looks, here in this neighborhood!" replied my father.

I walked through the hall that lead me to the sitting room with my eyes on the ground, watching my feet move.

However, as I extended my right foot and officially entered the room, my jaw dropped.

The man sitting beside my father looked extremely familiar to me.

He was the man I met up with.

He was the man I loved.

He was Fouad.

Deceived; Chapter 35

"I'm sorry"

"Please forgive me"

"Ghaneya"

"Please answer me!!!"

"How many times do I have to apologize?"

"I'm so sorry!!!"

"Forgive me, PLEASE"

My eyes, frozen on the iPhone screen, were unable to move.

My mind, incapable of thinking about anything else, was set on this particular conversation, providing me with all different types of replies.

My heart, incompetent of forgiving, began to race.

I didn't know what to do.

I wish it was that easy to accept apologies, but it's not.

What Munya did was unbelievable, and I just don't think she deserves my friendship anymore.

Although, sometimes, people learn from their mistakes, and if they're not forgiven, they grieve over them and refuse to move on.

Few minutes later, my incompetent heart transformed to a heart filled with determination.

"I'm willing to forget our past. Don't worry about it." I replied to her.

"Really?! Thank you so much, Ghaneya!!!" she answered instantly.

I was satisfied and happy, however, my mind swiftly laid on Fouad's situation, suddenly.

After that moment, when Hessa showed me the two numbers, I could have sworn I felt as if I was falling off an airplane.

I was completely startled.

But what really confused me was the resemblance between the two numbers, although they were assigned to different names.

Mine was saved as "Fouad".

Hers was saved as "Omar".

We were both deluded and played on by the same person, disguised as another.

No words could describe the hatred I have towards him.

How could I be so stupid, and not realize right from wrong?!

-

"Ghaneya, please come down stairs!" said my father.

"Coming!" I replied skipping down the stairs.

I don't know whether he's still mad at me, I'm too afraid to ask.

I decided to act like nothing's wrong.

"Do you know Rania Al-*****?" he questioned.

I was worried, why would he ask such a question?

"Uh-h.. Yeah..." I answered anxiously.

"Is she your friend? he questioned again.

"Yes" I replied.

I didn't want him to know that my friends and I split up, but I have a feeling, sooner or later, with Munya and I friends again, we'll make up.

"I know her relative, and her father, too, and-"

"What's going on?" I interrupted demanding to know why he's asking about her.

"Did she ever mention to you anything personal?" he continued.

"Like what?" I inquired.

"Was there any man in her life?"

"I don't know, but why are you asking?" the beats of my heart began increasing.

"Ghaneya.. Rania was-"

"O-oh m-my god-d.." I  hesitantly interrupted, "she was r-r-r-"

Deceived; Chapter 34

"Are you joking, Ghaneya?!" my father's eyes were filled with instant shock, "the man raped you!"

-

Ouch.

His words were like a strong slap in the face.

It felt as if a knife was being stabbed into my already broken heart.

I simply ignored, I was too surprised.

A few minutes later, I fell, automatically, on the rough carpet ground, sobbing heavily.

No words came out, just strong, loud moans.

I love Fouad, I really do.

I still don't see how he would play me when he loved me even more than I did.

-

Stares, stares, and even more dirty stares were on me as I was walking down the hallway of my school.

Shame was the only emotion I went through.

Being known as the girl who was deceived is not an accomplishment.

I lost my friends, because they were too embarrassed to be seen with me.

I lost my sister, because of my unbalanced moods.

I lost my father, because I made him realize that I wasn't the same old innocent daughter I was a year ago.

I was lost and lonely, because now I know the reason behind waiting for a phone call from a man that never even loved me.

He got what he wanted, and left, just like the sun deserting the sky at sunset.

I knew God was on my side, considering I regret every second of that day.

When it was lunch time, my heart dropped as I literally found each and everyone's eye on me, while walking through our wide cafeteria, feeling so disgraced attending the same school as I.

My school is filled with close-minded people, which is unfortunate, since they take every surprising news, and turn it into the latest, shocking headlines of Bahrain.

A huge part of me senses that not everyone knows the full story behind this.

They probably jumped to conclusions, just like any ordinary news.

I grabbed bite sized snacks from the food display counter, and walked around the large hall, looking for an empty spot to sit in.

My mind was having a hard time detecting an empty seat, until my eyes laid on the seat beside my old classmate, Hessa.

I still recall the day I overheard her screaming and complaining about a problem she had with someone that ruined her life, too.

I walked up to her, she was sitting with no one, after all.

"Hi Hessa!" I greeted with a grin.

"Hi Ghaneya!" she greeted back, ever so, kind, and I was grateful.

I sat beside her, and began munching on my finger food.

Awkwardness filled the space between us since we haven't started a real conversation ever since, forever!

"Listen, I know with all these stories going around about me-"

"You know, it's fine, I went through something similar, too, don't worry" Hessa interrupted showing full sympathy, "and I know how hard it is to go through such problems."

Thank god, someone understood.

