CHAPTER 16

"She's, my sister. Her name is Haram. It's 1st January 2016."

these words kept ringing in my ears. I tried to open my eyes

and when I did, I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head.

"The patient has gained consciousness." someone yelled. I

flinched at the loud voice.

"Keep it down." I muttered to myself.

"Fatima. Fatima." I heard certain voices call out to me. Voices

that sounded so familiar yet I couldn't recognize them. Then a

woman in a grey Abaya and Hijab came in front of me. She

clutched my arms. She looked very familiar. Her eyes were

dark brown filled with warmth? Her face's shape was really

perfect and she had an olive skin tone. Her nose was sharp but

I felt as if it was missing something. She held my arms and

looked at me worriedly.

"You wear a nose ring, right?" was the first thing that came

out of mouth.

"What?" she frowned.

"Yeah. You wear a nose ring occasionally, right?"

"Fatima, what are you saying?"

"Can I tell you something? The nose ring doesn't suit you."

"What are you saying?" she cried out.

"Are you deaf?" I looked at her confusedly.

"Is she deaf?" I turned to the other person in the room. The

doctor.

"No, she is your mother." he smiled at me.

"Mother?" I turned to her.

That is why she looked so familiar.

"Hi." I smiled at her. She ignored me and turned to the doctor.

"Did she lose her memory, doctor?"

"A person may lose their memory for less than 24 hours. This

is a symptom of a concussion. However, if she doesn't regain

her memory even after 24 hours this may be a severe

traumatic brain injury."

"A concussion is mild traumatic brain injury that temporally

affects the brain functioning" I repeated the words that came

in my mind as soon as I heard the word concussion.

"This might be a temporary and mild memory loss." the

doctor assured my mother.

"What's your name?" the doctor smiled at me.

"My name is Haram. And, you are?" I extended my hand to

him.

My mother immediately pulled my hand back. I frowned at

her.

"What are you saying? Your name is Fatima. And, we don't

shake hands with men." she looked at me incredulously.

I stared at her for a minute.

"Are you always this rude?" I blurted out.

"What are you saying? You're the one who follows it. The

rulings of or religion. You don't shake hands with men. You

never did. What's wrong with you, Fatima?" she looked

shocked and really worried.

"It's Haram. My name. It's Haram." I smiled at her.

"No, your name is Fatima." she argued.

"But I like the name Haram." I frowned. The ache at the back

of my head increasing slightly.

"But, your..."

"Mrs. Jabeen." the doctor intervened and gave her a polite

smile.

"Let me."

My mother nodded.

"Do you remember what date it is today?" the doctor smiled at

me.

"Yeah. It's 1st January 2016."

"What?" my mother shrieked. I flinched.

"Are you always this loud? Keep it down. This is a hospital." I

clutched my head.

"Miss Fatima."

"It's Haram." I warned him.

"Alright, miss Haram. How are you feeling?"

"My head. The back of my head. Ahhhh" I cried with pain and

closed my eyes.

"Mummy." I whispered involuntarily.

"Yes, that's me. That's me." she clutched my arm again.

"Do you remember how this incident happened? Your head

injury?" he pointed to the back of my head.

I thought hard.

"I was at the park with her and she pushed me off the swing."

These words rang in my ears again.

"Yeah. I was at the park and she no I mean someone pushed

me off the swing." I replied confusedly.

"No, you were at your school when this happened, Fatima."

my mother held my arm again.

"How many times do I have to tell you? My name. It's

Harrram." I muttered weakly and clutched my head.

The doctor said something to my mother and they walked

outside.

When my mother mentioned of my school. I did remember

most memories of it. The first and most clear being that in

which I was standing in the front of a class saying something.

There were a few girls standing with me. The rest of the class

was laughing. There were other memories too but, my head it

was paining like hell. The curtain shifted to the side and a

nurse walked in

"Here, have this." she handed me a tablet.

Paracetamol. I read on the box. I gulped down the water.

"Fatima."

