Clothed in Red

She worked the same shift as he did in a small supermarket in Aynor, South Carolina and both cashiers were next to each other. They worked the same shifts the entire week except for Saturdays and Sundays, he worked the night shift. He was very thin and tall and she was short and quite thick and always complained about her weight and told him that she used to get made fun of in high school because of her weight. She had scar marks all over her arms. He always wondered what they were:
“I was a cutter,” she said.
“What do you mean a cutter?” he said.
“I mean I used te cut myself with a razorblade.”
“Oh my God, why?!”
“It relieved my stress, made me feel a whole lot better. I hated being made fun of. They used te call me a-fat hog,” she said.
“You’re not a fat hog Sarah.”
“Really?”
“Yes really. Feel free to express yourself as you like.”
“So ye don’t think I’m awkward?” she said.
“Well maybe you’re a little different but I still like you.”
“Oh Gawlee, that makes me feel lots betta. Thank ye Akhmed.”
“You’re welcome.”
His legal residency had expired two years ago and his driver’s license was his only cover. He needed a quick way to obtain his legal permanent residency. Most of the friends he had married an American to get their residency:
“Marry her Ahmed. Marry her, get your residency then dump her,” one of his friends suggested in an exploitive manner.
“I can’t do that man. It’s inhumane,” he said.
“Well I tell you what: make a deal with her. Pay her, get married and get your papers then let her go. That’s it. No one gets hurt.”
“You think she’ll say yes?” he wondered.
“I don’t see why not.”
They both got out of work on Thursdays at the same time and stood chatting outside of the supermarket. He found her very intelligent, just didn’t find her physically appealing. She particularly liked talking about English and English authors so did he.
“I really like you Sarah,” he fabricated.
“Oh jeez I didn’t see that comin. I like you too. I really like ye. Ye ain’t like other min,” she said.
“What do you mean? Is there anything wrong with me?”
“Well no. Yer honest and nice. Ye ain’t no trickster goin after tail.”
“No Sarah that’s not me.”
“What do ye like in me?” she shyly asked, blushing.
“Well you’re very smart and you’re into the humanities and so am I. We both like Faulkner.”
“I guess so,” she glistened.
“Say? Do you want to go out next Friday? I’ll take you to Applebee’s, my treat,” he eagerly proposed.
“Yea sure,” she excitedly said.
She got used to him and he painted her life in pink unaware of what he was doing to her heart, the hypnosis he’s spelled on her. She fell in love for him in no time but he treated her as a common friend and pretended to like her.
They went out on Friday and she was opening a door that led to a dismal alley, forming his cynical plots for him in delusion:
“Say Akhmed? I want ye te meet my friends. They’re really nice,” she rushed. “I want ye to meet my mother.”
“Well sure. Say when and where,” he drew her in.
They met at Susan’s, her best friend.
“Susan I want ye te meet Akhmed. He’s the nice gentlemin I been tellin you about.”
“Nice to meet you Akhmed,” her friend shook his hand, while wisely peering into his dull eyes.
“Please have a seat. What would you like to drink?” Susan asked him.
“Coke thank you.”
He sat next to the mesmerized damsel. Her friend gave him a can of Coke and he drank it.
“I’ll leave you two out here. I have homework that I’ve got to finish.”
She ran her fingers through his thick black locks and said,
“Kiss me. Please kiss me.”
“Well I can’t do that Sarah. I’ve never done it before.”
“Really? You ain’t kissed no one before?” she wondered.
“No, I’ve never kissed or been kissed before,” he pliantly said, with no expressions on his bleak face.
“Then you must be a virgin?!” she surprisingly said. “Oh my Gowlee I got me a virgin,” she excitedly said.
“Yep.”
“Wawnte know a secret?” she said, with her eyes closing in on his.
“Sure.”
“I’m-a virgin too.”
“Really? Are you telling me that you’re twenty three and you’ve never had sex?”
“Na, ain’t never. Savin it for the right man,” she slowly climbed over him and eased him down the couch. They exchanged kisses timelessly. He kept drawing her into deep water and she could barely swim. He wanted to pounce, reveal his intentions, just didn’t know when for sure. At the same time, he was smothered with gilt, seeing her sinking deeply.
“Alright you two that’s enough smooching,” Susan came out.
He got up leaving her breathless:
“Well I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you Susan. Bye Sarah,” he said on his way out of the door.
“Bye,” Sarah faintly said.
“Hey snap out of it,” Susan snapped her fingers at her.
“What?!” Sarah flickered her eyes in surprise, breathless.
“Watch out for guys like him. They play the innocent card then catch you off guard. He wants something and it doesn’t always have to be sex Sarah,” Susan warned her.
“No Susan he’s different,” she blissfully denied.
She introduced him to her mother next, took him home and got her way with him. Her mother warned her just as her friend did. She wore the deceiving Prada shades on her own. He felt that it was finally time for him to unveil his intentions and he did it cruelly, suavely cruel:
“Sarah would you marry me?” he surprised her while kissing.
“What?!”
“Marry me,” he reaffirmed.
“Well Akhmed you caught me off guard there. I ain’t ready te make such a commitment,” she withdrew herself from above him.
“I need to get my residency. Marry me. I’ll pay you. How does three thousand dollars sound?”
“It ain’t about the money. I just thought ye was different,” she shockingly replied. “I thought ye was different. I loved ye. I gave ye my heart. I gave you everything and yer takin it all away from me,” she unfathomed.
“I’m sorry Sarah,” he guiltily replied.
“Don’t ye love me Akhmed? Please say yes. You’ve said it before. Did ye lie te me?” her eyes collecting tears.
“I’m sorry Sarah but I really don’t love you. I just needed this favor,” he got up and buttoned his shirt.
“Ye don’t love me?! Ye lied te me this whole time,” she said.
“I’m sorry Sarah. I’ve got to go. It was nice knowing you. It really was. I guess our intentions just didn’t coincide,” he apologized.
“No they did not, they sure did not,” she said it blankly gazing at him.
He opened the room door and hurried out.
“It was really nice knowing you Miss Deborah,” he rushed outside of the trailer door.
She sat in front of the mirror overwhelmingly surprised. She opened the makeup drawer and stared at the razorblade, disguised behind a lustrous shimmer. Inviting.
“Ye miss me don’t ye?” she addressed the razorblade in a stupefied manner. “I missed ye too. Yer the only friends I gots. Ye take my pain away,” she wiped her tears. “Take my breath away, won’t ye?”
She picked up the razorblade and violently slit her left wrist. Blood gushed in unknown and forgotten lands. The crimson fountain generously flowed. She grew numb and eternally blacked out, dwindling into forsaken nameless dreams.
“Sarah?! Sarah?!” her mother yelled out loud, rushing down the hallway.
“Oh Jesus Christ, darlin!” her mother screamed.
She innocently lied in a stark pool of her own blood, eyes wide open, staring into the ambivalent Heavens. She lived her life’s fantasy. She lived true love and it became her undoing. She trusted a distant foreigner and treaded into forbidden boundaries unguided. She was branded with innocence, too pure for an environment where wolves dwell for foolish lambs, the victim of a cruel reality. Gullible. Her soul along with her memory vanished like a solemn breeze vaporizing into a ruthless desert.


Copyright: Sherif Mohamed 2016

Well Blondey, I don't know if I'll write a sequel, but he probably got deported though and barred from entering the US for ten years. Sarah's accent is the Southern accent here in the States; they have a hard time pronouncing names in the Arabic language. Thank you for your encouragement and constant support Blondey. You're a great friend. By the way, you look great in black in the new picture you posted :)

Take care
Sherif