A Dark and Windy Night

Leaning over a dark green plastic bag that his mum held from either side of him, he struggled to suppress a strong sense of nausea beneath his deeply regretful mind that deafened his ears from his mother and brother’s scolding. His face was a similar colour to the bag and his eyes were bulging from the force of his lunch ramming back up through his chest. Utterly dazed, he strived to remain calm as he slowly got up from his hunch to lie down on his bed with a large bump on his stomach. The worst was now over. He had done it.

That, my friends, was me just last night. It was only ten minutes before Fajr (sunrise) and I needed the food otherwise I would have starved to death the next day. So, I very wisely shoved four chicken breast pieces down my throat and gulped down three full glasses of water in about six minutes ten minutes before Fajr. Never will I attempt such an act again because the food was pretty much saying, “Hey! You’re not allowed to eat me that quickly. That’s so rude and devaluing. For that I shall make it my mission to get back out of you the way I came in.” But I won in the end!

Anyway, before this I popped into Tesco around 10:30. I chose a bagel, custard and an iced latte to take the self checkout machine. I scanned the items and chose to pay by card. I put my hand in left pocket where I usually keep my wallet and… you guessed right. I’d forgotten it. I checked the other pocket just in case and found £1.50. I could only afford the iced latte with that. In order to cancel an item you need consent from one of the workers in the shop, so a short and rather chubby Asian lady helped me cancel two items. I’ll be honest, this was quite embarrassing.

On the way home through the dark path that Vicarage lane is at night, I drank my iced latte feeling a pang a shame in my chest. I needed to prove to that Asian lady that I can afford to buy a bagel and custard. When I entered my house, my mum asked me, “I thought you were buying something?” By then I’d finished the iced latte and thrown it away.

“I forgot my wallet,” I replied glumly.

“What’s the point in going all the way back?” she inquired. “Eat something else in the house.”

I didn’t respond because I’d made up my mind. I needed to prove myself. I exited the house a second later with my wallet, trying to refuel motivation within me and taking long confident strides. At night where I live, it’s quite spooky. You see random people you never see during the day, as if we live among nocturnal creatures. Lucky I left my phone at home because I would prefer them taking my wallet, which has a few cards I barely use, a debit card they’ll need my pin for, which I can tell my bank to block after it is stolen, and about thirty 5p coins. A few years ago I decided to collect 5p coins for some odd reason and then stopped after a month or so. I’m a strange simpleton sometimes.

I arrived to Tesco unscathed and to my astonishment, it was closing. The Asian lady looked up at me as she closed the doors and said, “Sorry, we’re –”

I briskly walked away, back into the dark and windy night as my great friend used to say, rather hoping that the nocturnal were planning to rob me. With the annoyance that grew within me, I wanted to see them try.

I got home and my mum nagged, “Where’s the food then?”

I responded emotionlessly, “It was closed.” I then headed upstairs before she could make any further remark about my pointless trek, and miserably wasted about three and a half hours before I realised Fajr was approaching.