It's dark. Murky dark.

But Maha has been in here for quite some time so she gets accustomed to the darkness.

She seems to be at the bottom of an empty well, given the cylindrical wall encompassing her and the depth. Although, providing she has never been inside a well before, it is hard to be sure.

The sky is blanketed by cumulus grey clouds. Despite the depth of the dingy well, Maha can smell the impending rain. The thought steals into her mind that, if the rain water fills the well, she is going to drown. Instantly, panic pulses in the pit of her stomach. Her heart rate escalates as though trying to cover the record of a lifetime of beats. Just then, the brief illumination of a lightning allows her to spot an iron ladder. She scuttles over to it. Grasping and stepping on one rung at a time, she begins to ascend.

Maha is nowhere near halfway up when, unluckily, a downpour commences. She struggles her way up, undeterred by her rain-soaked clothes weighing her down. Every time a clap of thunder sounds, she freezes and screws her eyes shut momentarily before resuming her clamber. Frigid wind adds to the relentless rain, biting and slashing at her mercilessly. But Maha persists to the top.

Just as she grips the final rung, she misses her footing and lets out a yelp. However, Maha does not drop to her death, for a hand firmly secures around her wrist.

"Hang on." her savior mutters. "I got you."

The downpour abates and a bright flash of lightning lights up his face to only permit Maha a glimpse. As Maha is hauled up, they both tumble down, she on top of him, panting and gasping for breath and both soaked to their skin. Maha swiftly gets off from him. After a couple of awkward beats of silence and snatching glances at each other, Maha is the first to break the ice with a laugh. The boy grins.

"Thanks. I owe you big time." Maha says before a look of curiosity takes over her face. "But how did you know someone was in there?" She asks, motioning to the well.

"That," the boy says, hoisting himself up to his full height, "is a good question."

The sky gradually clears, bringing forth the opportunity to get a vivid look at the boy. But then, without prior notice, everything starts to swirl and distort, including Maha and the boy with the grey eyes.

Maha's eyes fly open and the first thing she sees is the realistic-seeming, hideous, emaciated, scabby-faced ghoul, wearing a psychotic grin with a red pupil staring from it's black sclera right at Maha. As soon as the image registers in Maha's mind, she produces a shriek and tumbles off her bed.

Tan strips off the mask and erupts into a side-splitting laughter. "And that, my dear friends, is how I paid back my best friend for what she did to me on the morning of last Monday, third of Feb, 2015."

Now, what Tan hasn't been expecting is Maha getting up and laughing her head off as well before shuffling closer to where Tan's phone is positioned on her bookshelf, filming them.

"And that, my dear friends, is how I hoodwinked my best friend into thinking that she actually scared me. Thanks for watching! See you guys in the next episode, In Sha Allah. Until then, Assalamu Alaikum Warahmatullahi Wa Barakatuh."

Maha taps on the red circle on the phone's screen, thereby stopping the video recording.

"Now, that was an interesting start to the day." Maha says after stifling a yawn. When she swivels around she catches Tan, shrouded in a black abaya that had been part of her costume and scowling at her. She grins at her in return. "How did I know? If you had lived twenty years playing pranks and pulling stunts, you would've known it too. Sort of like a sixth sense."

"So, I've gotta wait twenty years to avenge my sleep." Tan grumbles.

"You couldn't sleep because of me?" Maha asks innocent incredulity, placing a hand over her heart for dramatic effect.

"See these Louise Vuitton bags under my eyes?" Tan points at her countenance. "All thanks to someone snoring like a corpse."

"Correction girlfriend, corpses don't snore. They're too dead for that. Also, you love me."

"That is so besides the issue."

"Exactly. Anyways, what did I do to you last Monday morning?"

Tan rolls her eyes. "You reset your alarm clock to twenty minutes faster than actual New York time."

"Oh. That." It is evident that Maha is trying not to dissolve into laughter again.

What happened was this: Maha's mother persuaded Tan to sleepover out of her own goodwill since it was already past eleven o'clock at night by the time she and Maha had finished their assignment and Mrs Ayat didn't think it would be safe for her go home by herself at that late hour. Despite Tan telling Mrs Ayat that she is a seasoned pro in Karate and can dislocate someone's arm within the span of a minute, convincing the latter is what she is quite far from being a pro at. So Tan eventually ended up staying the night. The next morning the girls had their basketball practice which was solely why Maha had reset the time on her alarm clock as the perks of being fashionably late was beginning to wear out these days- parents never understood this trend and all any student ever achieved from it was detention anyways. Unfortunately, she forgot to tell her best friend about it and Tan, thinking they were late, had panicked to the point that made Maha laugh hysterically and feel profoundly guilty at the same time.

-

Imagine someone giving you a pair of socks for every occasion. It's a good dream, isn't it? Socks are essential and we never seem to have enough. Unlike the mindsets of poking aunties who believe you need to start husband hunting the minute you step into adolescence, a guy is the last thing Maha needs in her disorganized series of organized mess- also known as her life. Sadly, we don't live in a sock-gifting utopia and so Maha has to put up with her exasperating morning ritual of playing hide and seek with this pair of garments on a daily basis, which brings forth the apparently hopeless person in her.

