Hell Again

by Mihret Adal Gidi

  “It’s not like we have to go in.” It’s great to have her for a best, best friend but she can sometimes be too worried.

  “And it’s not like he’ll be waiting for me in the house,” I smile, “he might be standing out the front gate, walking from left to right, all worked up and everything, you know. I’m late, anyway,” I smile, looking to a taxi that’s parked in front of my car I just parked. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take that taxi,” I smile to her pointing to the blue and white cab parked before my car.

  “Night girls!” I greet myself off loud and kiss her on her cheeks. “Have fun,” I utter playfully and run to the cab and jump in. I just don’t want to hear anything coming from her stressed lips. “I love you!”

  I pull my body out the window and wave her good night as she stands still, gazing at me in worry and I sit back with my phone in my hands. “Please, drive me to Asko,” I order the driver, and nodding, he starts the engine and steps on the gas, accelerating our way forwards.

  It can’t be. I eye the driver in disappointment through the rear-view mirror. He just keeps struggling with his car, he looks disappointed and I can understand why, but I am also disappointed that he isn’t saying anything about it to me.

  “I can’t believe this,” I utter loudly in exasperation. His car engine suddenly dies twenty minutes away from home.

  “I… Am… Sorry, Miss.” He turns to me with a ‘sorry’ gaze as he utters sadly, but with an accent. I shake my head exasperatedly, rolling my eyes.

  “I can tell you’re having trouble with your car,” I press a smile, “it’s okay; you just should have said it.” I smile, patting him on his shoulder and he nods thankfully staring at me.

  “I am. So sorry.” He adds once again in so much politeness, pressing on his chest with his left hand and looking at me to the back seat. His accent is so dry; each word well stepped on, clearly spelled. “I get taxi… lela,” he says, and I smile.

  I know what ‘lela’ stands for; ‘another’, and it’s not like I am afraid of the dark nor that twenty minutes’ walk would mean harm to me, that I would wait for another taxi. I’m late as it is and to wait would waste valuable times, I wonder.

  “No need, it’s not far from here, anyway. Thanks.” I smile, “ezinew,” I smile, trying to speak my native language that I am not that good at, secretly exasperated, but I put on a fake smile as I open the door.

  “I walk,” he gets to his door. I think he wants to walk me, and I don’t really want that.

  “Oh, no. No need, thanks,” I smile, shaking my head in denial to his generous offer.

  “Walk this time, alone, no good for young girl,” I gasp for his good thoughts and presses a smile.

  “I’m okay, thanks. Home is nearby,” I explain myself as I point ahead with my right hand and he smiles nodding as I left his car pressing my lips. I can tell how sorry he feels, but somethings are out of our control.

  “Good God,” I gasp, smiling refreshed as the night wind brushes me. This is exactly what I want, and I guess after all things happen for a reason. I proceed on my steps slowly, enjoying the refreshing touch of wind on my body, wrapping myself in my shawl that is no good in protecting me from the wind that’s gushing on my skin.

  ***

  Adah realises that she is a little tipsy from the wine glass she had with her friends. Though she decided to stick to her father’s wish, she really desired to stay behind and enjoy the night. It’s almost midnight now. She is not enjoying the little freedom she is experiencing. It would have been great if her mother were here already; she would have the world’s freedom as she wishes.

  After taking steps, she feels a discomfort in her golden stiletto; she can’t walk further in them that she feels pain on her hill and toe.

  “Damn this pairs.” She bites her lower lip and walks to a wall and leans back to find comfort while standing. Bending down, she tries to unfasten the straps to her pairs so she can proceed barefoot back home. It’s not about comfortability alone, but if something is to go south, then she can run.

  It doesn’t take that long, as she tries to take her left shoe off, she hears roughly gushing air blowing, and rushed footsteps follow it. She flicks stand straight and looks at what’s before her; two trucks parked by the main road, in fair distance from one another. Nothing at all. She turns to her right and sees that there is nothing and no soul except her. She then turns to her left, to the road that she has to take to get home; there’s nothing, except it seems darker.

