“Why did you hail a rickshaw?” I mumble faintly, my head bumping against the side, with each speed breaker and pothole we encounter. 

“Ordering a cab would leave a record. Besides, we didn't take the first one. Safety is the priority,” he says, referring to the rickshaw, we had refused to board because the driver was too insistent and it made Zayden suspicious. 

I think it was just because of our country's economic conditions, maybe he was just short on bread or needed money for something important. I couldn't give him any cash because I am not sure how long I will be away from home or when I will go back, so I can't risk even a couple of hundred. And I just don't want to argue, I am tired. 

“Where are we going?”

“To the place we are going to stay temporarily.”

Temporarily? Is this how gipsies live?

I wish I could just find myself a coffin and sleep in it for fifty years like a vampire.

Then everyone would either be dead or dying, when I return. More pain, more sorrow. Not to mention, this country would be in shambles by then. But would it collapse? Never. It would keep thriving, just never for the better. Always sucking on this city like a leech.

“How are your wounds?” Zayden intercepts my thoughts.

“Fine,” I reply, eyeing the greenbelt and feeling the wind.

"The cross stopped bleeding, it wasn't deep. The bump on your head has swollen a bit but you said it didn't hurt too much. Getting it checked by a doctor should be vital but currently we can't afford that. First Aid will have to do."

“Hmm…” I stare at the large cumulus clouds in the blue sky, eclipsing the sun. There is something strangely soothing about them. 

I wonder. I wonder what Jas was upto. 

He was very interested in my academic and professional approaches, as of the last couple of years. I had chosen political science, economics and history as my optional subjects, and even though no one was surprised as I was almost destined to choose them, Jasser was unusually happy about it. He had been pestering me about the specific field I wanted to go into as a career, but I had repeatedly told him that I didn't know, I was unsure. He had always told me that it was alright and I would figure it out, just like he had. 

But what had he figured out?

Only Zayden can answer that. Mike and Rad knew what Jasser was doing but it seems like he had the same intentions as Zayden. He was never going to turn back, but he wanted someone to take care of me, because somehow he knew what I would choose in the end.

Did he not let Zayden join him because he didn't want Zayden to be in the same mess as him or was it because of me? He knew. He knew sooner or later, I would want to follow in his footsteps. But did he? Did he think he knew or did he actually know?

If he really stopped Zayden from joining in because of me, then he must have been sure that the three of us are drawn to the same path. Towards something similar between all three of us. 

Surely...surely it has to do with politics and activism? What else could it be? But then, what was his aim? And who was he...working for?

I have to talk to Zayden about it.

But what if I don't pursue it? Can I escape it? Can I just hole up? And if so, then what is the purpose of my life? What am I supposed to do with this wretched life? If only Jasser hadn't died…

To think, he was alive yesterday at this time. 

I glance at Zayden. He is looking at me.

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Fine. Here.” he produces a sticky note. I avert my gaze. 

I am sick of notes and pieces of paper now. 

“What's wrong?” 

I peek at it.

‘Abrak Cemal. #117/B-22/T3-PECHS’

It's Dad's writing. I sit up straighter, facing him directly.

"You said you won't let Dad in on anything! You lied," I say loudly, trying to shake off the dazed state of my mind.

"Don't yell. I did nothing. Your Dad told me we could lie low at this friend’s house of his, if you still disagreed and managed to leave."

I glare at him, not daring to mouth the words brewing in my head.

“Look, this is the reason I told you we will only stay here temporarily. Once we find another place, we will move out. It will take just a few days.”

“And in the meantime, we will be endangering more lives.” I hiss and look away. 

My eyes meet a child's who is sitting behind his Dad on a bike and he turns his face to the other side, gripping his father's shirt hard. The man turns to glance at me inquiringly, then angrily frowns at me, deeming me the culprit of his son's reaction.

I chuckle sadly, shifting my gaze to the moving road.

"You are too sensitive. I used to think that about Jasser but you are way worse."

I turn to him but don't say anything. I don't know what to say.

