***
Sat in the near-darkness of a theatre, I brimmed with expectations as I gazed at the giant screen before us. The movie, like my life, was a reenactment of Cinderella. Set in Salem, Massachusetts, during the Witch Hunt period, the movie revolved around a young orphan abused by her stepmother and two half sisters. At a ball, Michael Huntington, the priest/executioner's son fell for the mysterious girl who disappeared at midnight, leaving behind a glass slipper. Upon knowing Cinderella was the girl after Michael's heart, her evil family framed her as a witch and delivered to the priest for execution.
Things would heat up, making us gasp and almost fall off the edges of our seats. But like all fairytales, a happily ever after climaxed the movie. The villains were made to suffer. The hero got the girl. And they lived happily ever after.
"That's the best movie I've seen in years!" Stella exclaimed as we stepped out of the theatre. "It's such a bold retelling of Cinderella. Did you like it?"
"It's a great movie," I said.
Draping an arm over my shoulders, Stella led me to the cafeteria. She sat across from me. "Do you know why I wanted you to see that movie?"
"Because she went through hell just like me?" I guessed.
"Yes," she said. "I wanted you to see her overcome every obstacle, climb every mountain, live through every disappointment, and emerge victorious. I wanted you to see her forge ahead even after Aunt Maggie, her supposed fairy godmother abandoned her when she was accused of being a witch. It is truly a great movie."
A waiter advanced to us with a well-practiced smile lighting up his face. "Good afternoon. What would you like?"
"Chicken and chips should do." Stella said. "What drinks are available? Chapman?"
The waiter nodded.
"Chapman it is then," Stella decided. "And a bottle of water."
The waiter wrote down Stella's orders in his notepad. To me, he said, "And you, miss?"
"Same," I said.
"Whatever they're having, make it for four," I heard a bubbly voice say. Farah. Raheem stood beside her, his face as though he'd died in a dream.
Farah waved at Stella. "Hello."
"Hi," Stella said.
"What are you doing here?" Farah half-squealed at me, muting out Stella's and Raheem's greetings.
"We saw a movie," I said.
"Same here! Raheem and I saw Cinderella Retold. That movie is just amazing! I could watch it over and over again."
"Raheem saw the movie?" I asked. I could never have tagged him as one for cheesy love stories.
"I am not one for such movies," Raheem said. "She forced me to come along. The movie was crappy. Waste of time."
Farah nudged him with her elbow. "Liar."
"I'd rather be at home playing," Raheem said.
"He's only putting on an act. He enjoyed the movie."
"I know," Stella said. "Everyone did."
Farah made to join us, but Raheem tugged at her arm. Forcing an overly formal smile, he said, "We'll sit at our own table. We wouldn't want to bother you. Enjoy your day, please." His eyes begged that we backed him up.
"Actually, it's no bother," Stella said.
She smirked at the beat up look on Raheem's face as Farah hurried to occupy the seat beside mine. Left without a choice, Raheem occupied the last seat. He cast Farah a life threatening glance that made me wonder how they survived at home.
The waiter returned with our order. Once he placed them on our table, Farah started getting acquitted with hers. Noticing Stella staring intently at Farah, Raheem said, "She's Farah. My kid sister."
"Wow, I can see so much resemblance," Stella said. "It's great to meet you, Farah. I am-"
"The school nurse," Farah cut in. "Oh, please, tell me I'm right!" She clapped a palm over her eyes, but I could see her peeking at Stella from the space between her fingers.
"I am she," Stella said, half-giggling. "I'm just curious about how you could tell."
Plastering an ear-to-ear grin on her face, Farah uncovered her eyes. "With vivid descriptions like the ones Raheem gives, even the king of fools can tell who he speaks of. For example, I haven't seen the principal yet. But I know to expect an overweight man, his skin as burned chocolate. His hair, styled as an afro, is a mix of black and white. And then he's five foot six. He walks as though every step were a punishment. And then there's Sir Aaron, a man of stone. He lives in his own world and doesn't even-"
"Farah!" Raheem warned.
Farah recoiled in an attempt to escape Raheem's fiery gaze. "Uhm ...yeah?"
"Could you just shut up and eat?" Raheem asked.
Farah pressed a finger to her lips. "Oops. Sorry."
With the new found silence, we all had time to dig into our snacks. Farah finished first. She swept her eyes around the table, aching to speak. I could tell it wouldn't take long for her to break the silence.
"Who could have thought Raheem Kadir could actually make friends?" she thought aloud with a smirk. Glad to have my attention and Stella's she went on, "In our former school, he almost never said a word. I'm just really surprised he's actually making friends now. Loner!"
"I'm not-" Raheem said.
Farah cut him off. "Oh, shush. The only friend you've ever had is your guitar."
"There was Malik, Yusuf and Karmani," Raheem said.
"Only because you were all in a band," Farah said.
"Wait," Stella said. "Raheem is a singer?"
Farah beamed at herself for steering the conversation in this direction.
Raheem nodded. "I'm in a band. Impaling Sedation."
"I've never heard of it," Stella said.
"I don't expect you to," he said. "The band's popularity never crossed Iraq. We mostly played at clubs, diners and some shows. We were meant to do a really huge audition. But then the war came along, shattering our dreams."
Stella seemed genuinely interested. "Are your songs on the internet? Perhaps you could send me a link? I want to watch you sing. I'm a fan of rock myself."
"Cool," Farah said. "Are you a fan of Bring me the Horizon?"
"That's one of my top rated," Stella said.
"Perfect," Farah said, rubbing her palms together. "Then you'll love Raheem's band, I assure you. His band is bomb!"
"I can only imagine," Stella said.
"Can you heal my heart," Farah sang. "It's bleeding. Can you fix my soul, it's broken-"
"Quit ruining my song," Raheem said.
Farah pouted. "Oh, come on. I'm just trying to-"
"Don't."
"Okay then, sing."
"I'm not singing. That's the lead singer's job. Not the guitarist's."
Rising to her feet, Farah clapped her hands to gain everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you wouldn't mind a little background music, would you?"
"Farah, what are you doing?" Raheem whispered between clenched teeth.
Farah played deaf. Lighting up her face with an enchanting smile, she pulled in her observers. "With us here is a rockstar who's dying to share his music. He represents a male fronted rock band called 'Impaling Sedation'. Will you deny him a chance to sing? Please put your hands together if you want to witness this live show today when it's free."
A roar of applause followed Farah's request. Energized, by the encouraging noise, she introduced in a full bloom scream, "Give it up for...Ra-Heeeeem!"
She gestured at Raheem and winked at him. Raheem swept his eyes around the room. He held everyone's attention.
Whimpering, he bounced in his seat. Farah giggled. My sixth sense told me she'd kicked him. If he didn't get up and feed the crowd with quality music, she would definitely kick him again. I could tell from the look on her face.
'Please don't disappoint, please don't disappoint,' I chanted to myself.
Raheem rose to his feet and waved at the crowd. "I'll...uhm...I'll go grab my guitar."
The audience seemed to be okay with his hurried departure. Either that, or they didn't want to watch him, but didn't want to make Farah feel
bad.