Voiceless by Merriam AlFuhaid


Wake up, parental units. No, I don’t need my diaper changed. No, I don’t need to be fed. I’m just bored. Since I can’t sit upright yet and watch TV, looking at your exhausted faces at 3 AM is the next best thing. And let me tell you, it’s pretty damn good. The schedule is fairly predictable: First, we have what I call The Mommy Show, which is cool but it comes on all the time, and I get tired of mentally making fun of Mommy’s singing voice. If I manage to cry for 45 minutes to an hour straight, then I get The Daddy Show. The Daddy Show is my favorite because Daddy is scared of breaking babies. And let me tell you, that is fun to watch.  Continue reading

Traitor by Merriam AlFuhaid

You look at me like I have betrayed you. Have I? Or have I only betrayed the expectations you had of the person you wanted me to be? I don’t think that is the same thing. I don’t think my life is related to the feelings I have towards you. You disagree, but then, you don’t understand why you drive people away. I would not leave you, but I understand everyone who has. Perhaps it wasn’t right, but I know exactly how they felt. Continue reading

Melancholy by Merriam AlFuhaid

The teardrop diamond earrings hung from her ears and glistened in the electric light, a hundred reflections dancing on the wall. I have seen perfection, and it was not in the mirror.

Harsh words have been thrown against me like pebbles against a windshield. It is difficult to break all the way, to be in such divided pieces that others would try to repair them. But it’s so easy to crack. Continue reading

Noah by Merriam AlFuhaid

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

            People who didn’t know Noah laughed at him if he complained about his job. “Someone pays you to introduce strippers? Pays you? What a hard job you have,” they would say, and then five minutes later they’d realize they made a pun and start cracking up, and Noah would fantasize about putting stilettos through their foreheads.  Continue reading

“But Daddy I Love Him” by Merriam AlFuhaid

For as long as she could remember, Dana had wished boys liked her half as much as mosquitos did. Really, even a quarter as much would have been enough. She’d read once in a magazine that mosquitos were drawn to people who ate a lot of sugar or were overly emotional, and she was living proof that being both of those things was a guaranteed way to attract bugs and repel men. Not that she blamed the men for thinking she wasn’t much of a catch. If hips didn’t lie, she certainly hoped the tape measure did, and it was certainly hard to find a place for a man in your arms when you had a piece of cake in one hand and a box of tissues in the other.  Continue reading

Revolution by Merriam AlFuhaid

I was in the park when it happened. I was sitting on a bench, eating my snack of strawberries and water-soaked almonds, when a little blonde girl paused in front of me and stared. She didn’t say a word—she only sucked on a lollipop while her eyes, like two blue buttons, were fixed on me.

“Hello,” I said, to break the awkward silence. She still said nothing. I saw that she was staring at the container of food on my lap. “Would you like some of my food?” I asked.  Continue reading

Glass by Merriam AlFuhaid

I sat myself beneath the window, on the window seat. I’m going to pray, I told myself. My throat automatically clenched in resistance. I’ve got to, I said to it.

I had no right to ask God for anything, and I wouldn’t have usually, but by now I was willing to try anything. And I suspected that everything else I’d tried in the past month was an excuse to avoid trying this.

“Dear God,” I said. “I’m sorry.”  Continue reading