Noah by Farah Al-Sultan

In order to understand this, you must first learn who Noah really is.

            It’s time to start.

“A few blocks down from our apartment, is a cute little coffee shop called “Chillz”. My friends and I meet there weekly on Fridays. Exactly in the middle lay this horrible strip club, you can catch any sexually transmitted disease by just looking at it. I walk by it most of the time. Last Friday on my way back home, I spotted a person I wish I didn’t. Noah, a man between the ages of 45-50, was leaving the club. I was incredibly shocked, all I could think of was ‘did mom know about this?’. 

“Are all the nights you claimed you were teaching spent here?” I asked later on.

“Yes.” He answered. He then continued to explain about how my mom knows, that he was working as an M.C., it’s helping out with the money, he didn’t…, then suddenly silence. I looked at him, and out of nowhere he was covered in his own blood. It took me a while to figure out it that I heard a gunshot, but faster to realize it wasn’t just clubs he dealt with. I just walked away, someone will find him eventually. Although my mom will have sleepless nights when she finds out, all I can do now is let her have her sleep. I never understood what she liked in him anyway. And that’s all I guess.” I ended. None of them spoke.

“So, he was your stepfather, correct?” policeman one broke the silence.

“He was indeed.” I replied.

“Let’s forget about the crime for a second, why are you so emotionless? I understand he was just a stepfather, but why?” policeman one spoke once more. Seems like policeman two is asleep.

“It’s a survival skill. If you attach yourself to something you will feel pain, why should I let myself feel pain?” I replied while leaving the room. Clearly, nothing more could be said or unsaid.

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