"There's a Dobby hiding in the house, I'm sure of it! Or else how can three pairs of socks vanish in the same week?!"

Tan shakes her head as she straps on her wristwatch. "But it could've been that cheeky yet cute little monkey of Aladdin's. What was his name? Abdul?"

"Abu." Maha replies with a laugh. "Don't forget Puss in Boots!"

"At this point I won't be at all surprised if you write a letter to Sherlock Holmes, requesting an investigation!"

"Ooh, brilliant idea Tan! Although, I think I should wait for the mystery to get more crazy to give Mr Holmes something befitting his caliber."

After Maha gives a last sweeping glance under her bed for the latest missing pair of socks, but in vain, she skips downstairs with Tan at her wake.

"Assalamu Alaikum!" the girls chorus in unison as they materialize in the living room.

"Walaikum Assalam!" Saad and Amal, Maha's parents, as well as Kaif, her younger brother, reply.

Amal and Kaif are seating next to each other. Maha and Tan occupy the seats opposite. Saad is at the head of the table.

"Maha Ifa Ayat. You're on your last year of uni. Can't you trade at least part of your happy-go-lucky attitude into being more serious?" Amal says, pointing a spoon at Maha and with her other hand on her hip, in a mentor-like voice.

Saad throws her daughter a discreet what-did-you-do-this-time look. Maha shrugs.

Maha mentally skims over her recent lightweight crimes that include getting the porch dirty with her muddy sneakers, stuffing her stomach with brownies in the dead of night... Maybe it's the brownies. Maybe they were made for a special occasion? Oops. Three out of seven pieces goes missing overnight and one of the two prime suspects is sitting calmly at the head of the table, sipping coffee. Kaif is not a late-night snacker.

"Pop, whatever it is, you're gonna help me." Maha mutters to her dad.

"Crime partner Pop is unavailable right now. Please try again later or leave a message. Beep." Saad says in a whispered version of the intonation of a voicemail.

Amal stares at the duo with a raised eyebrow.

"My dear old tomato," She says to her husband, "do behave yourself I'd rather turn you to ketchup."

"May I ask what that means?"

Since you don't like ketchup, that's suppose to be an extreme threat to you." Maha translates.

"I hate that I know what that means."

Basically, Maha's parents had a tiff last night about dinner. Saad has a grudge against ketchup since an unforgettable incident that occurred when he was in his teens and Amal was absolutely determined to put it in the meat-balls she was making and that's how it instigated from there. Maha and Kaif had shoved it aside like a normal domestic spat which would blow off in a matter of time but things didn't turn around even now.

When Amal drifts to the kitchen to the dump the dirty dishes into the sink, Saad picks a banana from the fruit basket and brandishes it into the air. Replacing his previous facial expression with a solemn one and his husky voice in a meant-to-be whisper he mutters, "With little bit of sugar and a little bit of spice, turn my wife from mean to nice!"

As soon as Amal's returning footsteps are heard Saad quickly retreats his arm and starts peeling the banana as though he's about to eat it.

"So like I was saying Maha, I hope you plan to improve yourself." Amal says. "I can explicitly recall this particular remark from one of your profs. She said and I quote– 'she would've made a very bright student with a promising future only if she didn't pretend to take notes on her smart-phone while featuring her Candy Crush addiction.' "

Oh, so it's not about the brownies. Phew.

Maha is inclined to think that this comment concerning her is from Professor Lopez. She has been on her case for a while now.

"Cripes. Did she say pretend because I'm sure what she meant was that I intend to take notes on my phone but whenever I unlock the screen the evil, magnetic force of Candy Crush drags my finger to the formidable game as I strive to be free. But alas, I lose as the irresistible attraction conquers my nerve cells."

"Maha, don't insult my intelligence."

"Sorry, mother. That really was not my intention." Maha says, adopting her best somber tone. "But the game is like mental sugar to me. It has helped survive critical degrees of boredom-"

Saad, unable to withstand his wife's tacit daggers, now clears his throat and says, "You listen to your mom, Maha." he sips his coffee and adds, "Look at me. I control my diet so well I'm probably the most fit man in the neighborhood."

Amal remarks with a scoff, "Habibi, you're three sugary bites of cupcake away from being fat."

Saad gives a theatrical gasp and Maha, Kaif and Tan laugh at the comical exchange.

"Sis, I'm gonna get late for school if we don't leave now." Kaif says to Maha.

"Yes, yes, I'm done." Maha says, inhaling the last toast on her plate. She then stands up and loops her bag on one shoulder and Tan mirrors her.

"Hold on, young lady." Amal says. "I believe I have something of yours."

Amal fishes into her apron's pocket and brings out a pair of grey socks.

"Oh, I was looking crazily for them! Thanks!" As Maha reaches to grab the socks, Amal retreats her hand right on time.

"Guess where I found them?" When Maha stares at her mother with a pout, Amal sighs. "Next time you're smuggling food, try not to leave any traces behind."

Busted.