My eyes felt a bit teary, it was frustration, that's all, I was frustrated with life.

I continued eating, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Hessa.

"Who was he, anyway?" she questioned.

I didn't quite know if I could confide in her or not, since I've been played with once, but since she went through the same, I spoke.

"His name was Fouad..." my voice sounded unhappy.

"I can give you advice, do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"We were in love... and after we met up, he was gone, he left me..." I said.

I took out my phone and explained to her every single detail for A to Z.

I showed her the unreal photos he sent me of him, and the number he called me with, while he was in Qatar.

As I was clarifying to her our love, and how we used to stay on the phone all night, she took out her phone and grabbed mine at the same time.

Usually, I would grab my phone back if anyone snatched it away from me, but now, my finger bones didn't have the energy, I was weak.

"Hessa....?" I questioned as I saw her eyes move away from her phone to my phone, repeatedly.

Her jaw dropped.

"U-h-h... Hessa?" I inquired worriedly.

"This number... This number is familiar to me..." she spoke.

I felt my heart racing.

"That guy that deluded me, Ghaneya..."

She stopped for a second staring deeply into my iPhone.

"He called me from this same exact number..."

Deceived; Chapter 33

I was exhilarated! Thank God!

I began banging on the bathroom door to notify my father.

"COME ON! I NEED TO TELL YOU IMPORTANT NEWS!"

"What's all the fuss about, Ghaneya?!" my father replied exiting the bathroom quickly due to my noise.

"The doctor just called you and I picked up" I stopped and gave a silent pause, "she said I'm not diagnosed with any disease!"

"That's good, Ghaneya, now go back to your room." he bluntly replied.

"Aren't you happy?" I asked, trying to receive an answer out of his coldness.

"Of course I am, but that still doesn't make me any less angry with you, Ghaneya. You went behind my back, with a man I haven't even met, claiming he's around your age, when he's actually much older!" he spoke loudly, "and the fact that you actually WENT for it. Now that's just unacceptable, Ghaneya."

His voice caused an echo to fill our home. His room door was open.

"You have betrayed me! And most importantly, you betrayed your religion and forgot about what really matters!" he continued, his voice began to appear more angry.

I ran out without a second thought, to my room, in fear, scared I would receive a second slap.

This Fouad issue has become a situation I no longer can manipulate with.

-

"Ghaneya, please tell me how you feel about this position you are in." inquired the therapist.

"Depressed, angry, sad" I replied.

"Do you miss that particular day?" she asked.

"Not the day, really, but I miss him." I admitted.

My father was sitting on a chair at the far end of the office, just staring at me answer all these questions in worry.

"Do you love this man?" she questioned.

"Y-y-e-s-s" I mumbled.

"Does he know any location of yours?"

"U-h-h.. y-y-e-s-s" I mumbled again.

My father looked startled.

"Has he ever been in your home?"

"N-n-o" I answered.

"Has he ever seen your home?|

I remained quiet.

"Ghaneya, dear, you need to answer all these questions." she declared.

"Yes" I replied.

"When?" she inquired again, "how?"

"On that day, he dropped me home." I answered staring at the tiled floor.

I felt footsteps approaching me. It was my father.

"Where did you two come from?"

I felt both my father's and the therapist's eyes on me.

"Ghaneya.." his voice grew in more concern, "where were you two?"

"A-a-a h-h-o-t-t-e-l-l" I muttered quietly 5 seconds later.

"A what?!" he asked again, not being able to hear my answer.

"Now, now, Mr. *****, she must remain calm" the therapist said.

"A-a-a h-h-o-t-t-e-l-l" I hesitated even more, but louder, this time, in order for the two to hear the answer to their question.

As I lifted my head, full of shame, my father's mouth fell wide open.

He was shocked.

He was speechless.

He was furious.

"Let's move on, which hotel was it, Ghaneya?" the therapist continued, asking me.

"The new one, beside *****" I replied.

"Did you two stay in a room? Or-"

"Yes," I interrupted.

"Was it a suite, or just a regular, standard room?"

"It was a suite." I said.

"I have a few more questions to ask you, and then our session's over," stated the therapist, "do you recall how this man looked like?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Would you mind clarifying, dear?" she asked.

"He was tall, a bit fat, his face was wrinkly, he was hazel eyed, had dark black hair, with strands of white ones, and a mustache." I truthfully answered.

"And how old does this man appear?" she questioned worriedly.

"About 50 to 55 years old..." I quickly answered her question, terrified of my father's response.

As soon as few words wanted to swim out of the therapist's mouth, my father stood right in front of my eyes, and spoke with a furious tone.

"Ghaneya! Can't you tell?! Fouad is obviously playing you!" 

Tears, tears, and more tears filled my pale face.

I don't think he was playing me, he loved me, really, and still does!

"I bet he doesn't even love you!" he screamed louder in disgust.

"B-b-u-t-t, h-e, h-e d-o-e-s!" I murmured.

"Are you joking, Ghaneya?!" my father's eyes were filled with instant shock, "the man raped you!"