Part 2
The inquest was closed and the verdict was accidental death. The driver of the car hadn't had a chance to brake, Amira had run out too quickly. There were a few witnesses who spoke backing up the driver's account of the incident.
Syed had sat down with his parents and listened intently to the whole proceedings. As he sat in the family car going back to the Square, he felt numb. It wasn't right that Amira was dead and he was still here able to go about doing his job, going out, living his life when she would never have that chance again. His mum and dad were talking quietly in the front of the car but he let their words wash over him. Suddenly he realised his mum was calling his name.
"Syed I was talking to you."
"Sorry mum what did you say?"
"We thought you should come back to ours tonight, I can cook up your favourite meal and you should stay over."
"I need to get back to work mum."
"After work then come round for dinner. You shouldn't be on your own tonight."
"I'm fine mum really, don't fuss."
Zainab looked at Syed and decided to let it go. She looked helplessly at Masood who took her hand and said "just leave him for now Zee" so she turned back round to face the front. Masood glanced in the rear mirror at Syed who looked like he was miles away again. He was resting his head against the window and his eyes looked tired and drawn. Masood wished he could help Syed through this time but didn't know how to. He didn't blame Syed for Amira's death but it was the revelation of what had happened between him and Christian that made her upset and run out the way she did. He knew Syed blamed himself totally and no amount of arguing was going to change that.
The car stopped outside Syed's flat and he got out and waved to his parents "thanks" and headed into his flat. He had to go to the Unit in a while. He looked at a picture of him and Amira on their wedding day that his mum had put up on the cabinet. She was beaming happily into the camera and she looked like the princess he had always called her. She had deserved better than him and he should have been truthful sooner. The guilt was eating away at him again, every day it seemed to be getting worse. He needed to suffer, he wanted to but he didn't know how. Amira had suffered terribly because of him and it was what he deserved. The police wouldn't put him in jail so he would have to punish himself.
He suddenly had an idea. He went into the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer searching until he found what he was looking for. The knife he chose was small but had a sharp blade and he knew it would work. He hesitated but then an image came into his mind of Amira lying injured on the ground and he knew what to do. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and lifted up the knife and pressed the blade next to the skin high on his arm.