My eyes blinked facing the blue light of the square screen in front of me, my fingers clicked as they pushed the buttons of the keyboard that was set on the table for what seemed like eternity but neither my mind nor my heart felt anything wrong about what I was doing or what was happening.
"Ahmed!" a familiar voice shouted my name, not from afar but what appeared to be right next to me.
In response, my head shot upwards following the sound. Left to the disk where I was sitting, was the door to the outside of my room. which a figure had blocked all the light coming from there, "Ahmed!, come on! why don't you go outside for once in a while? go play with the kids outdoors!, just to stretch out your legs since all you do is sit on that chair all day!" the familiar voice continued to shout. Even though it was close to me, right in front of me actually.
I sighed upon hearing the dialogue, I heard those words repeatedly many times a day ever since we moved out of my grandfather's house.
the figure's left arm moved toward the wall, and quickly turned on the lights of the room
the figure, no. my grandmother shouted the words again "come on!, get up! you good for nothing idiot! that piece of junk has rotten up your brain"
"Okay, okay, fine." I finally got up from my chair, and put my headset down on the small dark wooden table, 'I really hate this bullshit, what is there outside to do anyway?' I screamed in my head in agony.
my weak legs shook for a little as they let out a small click when i walked away from my setup.
The floor was cold and too clean for my feet.
my grandmother moved out of the way when i walked out of the room. The room didn't even have a door; it was just a square hole that allowed people to go in and out.
"Grandma!, where's mom?" I shouted at my grandmother. I walked without looking back toward the kitchen. There was so little space between each room that I felt hard breathing.
"She's at work right now." that was all my grandmother said as a response to my question, which wasn't a rare question to her at all.
'work…why do people work?, is it for the money? for the food? to continue to live?, if so. why do we live?, everything is going to end when we die afterall, so. isn't it all worthless? Why should anyone cling to the beauty of life if they're going to die anyway. Why should they work on anything at all, if death was going to end everyone's known or unknown legacy.'
I continued to walk to the door that leads to the exit of the house as I grabbed my blue pair slippers, they were old and torn. just like I am.
but maybe the first description doesn't fit me.
Sometimes, when you buy a freshly made sandwich, its taste may be awful but not due to how long the ingredients were sitting around or the quality of them but how they were made is what shaped them to be in that taste.
I put my pair of slippers on, stretched my legs by kicking forward slowly.
I then walked forward to the door and opened it, and what met my eyes was just the golden light of the sun that felt like something they haven't experienced in a long long time, making me blink for quite a couple of times as my eyes burned as a reaction and as a punishment for me for not going outside in such a long amount of time.