“Tone it down, it will just get harder to live if you feel everything with such intensity."

"Just put me to sleep, then." I look away once more, rubbing my eyes with the back of my right hand. 

Yesterday it was ‘You are too stiff.’ And today it's ‘You are too soft.’

Zayden sighs and we don't talk again. 

We get off a street away from the house and I follow Zayden, wordlessly. It's a three floor apartment, Abrak Cemal lives on the ground floor. 

Zayden knocks and the door is opened by a man in his early sixties, in a few seconds. He looks kind yet strict. 

Zayden greets him and then asks him,“Sir, are you Mr Abrak Cemal?”

“Why, that I am.” he says, adjusting his glasses.

“We were directed here by Mr Nahian.”

“Oh yes, yes. Well, come along inside.” he smiles in response to Zayden. 

He leads us to his living room, while I seize up the rooms that the flat could possibly possess. It seems like there are three bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room leading to a lounge. 

“Are you Nahian's kids?”

“Lezim is, I am his bodyguard.”

“Oh really, he does resemble Nahian a bit. You yourself, are a pleasant gentleman. I haven't seen his kids for quite some years. You might not even remember me, young Lezim. I believe you were around five years old, the last time we met.”

Zayden thanks him, while I nod and continue looking around. 

I sit down on the sofa beside Zayden that Mr Abrak ushers us to. 

I answer a few of his questions and break the news of Jasser’s death to him, which upsets him and earns me a scowl from Zayden. I shrug at him subtly.

Isn't that the main reason we are here, anyways?

Mr Abrak asks us why he wasn’t informed about the death and Zayden tells him, it's because Jasser might have been murdered and Dad doesn't want people knowing about it or get involved, in case it affects the investigation. 

Mr Abrak nods at that. 

“I understand.”

“We were afraid about Lezim's safety due to some disconcerting circumstances and so Mr Nahian suggested he should live here for a while.”

“Yes, he did contact me about it. You can stay of course. Originally, we had two spare rooms but my daughter just returned from her home today, so you will have to squeeze in one. We will set up two mattresses there.”

Zayden glances at me uneasily at that.

I nod to Mr Abrak. “It's okay.”

I don't understand what view Zayden holds me in, but with time I am getting certain that it includes the ‘rich, spoilt, psycho brat’ image. 

Mr Abrak calls his wife Lumina and their daughter Lina over. Lina is around her mid twenties. He introduces us and they traditionally ask us for lunch and tea as a sort of welcome, which I decline but Zayden accepts, politely. 

I excuse myself and pick up my bag, walking to the room they have provided us. There is a mattress in one corner, without any sheets, a table in another with a cupboard and a chair. I switch on the fan, draw the curtains, making the room dark and airy. Then I throw my bag on the table, take out the largest hoodie I own and wrapping it around my shoulders, dive faceforward on the mattress, ready to drown myself in my guaranteedly disturbing dreams, when a knock resounds on the door. 

I pretend to sleep. 

"You could use some sheets, pillows and a blanket." a voice I recognise as Lina's says.

I sit up and look at her. She seems kind of down, as she gives me the things. I wonder what trouble she is in. Maybe she has some family problems.

“I am sorry about your brother's loss. I can see you loved him a lot. If I can assist in any way, let me know.”

“Do you have a laptop?” I ask, since a phone is too personal.

“Dad has one, I will bring it to you.”

"And earbuds or headphones?"

“You can use mine.” she says, and fetches me a laptop and a pair of earbuds.

“Thank you.” I say.

“It’s alright. Just come out for tea, when you are ready." 

I nod, then set to work. Five minutes later, I am tucked inside the blanket, still on my face, listening to music. I close my eyes, and just focus on breathing. 

I switch from Taylor’s Champagne Problems to Conan’s Checkmate to Affluenza  and I have lost myself in the music. Memories by Maroon 5. Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish. Somebody Like You by Adele. Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine. Fix You by Coldplay.

How funny...

I fall asleep.