  Closing her eye, she licks her lower lip to calm herself down. She’s suddenly realising how alone and vulnerable she is; the full moon on the sky isn’t as beautiful as she usually is; the cerulean blue light coming from her creates chilling feeling, forming images on the ground as it makes it ways through the tree’s brunches and through the leaves.

  Swallowing nothing, she presses her lips as her eyes descry, jumping to one end from the other, checking her surroundings. There really is nothing. Shaking her head, she clears her thoughts and exhales long; and she bends down once again to get her shoes, but she hears another footstep but this one seems to approach her direction that she speeds stand straight, looking ahead of her, in shock, gasping with her lips getting drier.

  “Hello!” she looks around, frightened. She turns to every direction frantically, only gazing back to the darkness. In fear, she realises that the wind is touching her all over, as if it’s incarnated.

  “Damn you, Tarik and Mary,” She smiles, placing her right hand on her chest breathing in relief, maybe, in ways, denying her fear. “You got me tangled in paranoia.” Shaking her head, she proceeds on her steps. She doesn’t want to rule it paranoia until she is sure, some part of her is starting to believe the bad luck is catching on her, especially ever since the car broke and she decided to take a walk.

  She is scared to walk to the gloom before her, but she should get home. Suddenly, she ceases on her hesitant steps and arches her forehead to the person walking towards her. The figure comes out of nowhere, walking calmed. She doesn’t know whether to be shocked or not, it’s too early to decide, she’s not really sure of its existence in the first place, it’s a little blurry at first. Shaking her head, she scrubs her nose and then brushes her eyes with her right hand to get a clearer look at this figure approaching towards her, but her hands grips on her bag so tightly.

  “Need some help?”

  Finally, a man speaks in stern voice, standing close to her and she looks down to her wristlet bag in her left hand as her right lets go slowly. “Are you okay?” he smiles, gazing at her with his eyes narrowed but it creates a slight sombrely impression in her and yet still with irrefutable impressiveness.

  “Wow,” she whispers, spreading a deep smile on her heart-shaped lips as she faces him finally. She was ready to attack; hit him with her bag if she finds him someone with bad intention, until she has clearer look at his handsomely cut face. “Um,” she presses her lips and elevates her angled eyebrows. Insubordinately, her almond nut-brown eyes dance, glowing, meeting his cobalt-coloured deep-set eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says to her attack mode, looking down to herself, letting her guard down. It’s his look, or vibe, or his smile…she couldn’t tell, but something is overpowering about his presence and she can’t resist it.

  “No, I’m sorry. I mean,” he places his left hand on his chest, bending down as he apologises. “I’m the one who crossed your path suddenly,” he stands straight, spreading slight brush of smile as he looks back at her, “I guess.” He deepens his smile.

  “Um, that…” She waves her index finger, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, you’re right.” She shakes her head to keep her mind straight. How is it possible that someone would be this handsome? she wonders, biting her lower lip slightly. She is feeling a bit uneasy.

  “It’s not usual for young and beautiful girl to be alone at this time of hour,” he says, looking around, and she waves from left to right. She knows she is about to get married the day after, but she has never felt her blood r
ushing for a man in her life.

  “I was out with my friends,” she bites her lower lip partially as she thinks. “You? No one says it’s safe for a man either, besides, you seem a stranger to this land.” She breathes laughter and smiles.

  “I’m here for a visit and now, maybe, not willing to go back home alone.” His Londoner English is mighty clear to her ears. He is so handsome and brighter, even in the darkness. She is feeling uneasy gazing back at him. She is exposed to a joy brushed with fear and she have no idea how to act but to blush.

  “That sounds great.” She swallows air hard.

  He is dressed in different time. His white Indian-styled coat seems to add grace to his broad shoulders. He is so tall, and his trouser looks exquisite with the perfect ironing line, hanging from his hip. His slipper pair shine as if he is not walking on the sandy road she is on. He looks too perfect, too clean and his odour fills the entire surrounding in great olfaction. The berry blue palla on his left shoulder, hanging down all the way to his hip, plays great role to his bold difference in time. He is well groomed, probably to an extreme point that it feels like he’s out this world. His immaculate skin is well structured, with perfectly lined flat eyebrows matching his Lucifer black silky hair with straight nose and defined prominent lip, which borders with an enchanting bright smile. He is unsullied and too good to this world even to be real.

