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The joy of being cherished

The joy of being cherished

I get a pounding headache all of a sudden and get this extreme urge to hit my head in the wall. The migraine is coming again, I think. It will be the death of me one day, I swear. I hold my head in my hands and close my eyes.


My phone beeps to notify me of a new text message. I pick it up and open it.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t come today. I need to go somewhere. Take care,’ the text reads.

With a tinge of disappointment, I throw my phone across the bed. Why isn’t he here for me when I need him? Isn’t he supposed to be here for me? I only asked him to come meet me, even if it’s only for a little time. I hate him. Tears start streaming down my face as I try to sleep, but the excruciating migraine doesn’t let me. Angry and frustrated, eventually, I go to sleep.

I wake up with the headache still there, growing. I go to the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee. Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. I stand still, not even breathing. I hear more footsteps. Careful footsteps. I gulp. At the same time the lights in the kitchen go out. I swiftly turn my head towards the switch board and immediately see a shadow move towards the door. My heart starts racing and I silently say a prayer. I pick up the frying pan on the counter, hold it like a weapon, and move towards the door.

With rising palpitation, I put my hand on the nob and twist it.


‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!’ I scream and scream and scream. ‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!’ The other voice starts to laugh, a very humorous laugh.

An arm comes around me, and I start struggling. I swing the frying pan in whatever direction I can until it hits a hard head.

‘Ouch! Hey, Merida, it’s me, Colin!’ The voice explains. The person tries to hold me in place while I keep screaming and swinging my frying pan.

Finally, I register what the voice said. Colin. That voice is Colin’s. He strokes my hair and holds me while I try to calm myself.

‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ I mumble.

‘Yeah well, I was going to give you a surprise. Did you really think I wouldn’t come’ He replies with a nervous laughter.

‘By killing me?’ I mock.

‘It didn’t really turn out the way I had expected.’ He says.

‘Yeah. And I’m not sorry for hitting your head.’ I punch him in the arm

He turns on the light, hands me a big box and gestures me to open it. I lift the lid off and find myself staring at chocolates and packets of jellies and marshmallows, the ones that I love. I gasp at the beautiful sight.

‘Omg!’ I scream with joy. I look at Colin with affection. ‘Thank you!’

‘Do you still have the migraine?’ He chuckles and asks.

‘No!’ I reply. ‘But it’s not because of these,’ I say holding up the box, ‘it’s because you’re here.’

He smiles and pulls me in an embrace. And It’s true when they say that you can forget every pain, every misery when you’re with someone you love. It feels like heaven when his big brown eyes look at me intensely, when he strokes my hair and caresses my cheek with his gentle hands, and when I feel warm when he kisses my head with his soft lips. It feels like heaven with him.


About The Author

Hamda Shafiq

Social, friendly, extrovert. Loves to talk about deep shit. Personal therapist of many, so you know where to come when you need to talk. Very understanding. Not very good with sarcasm, unfortunately. And an aspiring (plus mediocre) artist and writer, aiming to break walls, and become a legacy.