MANCHESTER EPIPHANY CHAPTER 4: GOODBYE IS ALWAYS THE HARDEST THING

Eiyo Fadneiras,

Manchester Epiphany chapter 4 is ready for you to read ^_^

Encik Habibullah and Prof. Meriam are returning to Malaysia. Yasmeen is feeling sad and having a hard time letting go of her parents. This is Yasmeen's first time alone in a foreign country. Will she survive?

XoXo,

Fadima Mooneira ^_^

(Author of Manchester Epiphany)

PS: Manchester Epiphany is now available on Goodreads. Please check it out >> MANCHESTER EPIPHANY @GOODREADS

THE COLLEGE SEASON begins. Alhamdulillah, everything has turned out well for me so far. All my lecturers seem friendly and approachable.

Today, I do not have any classes. So I get the chance to spend some quality time with my family. I’m now in the dining room enjoying a breakfast meal of scrambled eggs, baked beans, and toasts that Ayah has prepared. My parents are in my room. They are busy packing their suitcases.

I have not seen Marisa and Aisha yet today. Both of them probably have classes right now. Aisha Khumbayanjiwa is my new flatmate. She is the girl in room 13A. Like Marisa, Aisha is also pretty, friendly, cheerful, and has a colourful personality.

Aisha is also tall and slender. She looks like the host of America’s Next Top Model, Tyra Banks. Aisha is from Malawi. But she has been living in England for quite a long time now. Aisha told me that her family sent her to England when she was a teenager. Yup, she went to high school here. And so did her siblings. Aisha is Mr. and Mrs. Khumbayanjiwa’s eldest child out of five siblings. She is in her final year doing a Bachelor’s Degree in Chemistry at Manchester Metropolitan University.

Krik … krik … krik … I hear a friction coming from my plate. I look down and notice that my plate is already empty. Oh… I’m done with breakfast. Alhamdulillah. The breakfast is good; as always, my dad is an ace chef.

I rise from my seat and walk towards the sink. I turn on the faucet and wash my plate. While washing my plate, I start to wonder again. I have been feeling miserable since last night. Seriously, I can't imagine what is going to happen to me in the next five hours.

Ayah and Ibu are leaving Manchester today. Yup, today is their last day here.

Hmm … why do I feel so sad to say goodbye to my parents now? When we were back in Malaysia, I was excited to start a new life here. That excitement remained when we arrived here. All I could think about was a new adventure. I never thought about saying goodbye and being far away from them. Gosh … why must this feeling suddenly enter my heart? Am I ready to say goodbye to my parents?

~~~

THE TIME arrives. Ayah and Ibu are leaving Wilmslow Park for the airport. The Wilmslow Park bus stand is where we say our goodbyes.

“Take care, baby girl. Ayah loves you,” says Ayah while releasing me from his embrace.

“I love you too, Ayah.” I pull Ayah into my embrace again. Oh boy … It is so hard to say goodbye now.

“Take care, too, sayang. Remember what Ibu told you? Be a good girl and never miss your daily solat,” reminds Ibu before kissing my forehead.

“Ayah, Ibu … don’t you want me to send you to the airport?” I give my parents a hopeful look. I want to go to the airport with them. I want to spend more time with them.

“Here is good enough, dear,” answers Ibu.

“Yeah, we don’t want to trouble you,” adds Ayah.

I’m not happy with Ayah and Ibu’s answer. But I respect their decision. Manchester is still new to me. Not all places here are familiar to me. I may get lost. Ayah and Ibu always think of my safety first. They do not want to trouble me. Plus, the sky is getting dark.

The bus to Manchester Airport arrives at Wilmslow Park. Ayah, Ibu, and I embrace each other again. I find it so hard to let my parents go.

“Ok, baby girl … we’re leaving now. Take care, and we’ll call you as soon as we arrive,” says Ayah before entering the bus.

Ibu pulls me into her arms again. We embrace each other, and then Ibu let me go. I watch her follow Ayah into the bus.

Alone at the bus stand, I wave goodbye to my parents as the bus heads southward. From the bus stand, I can see Ayah and Ibu wave back at me. Tears roll down my cheeks. Only Allah knows the sadness I am feeling now. I stand there watching the bus take my parents to the airport till it disappears from my sight.

Then I cross the street and walk to the opposite bus stand. I want to go to Oxford Court and meet Irdina. I don’t want to be alone right now. Sob! Sob!

Soon, the bus heading north arrives. I climb into the bus and flash the driver my Uni Rider card.

“Welcome on board, love.” The driver typically greets me. I take a seat. And the bus drives north.

~~~

ALHAMDULILLAH. The traffic is good. It takes me eight minutes to reach the All Saints bus stand. I thank the driver and alight from the bus.

I hurried to Oxford Court, which is located behind Man Met’s main campus, the All Saints Building. I take out my phone as I reach Oxford Court and dial Irdina’s number.