  “Born here and raised elsewhere?” he asks her, narrowing those magical eyes at her.

  “Can you tell?” she answers it with a question, and he nods, pressing his lips. “You can say that,” She smiles for his nod for a response. “So, you find that someone or not yet?” she is getting too comfortable and it’s not really like her. Pulling down her black A-line dress, she tries to cover her exposed beautiful thigh with little effort.

  “That depends on her response,” he deepens his smile. As she feels the wind a bit stronger on her arms, she wraps her arms round herself.

  “Sounds like you have found who you’re looking for,” she expels air with a smile.

  “If she answers my question right, I shall take her, and if not, then I shall leave her,” the way his eyes play with hers is making her feel that he is talking about her. “It’s all her choice. After all, I crossed her path.”

  “Question?” she whispers, feeling timid.

  “May I ask?” he seems a bit excited, his eyes narrowed at her and she nods. “What are you doing back to your homeland?” he asks as he conscientiously observes her from her head to toe.

  “I…” she swallows hard. Is he actually talking about me? she wonders. “I,” she bites her upper lip, thinking as she tucks her hair behind her ears. She can’t believe that she is thinking about lying. Oh! Dad, you are gonna die over this. She giggles in her thought, but presses a genuine smile for him as she sucks her lips in.

  “You don’t know yet…perhaps?” She is not sure if he is asking her or helping her to answer in a way.

  “More like, I’m suddenly not sure,” she breathes her response in a laughing mood, tilting a little to the right. “No, not sure yet,” she broadens her smile and he pays back equivalently. “I don’t know, maybe sudden second thoughts,” she adds, flustered. Something is wrong; this is unlike her.

  “What a wreath,” he smiles, gazing at her, lost. “Such garland of coronet for a prince to wear,” he looks up to the sky as he utters in indulgence. He looks down to her with his smile fixed on his lips. “It’s getting bit taters,” he takes his palla off and puts it around her shoulder from her back to her front, wrapping her in warmness.

  As his body hit gets in contact with her skin through the palla he was wearing, she gasps air in, closing her eyes. Like a thaumaturgy, it starts playing its role, casting a cantrip on her. Opening her eyes, she meets him in his gaze and runs out of words. She has never been summoned to this kind of challenge before. She can’t tell whether if it’s his look or his politeness that’s ceasing her. She was known to be a fighter, but she falls today, and she falls for a strange man she just met, and for the first time in her life.

  “Let me walk you, please.” Standing aside, he gives her his left arm, and nodding ghostly, she locks him in her right arm, in liss. She feels a bit of shivering as her skin meets his silk and soft clothing. His height dominates her presence with his well-structured body and in grace.

  “I should tell you something,” she whispers loudly as they take a step further.

  “Go on,” he smiles, looking to the direction they’re heading to and she looks up to him and smiles as she tucks a string of her hair behind her left ear. “Not ready?” he questions her. It’s like he doesn’t want to hear it anyway.

  “A little shaky; about everything,” she bites her lower lip in embarrassment. “Maybe this is an omen or something.”

  “The sudden second thoughts,” he broadens his smile on his lips and looks down at her, ceasing their steps. She nods, standing, facing him as she looks up to him. “I can tell there’s a ‘he’,” she looks down to the ground, but he makes it easy for her. “Is he that important?” A ghostly smile brushes his lips and she faces him, gasping.

  “I…” she whispers. licking her lips wet. “So unlike me,” she exhales long. Am I an open book? How can he tell about me when we just meet? she wonders to herself.

  “Could it be me?” He places his left hand on his chest, elevating his brows questioningly. “Should I leave?”

  Why are we on this subject? she wonders, biting her upper lip. Are we not complete strangers?

