Monday, August 20, 2012

Deceived; Chapter 19

Please read:

As you can see, tomorrow is the first day of the last 10 days of Ramadhan. I prefer not to post since I would much rather use my time wisely. Ramadhan only comes once a year. Which means you only have one opportunity to fix everything including your sins. I will continue posting once Ramadhan is over.

You may have not seen anything interesting yet in my chapters nowadays. The reason why is because I'm saving everything for later. I am working my hardest to make this story a long one, unlike my first blog.

I would like to repeat that this story is fiction. The tiniest scenes are true. Nothing is based on anyone.

Tell me what you think of this story by asking me on http://Ask.fm/TheBHRWriter & DMing me on my twitter account: @TheBHRWriter

& again, no personal questions such as my school, age, name, family name, living or current location will be answered. I want to keep my identity anonymous, without anyone knowing who I am exactly. I want to be known as a good blogger, and not be criticized by me. 

Enjoy this chapter. :D 

-

We made our way through her big, brown gate. The security ushered us to go straight through her beautiful green garden filled with all types of trees and flowers. We exited the car and walked through her door entrance. Her house was filled with balloons. The floor was made of marble. Frames and paintings filled the house showing off their extremely spiral stairwell.

Jana saw us and walked towards us with her mini dress and face filled with makeup.

"Hey girls!" she greeted.

"Hey!" we all replied.

"Ghaneya, your brother didn't come?" she said looking around for Fahad in between the other boys she invited.

"He couldn't make it. He apologizes." I said.

Her face expressions changed all of a sudden.
It was as if she wouldn't expect us to come at all without Fahad.

"Well, enjoy the party then." she added a fake smile on her face and walked off.

It was typical. Most of the girls were either dancing, gossiping, laughing, eating, or making out with a guy. It crazy what 15 year old girls do nowadays.

The five of us just stood there, danced a bit, and then returned back home.

-

I was exhausted. I arrived back home, and went to check with my dad. He probably knew that I gave back the bikini. He also probably forgot about our little fight.

I placed my clutch on the sitting room couch and walked into my father's office. He was so concentrated and looked even more exhausted than me. I knocked on the door, and as he looked up to me, he spoke.

"Hi Ghaneya, how was the party?"

"Pretty good.." I said in tiredly.

"Oh okay, will you sleep now?" he asked looking through a huge pile of white A4 paper.

"I'll try, I'm exhausted. You know, her party was mixed." I assured him.

"That's good honey, now go to bed." he told me without even caring. He hadn't looked up after he saw me enter his office.

I climbed up the staircase and entered my room, grabbed some shorts and a t-shirt from my closet and changed. I removed my light makeup and placed my head on my soft, cushion-like pillow.

I felt low for some reason.

I felt like I had no one other than Fouad. He was always with me. My brother would always stay with his friends, while the girls I'm with keep on talking about uninteresting topics. On the other hand, Fouad made everything about me. It seemed like his world revolved around me. My world did. Those are one of the main reasons why I was madly in love with him.

"You're the only one who understands me, Fouad." I wrote to him.

"I feel the same way, Ghaneya." he replied.

"Wish you lived in Bahrain." I said.

"Same here." he wrote, "wish I could see you right now, hug you, tickle you, kiss you. Would you want that?"

"Yes. Yes I would :(" I said back with a sigh on my face.

"Hey did you fix your camera yet? Skype!" I added, making sure when I would be able to Skype him using the house computer without anyone knowing.

"Not yet D: soon <3" he answered.

Fouad, frankly, is the most genuine person I've met in this life. He's smart, funny, encouraging, and he thinks I'm beautiful.

No comments:

Post a Comment