“The person you’re calling is not available. Please leave a voice message after the beep. Beep!” I turn off the call without leaving a voice message for Irdina. Haish … where can Irdina be?

I dial Irdina’s number again. But the same thing happens. I dial Irdina’s number three times. But still, there is no answer.

After my seventh attempt fails, I put the smartphone into my trench coat pocket. Aduhai … where is Irdina now, just when I need her the most?

Oh, yes … suddenly I remember. Since we do not have class today, of course, Irdina is at Blooming Jardin or Floria Shine working part-time. Oh dear! How can I forget!

So … where must I go next? Home? Or the City Centre to meet Irdina? Ouch! I tap my chin.

Umm … home lah. Haa … I decide to return to Wilmslow Park. I do not want to disturb Irdina. I hope Aisha and Marisa are home now. I do not want to be alone.

As I’m just about to make my move, my heart suddenly feels sad. Tears start rolling down my cheeks again. I can even hear myself sobbing. My body feels unsteady. I know I must have looked like a drunk person. Control, Meen! I tell myself. Unfortunately, I cannot control myself at all! Waaaaaaa!

Gedebuk! I bump into a tall, masculine figure and fall to the ground. My face almost lands on a pair of shiny black shoes. Luckily, I manage to balance myself. If not, it will be another embarrassing soap opera. Duh!

“Miss, are you okay?” asks the tall guy. He bends down and tries to pick me up. Two of his handsome hands are gripping my shoulders. He stares and frowns at me.

But hey … wait a minute! I know this face. It’s Mr. Tall-DarkAnd-Handsome again. Oh blimey! Why do I always meet him in embarrassing situations? Crying! Sobbing! Weeping! Argh! Control, Yasmeen Aizura. Control.

“Wuuuuu …. aaaaaaah!” Aduhai! I cannot control my emotions. I am practically howling like a wounded animal. This is extremely embarrassing! Argh!

“Miss, are you ok? Did I hurt you?” Mr. Tall-Dark-AndHandsome sounds worried. I can feel his grip tightening on my shoulders. He tries to lift me.

“I … I … I yaaaa … waaaaaaaaa … aaaaaaaa …” I stammer and howl again. Oh dear … I hope this is the last time I meet Mr. TallDark-And-Handsome in a super embarrassing situation. And geez … it is hard to say a word when you’re emotionally unstable.

Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome to the rescue again

Tears roll down my face. I know I looked like Niagara Falls. Aduh … you are so embarrassing, Yasmeen Aizura. So Kak Maya is not the only unlucky girl every time she meets a handsome guy. Her little sister is just as unlucky as her. In fact, worse. I hope I will not be in this kind of situation when I meet Ricardo Alonso. Hmph!

“Okay … keep calm.” The handsome hunk releases my shoulders. He puts his right hand in his khaki trench coat pocket and takes out a handkerchief. The handkerchief is light blue and soft. And it has Asian-styled embroideries on it. It is a lovely handkerchief.

Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome wipes my tears with his handkerchief. “Are you feeling better now?” he asks. He has a thick British accent. How sexy! I nod. I do not want him to be worried about me.

“Alhamdulillah.” Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome expresses his gratefulness. I am shocked. Did he say alhamdulillah? This Mr. TallDark-And-Handsome?

“Thank you for your kindness, sir.” I express my gratitude. “Are you Muslim?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers. And I suddenly feel calm. Tears have stopped rolling down my cheeks. Alhamdulillah.

“Assalamualaikum.” I greet him.

And he replies, “Waalaikumussalam warahmatullahi.”

“Why were you crying just now?” asks Mr. Tall-Dark-AndHandsome. Gulp! How do I answer him? Lup-dup! Lup-dup! Lupdup! I can feel my heart racing. Haish … calm down, heart!

“I … I … actually …” I stammer to begin my words. I feel ashamed to tell him why I cried just now. Well, he is a stranger. I think it is inappropriate to tell a stranger that I am sad I have to say goodbye to my parents.

“It’s okay … maybe you can tell me later. How about I cheer you up first? Do you like ice cream?” Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome flashes me his handsome smile. Oh … that smile melts my heart.

I stare at the hunk in front of me with amazement. I cannot answer his questions at all. Ice cream? He invites me to have ice cream at this moment?

“I know the best ice cream parlour in Manchester.” I hear the handsome hunk say in his deep voice.

I remain silent and give him a confused look.

“Oh … sorry, I almost forgot … I’m Arban Batsaikhan, by the way. And you are?” Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome introduces himself. He also extends his right hand to me.

Oh … Arban Batsaikhan is his name. What a unique and handsome name. As handsome as the person. Hehehe …

“Yasmeen Aizura Habibullah,” I mention my name. And we shake hands …

-TO BE CONTINUED-

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