The email that was sent 5 years ago comes into view everytime she opens up her inbox.

Why is she torturing herself like this? Refreshing the page every day even though she knows nothing will ever change? That there'll be no notification telling her that it's finally been replied?

In all honesty, she doesn't know. She never will. Perhaps its the stubbornness and resiliency she takes from her mother, or perhaps she's just an optimistic idiot. 

It's been 5 years, and there's still nothing. Nada, naught, nil, zilch. Absolutely nothing.

Yet, she still checks the email everyday. Somehow, she feels that if she doesn't, she has failed as their child. Seeing her mother's indignant look had already shattered any hopes left of becoming her daughter. She tells her to not tell the family, for her father's fury will spread to them, without a doubt. That would be the last thing that she wants. After all, she's only telling her mum after being at the other side of the world in fear of the wrath that her father would certainly unleash upon her.

If she only gets disowned, that'll be lucky. She knows her dad well, though. He would surely kill her given the chance.

She finally closes the inbox, swallowing away the bitter taste of disappointment. Maybe she should be cynical and realistic like Garvey. Then she would stop feeling so dejected by an empty inbox.

It sucks.

It sucks so bad, but she misses and worries for them.

It's good that she memorised her mum's bank account number. She always banks in money when she can. Mainly to ease off her guilt, but she did promise to her mum to do so back when she was still her son.

She promised a lot of things, and she keeps them at heart. She takes care of her dignity, never misses her prayers, averts her eyes when seeing things that tempt her, gives careful consideration to what she says and never listens to gossips and mindless talks.

She looks at the cream-coloured khimar flowing against her chest. She also keeps her word about her aurat. Maybe not in the same sense her mum was expecting. She was talking about navel to knees, not head to toe.

She smiles wistfully. Her mum did say she's always the surprising one in the family.

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She opens her inbox again, the wide white space mocking her. Yet another Eid is gonna pass with nothing. What kind of daughter is she?775Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvUkkJB6rkW
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The terrible kind, of course. But maybe it's time to stop the guilt eating away her soul.

She takes a deep breath, and shuts down her laptop.

And tomorrow, maybe she'll finally wake up to a reply.