  “Yes,” the word escapes her lips “I mean,” she licks her lower lip and bites it hard. “I mean, don’t leave but it is you…I think,” in a ghost-like existence, he frowns, smiling, surprised. “It’s not bad that I see you now. Maybe meeting you might be an omen for me that this is not meant to be in the first place,” she shrugs, pressing her lips down.

  “Maybe it is, but how would you know?” His gaze deepens from the usual as his eyes narrows at her. He really is surprised and amused by her.

  “I don’t…”

  “Come with me?” He spreads his right hand for her and she frowns. This is a surprise for him as well, but he is enjoying it.

  “What do you mean?” she shrugs perplexed. “I mean where to?” This is not an invitation she expects from a strange man, though she wants to follow him.

  “Stay still,” he whispers, stern as he approaches her too close and bends down to her. Her lips get dry and suddenly she loses the little vigour in her, but she pulls herself a little away from him. “Allow me to kiss you,” he whispers, and she freezes as her eyes closes shut.

  His slow moves are too tempting and irresistible to handle. How is it possible that a person can play potent dwimmer on another? His nose touches her slowly on hers and she slightly parts her lips, breathy. Before she knows it, his lips claim hers and she tilt back as his right hand holds the nape of her neck, pressing her to him as if he is consuming his favourite food. His left hand holds her on her hips, imprisoning her, so she relents to his spell, powerless but in comfort. She allows his tongue to run its survey to the provoking strange feeling she’s not acquainted to.

  For a moment, she forgets everything. This must be magic, or she isn’t herself. She yields to his touch and just like that. She can’t believe it, but she allows it to be. Giving her a momentary break, he stares down at her. She slowly opens her eyes and smiles mildly.

  “I have never kissed anyone so beautiful,” he whispers, and she inhales heavy; loading her chest up with air and then exhales long as she relaxes back.

  Once again, he offers her his left arm and she takes it. Her heart, her heart never beats this fast for a man but seems like it surrenders for one now. She follows him to wherever he desires, no question asked, and no answer needed. He walks her to an abnormally big leaf that floats. She slightly frowns and looks back to him questioningly. Deepening his smile, he waves his right hand to it, pointing at her to sit on it. She giggles breathy, and though, she thinks it’s unbelievable,
she takes steps forward and sits on it, fully trusting him on his offer.

  It really is a surprise for her that it’s comfortable. She pulls herself up to the centre and he follows her on it. Kneeling before her, he gazes at her, smiling as she smiles back in embarrassment. He loves her every reaction, and to his surprise, he unconditionally is enjoying running into her. This was never his plan, but he is loving it.

  “Who are you, dream or Alibaba?” She utters calmly, still struggling to see him in his eyes. She doesn’t know how she will tell her friends about who she met and how he gives her a ride home or wherever they are heading to.

  “Allow me to be whoever you wish, for tonight and the next and the next after the next.” He gets closer to her and devours her lips once again and she feels alienated towards her self-restraint she was always good at; she simply yields to the feeling. Perhaps he is that someone for her, someone who she thinks deserves her.

  She closes her eyes, rejoicing his touch on her body. He tenderly caresses her feet, and grabbing her gently by her ankle, he pulls her down, beneath him. She lay down against her back and he stays, kneeling between her knees. She is in fear but something in her is defying her fears, in a way she can’t tell; excitement and ardour, a strange pull of need in her belly, something uneasy in her, butterflies, yes, maybe that and more in her. She’s running out of words and though she wants to stop him, her body is refusing to stand with her on that. He slowly gets to the palla on her shoulders and spreads it sideways, exposing her beneath him.

  She looks beautiful, looking up to him in fear as she breathes heavily. She smiles but he can see her fear in her eyes. With ghost like existing smile on his lips, he lays on top of her powerless body and proceeds on his dwimmer, with his lips consuming on her soul. Slowly kissing her on her neck and slightly biting her chin, his right hand starts pushing her dress up her thigh, slowly all the way up to her belly and she holds his hand and stops him. He looks into her eyes, with quizzical gaze. She shakes her head, breathlessly gasping and he smiles.