Chapter One

 

“I cannot tell you!”

“Hmm”, she leaned back on her leather throne and took her clipboard of her desk and onto her knee. “You know Mr. Saab, secrets are like money! You must keep it, money or secrets, safe in trustworthy safe hands!”
“Your point?” I said solemnly.
“Well, money is stored in a bank, whereas secrets, well, you can open up to me.”

I stared at her with the same blank expression I wore the whole session.
She took a deep breath and continued “As a guidance councilor and a trained psychologist, I am bound by confidentiality terms, so…”
“I know that! What I don’t get is why I have to tell you my secrets.”
“Because as soon as you open up, I will help you with your problems.” She let out a short breathed giggle. Was I willing to discuss my personal life with a woman I have never met before? Obviously not. Councilor or not, she is directly connected to the school administration, anything I say will become known. When the school knows, students will know. Many children have family or relatives that work at my school. My uncle works at my school, he knows and monitors everything I do. If he gets his nose into this, things will get ugly.
But she remained persistent, she wouldn’t give up!
” Do you talk with your family?” she asked looking at me through her glasses. “Do you share your thoughts with them? Is there communication?”
” Yes, of coarse, I talk with them a lot!” I said that, and believed it. “Listen, I appreciate your efforts, but I seriously do not have…”
“Youssef! What happened today was not your normal behavior! You are one of our top students, teachers adore you, and your classmates think highly of you! I have heard your name several times before, it is attributed to poise and excellent behavior! Something is up!” she rambled rapidly out of frustration.
“With all due respect, this is a personal matter, I will share what I think is relevant when I feel comfortable saying it”, I muttered looking at the ground.
“Fine, but this is not over. I will see you on Tuesday. Now off to class and let your friend come in!”

I left the office as fast as I can. As I closed the door behind me, I turned around and saw him. His eyes pierced my soul instantly and my stomach turned. I clenched my fists, looked him straight in the eye, and said “You can go in now.” I then rushed down the hall not looking behind me, worried his smug expression would make me lose my temper again.

I went back to class. We had an English session,which meant I could sit and clear my head. I walked in and everyone stopped and looked at me. They weren’t looks of admiration, nor looks of judgment, they were more like looks of confusion and bafflement. My English teacher jumped and shrieked “Ah! Youssef, come in. We are correcting the quiz”, she put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle push towards my seat, “To your seat please, quickly!” No one said anything and I was thankful. I cleared my desk and placed my English notebook on it. I hadn’t done as well as I was used to on that quiz so I had to pay attention. Next period we would have a math quiz and after that we would go home. Consequently, my mind remained a stage for the battle between myself and I for the rest of the day, and my eyes throbbed from the pain of the suppressed tears.

I didn’t talk to anyone after class was over, and my friends knew it wise not to talk to me. I needed time to diffuse the fireworks, and after that my incapacity to talk without exploding would be tamed. I headed straight to the gate where I waited for a short while for my mom to arrive. In the car I feigned a headache, trying as hard as possible to avoid conversation and hide my bruises. The car ride home couldn’t have been longer. Music did not make me feel better. No matter how long Adele held the note; no matter how good Lorde’s lyrics were; not even they could ease pain of the punch I took to the head. Then, we got home, and I couldn’t wait to get to my bed. After a rather disappointing bean stew, I excused myself and went to my room, that I shared with my sister. I told her that I was really sick and would appreciate it if she would’t disturb me.

Finally, I laid down on my bed. And now to let go.

His fist flung slowly my way. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Then I felt it. A forceful blow. A jab in my heart. Blood. His knuckles. My nose. I clutched the blanket on my bed as I remembered. But that wasn’t all. I was thrown out of balance and my vision was blurred. I remembered his arms that wrapped around my shoulders, but only to hold me still as he heaved his knee into my abdomen. How I detest that odious chuckle! What have I done? Do I deserve to be humiliated and cursed while lying bloody on a filthy bathroom floor? I lay there on the floor of the boys’ lavatory thinking after they left. Soon after that the high-pitch scream of the spiteful supervisor came resonating into the bathroom.

All that was coming back to me as my eyes filled with salty tears. The tear stain on my pillow was getting bigger with every frame of that painful memory. The whole incident got me thinking, bad thoughts, of regret, sorrow, and worst of all, the once happy memories made into terrors by the horrible exploit. “Did I share too much? did I trust the wrong people? Was I impatient? Am I branding myself when it’s too early to?”

I needed a reality check. I needed to right the wrong.