"Fatima."

Two women and a girl who looked of my age came inside.

"Fatima." one of them stood by me.

"You teach Math, right?" I asked her, she smiled.

"Do you remember my name?"

"I..." I looked around, the girl of my age was smiling at me.

"Fatima." she came to stand beside me.

"Haram." I smiled at her.

"Haram?" she raised her eyebrow.

"My name. It's Haram."

Her eyes widened and, in that moment, I recognized her.

"You are Hajera." I smiled at her.

"Ma'am. She remembers me. She remembers me." she smiled

widely.

The teachers ignored her. The doctor came in and the one who

teaches Math walked outside.

"Who am I to you, Fatima?" Hajera asked me.

"It's Haram."

"You are my friend." I shrugged.

"No, Fatima." she looked sad.

"I am your soulmate. We are childhood friends. Not just a

friend."

"Calm down, Hajera. There's no need to be sentimental."

"Do you remember who you are?"

"I am Harram." I facepalmed myself.

How many times do I have to repeat myself?

"Alright. Let's leave the name. Tell me about yourself. Tell me

your age."

"It's 15."

She sighed with relief.

"And, your family?"

"My mother. She is outside. And I have a sister."

"You have a brother too." she frowned.

"No, just a sister." I argued.

The fact that I had a brother was intensifying the pain.

"Your favorite color?"

I glanced around. My abaya was hanging on the hook of the

door, an embroidery of indigo orchids crafted on it.

"Black with Indigo. It's nice." I muttered weakly, feeling

extremely tired.

"No, It's violet."

"Fatima. Officer would like to speak to you." the teacher

interrupted us.

"Officer?" I frowned.

"Yes. Officer Badr Al-Din. Do you remember?" she smiled

hopefully.

I nodded despite finding that name extremely unfamiliar.

A man walked in. He was tall. He came and sat down on the

chair beside my bed. He looked somewhat familiar.

"Got in trouble again?" he asked grimly.

"Again?"

He shook his head.

"Miss Fatima."

"Harram. It's Haram." I corrected him.

He paused and pretended to think for a moment. Then he

turned to the teacher and murmured something to her. She

nodded in affirmation. He turned to me again.

"So, your name is Haram?"

I nodded feeling extremely tired now.

"Do you know what date it is today?"

"1st January 2016."

He turned to the teacher again and they conversed through

their eyes.

"Do you remember how this incident happened?"

"Yes, I was at the park and someone pushed me off the swing."

"Does she remember anything else?" he turned to Hajera.

"Partially, sir."

"Can you excuse us for a second?" he looked at both of them.

He stared at me for a second. He looked intimidating. Very

intimidating. I felt like he was a grim reaper. Here to take my

soul away.

"Do you think that you could fool me?" he spat.

"Huh?"

"You thought that you could fool me with this petty act of

yours?"

I frowned.

"What does petty mean?"

"Shut up." he spat again. I cowered back in fear.

"You don't understand?"

I shook my head.

"I'll tell you." he got up and started pacing the room.

"Your friend suffered from a concussion after falling down a

flight of stairs."

A memory of me crouching down to a fainted girl near

staircase flashed before my mind. Then I felt dizzy.

He stopped pacing and looked at me.

"Then a brilliant idea came to your mind. You thought why

not pretend to suffer from a concussion and then act as if

you've suffered from a memory loss."

"How do you pretend to suffer from a concussion, sir? The

doctor and the reports have confirmed the head injury." I

frowned thoughtfully.

He shook his head in disgust.

"Your tongue is as sharp as your mind."

"What are you saying? I am..."

He cut me off and called the coordinator in. They conversed in

hushed whispers and then she gave me sympathetic look.

"Where are you taking her?" my mother rushed in.

I shook my head at her loud voice.

"The officer would like to interrogate her individually. She will

be staying at the school. Don't worry she will be taken care of."

I felt dizzy. They bought in a wheelchair and the journey from

the hospital to the school passed in a blur.