2. The Letter
I have grown up just like you said. I still get picked on by girls. They remind me of the vultures from biology class- stalking an injured animal or what's left of it at least. They seem to think that having a flat chest in the 5th grade means you can never find true love. Did you have a flat breast when you met Baba?
There is a boy I like. Well, not "like" like. I feel nervous when I see him. My stomach churns like our rusty curd churner. He seems nice. I don't talk to him though. Baba has told me to be careful around others. He says that they can use me. How can someone use a person? People are not puppets right?
Another girl in my class seems to like him too. Urggh, she seems fake! Everything about her is fake! Even her chest I think. She provokes me the most. One day she glued my dress to the table. It tore a bit and my underwear.. well, I am not comfortable with this part.
The other girls seem innocent. Baba says looks are deceiving. He has become very protective since cancer took to another place. A happy place. Baba blames himself. I don't want to see him sad. He says our days are numbered and we should not count them but enjoy them. He thinks I am intelligent and wants me to live a normal life. I promise you I will never leave him. I will grow up and become a doctor. I will save everyone here.
I miss you Ummi, I don't have anyone else to share this with. I hope Baba doesn't find out about this boy. He will murder me! Well, not literally but still.
I knew about the diary in the table drawer . She would always come late for dinner. I never spoke about it to her. It was her way of dealing with everything around her. I would read stories to her just like you Fatima but I could never be you. I could never be the loving mother. She is with you right? I hope she is. You both have a lot of catching up to do.
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