3 Where I found you

HADIZAT The flight was going to be fourteen long hours. It would have been great if my father had at least put a book in that envelope of his, but that would have been the last thing on his mind following his efforts in trying to protect my life and his. I had the phone my father had put in the envelope, but it was the type that had no internet, it just made calls. I hadn’t seen such a phone since the time my Grandmother visited from Nigeria. She swore it was better and smarter than all our smart phones combined. As much as I tried to convince her to move on from the 90’s, it didn’t work at all. I thought the journey was going to be incredibly boring. Fourteen long hours with nothing but my thoughts. Thoughts which I desperately was trying to escape. I was failing. I couldn't stop thinking about my dad, about the night before and without knowing I had also started thinking about my mum, and the day I lost her. We had been fighting that day, I was angry with for some stupid reason now I can't remember. The morning of her death, I gave her the silent treatment. I left without saying goodbye and I've never regretted anything more. Like an answer to my prayer, my boredom disappeared, I looked to my left and an actor, model, or maybe a perfect sculpture was sitting right next to me. I was simply awed. There was no way he could be human, and if he was, he definitely wasn’t ordinary. He was moving and reading a book, so he passed the human check list. I didn’t need a genius to tell me that he wasn’t ordinary though. His eyes, even with just a peak I could tell were powerful. He had the most gorgeous full lips ever. His fingers, delicate yet looked strong enough to hold me and stop me from falling. He flipped through the pages ever so gently, I started to wish the book in his hand was my face. Yes I was still the same, same girl who was almost killed a few hours ago, same girl who was now acting like a crazy fan girl, who just met her idol. Technically though, I wasn’t the same. I was a very good liar, but I couldn’t lie to myself enough to completely fall into the lie. I could feel worry creeping in at the same time as I felt myself falling into a trance Maybe my flight wouldn’t be so boring, I thought to myself, as I turned to gawk at my seatmate. I tried starting a conversation with him. “Hi,” I said, and then I thought about what to say for a second. “My name’s Hadizat Farouq. It’s my first time going to Nigeria. Are you Nigerian?” I wasn’t even surprised at how freely the lie flowed from my mouth. How Hilal became Farouq, but I couldn't tell him my real name. It would be a long time before I would be myself again. For the first time since the flight started he turned and looked at me through his reading glasses for a second or two, then without a word he put his hand into his breast pocket and slipped out a card and gave it to me and then he continued reading his book. Strange? No rude? Yes I thought it was, but I didn’t ponder much on it, instead I pondered on how captivating his eyes were, how straight his nose was, as if God had stopped to use a ruler for it, his jawline, and… I didn’t let myself complete the thought, I was moving too close to sin. Too close to a shiny object that would be blinding. I looked at the complimentary card he had given me, his name was Salim Abubakar. He worked at a construction company called galaxy in Nigeria, Lagos precisely. For some reason I was really excited, my heart was racing faster than normal. I turned again to access him properly; indeed he was stunning, looks, like that of a mannequin, perfect in every physical aspect. How he was not a model or an actor was what I found most surprising. He had a face... Again shiny object. I paused. “Are you planning on boring a hole into my face with that stare of yours?” he asked, still not looking at my face. His voice was husky, but velvety smooth and he had a Nigerian accent. He had caught me staring, and usually I would have felt embarrassed, but at that moment I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, but maybe it had to do with the fact that my brain wasn’t really functioning properly at that moment. “Sorry,” I grinned and looked away. If the normally rational me would see what I had just done, she’d be shaking her head and giving me a disappointed look, but the new me took chances and made bold, embarrassing, and life altering moves. After that conversation which wasn’t really a conversation, to be honest, we both said nothing until I fell asleep. I dreamt about something other than guns for the first time in days. I dreamt about Salim. We fell in love and we were going back to America to see my Father. I woke up hours later and saw Salim asleep. His eyelashes were so long they rested below his eyes, and his eye brows furrowed together, almost forming a uni-brow. His chest bounced slowly and gently in rhythm with the sound of his breathing. I watched him sleep for a long time before falling asleep again, and just for that moment, I completely forgot my problems. I thought, if I could look at this man everyday I could find a way to survive.