01x29 - Episode 29

[bunniefuu]

ENHERAF

-Opening Song by Mohammed Mohy-

EPISODE Twenty-Nine

Special guest appearance by

Lebanese Star Bassem Moghnieh

Habiba!

Yes, daddy! I'm coming right

away, wait for me by the dining table.

Now, close your eyes; I

have a surprise for you!

-Close my eyes too?!

-Yes.

Okay.

-Are they closed?

-Yes, closed.

-No tricks; I can see you!

-Don't worry, they're closed.

-Close them tightly! Very tightly!

-They are.

No, no.

What is this?

Kofta!

No, seriously, what's this?!

Macaroni, daddy!

Yes, I know it's macaroni.

Where did you get it?

Where I got it? I made it myself!

You made this macaroni?!

Yes.

Seriously?!

Yes.

Oh, you've really improved!

Yes, really.

Should I taste it with

high expectations?!

Yes, sure.

No, wait. I almost forgot.

I have a surprise that

will stimulate your appetite.

Show me.

Full mark.

Wow! Bravo, bravo, bravo,

bravo, bravo! Full mark?!

Yes!

You've made my day!

Listen, about a month ago,

my marks weren't that good.

But Hor told me that we'd keep it from

you that time so you wouldn't get upset,

and that I was to study hard to get full

marks on my next one and make you happy.

And here it is!

Bravo for getting the full mark!

Oh, where's your blue hair?

You've just noticed now?!

I took it off two weeks ago!

And why did you do that?

Honestly, it looked

amazing in the catalogue,

and I thought it'd

look even better on me,

but it didn't look that

good when I tried it.

If Hor told me not to have it, I'd have

felt like I'm missing out on something,

and would've been upset.

But now I've tried

it, so it's okay.

Is Hor not coming?

She's still sick. I'll tell you

as soon as she gets better.

It's been too long; I miss her.

Pray for her, dear,

so you can see her.

May you get better

soon, Hor! I miss you!

Daddy, what's Hor suffering from?

I'll go get changed and

come eat because I'm hungry.

You'll keep sitting

like this, my dear?!

What do you want, mother?

I want you to be okay; I'm worried about

you, Abeer. You can't go on like this.

What would you have me

do? Stand up and dance?!

No, but don't stay like

this; it can't be good for you.

Tell you what mother, I can't stand

seeing anyone or listening to anyone.

I just want to be left alone.

I told you, Abeer that I wasn't

feeling good about that Hor at all.

And I told you I felt like I saw her

before, and that I knew her from somewhere.

Until I knew her name was Wesam.

Then I remembered, Wesam

daughter of Abdul Hameed,

who used to be our

neighbor before we moved.

That man, may he rest in

peace, used to help everyone.

I don't know how his

daughter grew up to be like this!

How such a good man could bring such

a criminal to the world, I'll never know!

Please, mother, leave me alone. I

can't stand to hear another word.

Listen to me, you have to eat

something, you can't go on like this!

Here, I made you stuffed vine

leaves and, peppers and eggplants.

Eat something and

I'll leave you alone.

Please, mother, just leave me be!

Oh, God! Okay, I'm leaving

you be! I'm tired of this.

I can't believe you,

Hor, could do all that!

You've fooled me

all those years?!

Why? Why would you

do anything like that?!

Where have you been, man?

I've been trying to reach you

but you're not answering your phone.

Has something happened?

"Has something happened?"?

You're not here at all, Sherif.

Forgive me, Wael, I didn't mean to.

Things have been pretty messed up

these days, and I can't stop thinking.

I know, of course. This is why

I came here to be by your side.

How did you know I was here?

Where would you be,

Sherif, other than here?

Don't get me wrong, Sherif, but

I don't like seeing you like this.

It's okay, Wael, it'll pass. What

happened isn't easy to take.

I know. May God help you get

through this and make it easy on you.

But this isn't the Sherif I know. Can

you believe I'm the one telling you this?

And if you don't care about yourself,

think of Habiba, your daughter.

Isn't this the same

Habiba you've always said

there are walls between you

two you're just unable to cross?

That Habiba is in your arms now. Doesn't

this help change the way you see life?

Yes, you're right. I just

can't get over what happened.

I can't do my job.

I feel c*ptive, and as if I was a kid lost

in a vast place he knows nothing about.

Go to her, Sherif.

-Go to whom?

-Go to Hor.

Pay her a visit and talk to her.

Maybe after you sit together and listen

to each other, you'll feel much better.

I would never have

expected what happened, Hor.

How is Habiba?

She was talking

about you yesterday.

She got the full mark

in math, thanks to you.

And by the way, her

hair is back to normal.

Just like you said: Let her try

it, and she'll take it off herself.

I wasn't fair to you. I didn't

know what you were doing.

I miss Habiba! I

miss her so much!

Is she all right, Sherif?

I'm the one not all right,

Hor. I mean "Wesam".

Why, Sherif? Why

are you not all right?

Because I was living with someone

and found out I didn't know her at all.

You wouldn't know how I'm

feeling. Do you know how it feels

to give your soul to someone to find

that they were someone else's entirely?

And why do you

care to know me now?

Because I loved you.

You didn't love

me; you loved Hor.

Who are you then?

Get away from me! Get away from

me! I'm not sick! Get away from me!

Get away from me! Get away from me!

I'm not sick! I'm not sick!

I'm that on whom life has been

really hard until it honed me.

I learned to take back

from it what's mine.

When I was admitted to the

hospital, I was angry and felt defeated.

I looked for anything with which I

could hurt myself, but didn't find any.

Wesam, time for your

medicine. Come on, Wesam.

Go on, swallow it.

Did you swallow

it? Get well soon.

I hated my life, and

I hated my situation.

Do you know how it feels to be

forbidden to close the door to your room?

It means you never feel safe.

It was a nightmare!

Until suddenly everything

changed, and a light appeared to me.

Until what appeared?

The light that

changed my whole life.

How are you doing, Wesam?

Alive.

Why aren't you

taking your medicine?

I'm taking it.

You're taking it?

I saw you throwing it away.

This medicine is for the sick

who need it. I'm not sick! Not sick!

Why doesn't anyone

believe that I'm not sick?!

How do you know if you're sick or not?

Everybody can

decide for themselves.

Unfortunately, a person is the last

one to notice anything about themselves.

If you had a headache, what

would you think its reason was?

My head, of course!

No, wrong.

A headache can come from your

ears, nose, eyes or from the neck.

Do you see now?

If you had a headache, you'd

have accused your head with it,

even though the reason

could be something else.

What do you want

exactly?! Leave me alone!

Sometimes we get

sick without knowing it.

Or think that we have a sickness,

when it's something else entirely.

And and how may one

know if they're sick or not?

They talk to their doctor

and tell him about what's in

their heart, so he's able to help.

-Do you know who your doctor is?

-No, I don't.

I'm your doctor. So, tell

me everything, I'm all ears.

Eyad was nice. He listened to me,

and he paid attention to the details.

And most importantly,

he believed me.

I felt safe with him. I started believing

I was sick and should be treated.

What is it, dude?! Do you

think I'm crazy or what?!

There's no such thing as

"crazy", it's called "being sick".

Okay, and what do I have?!

You have something called

Post-traumatic stress disorder.

Does it mean I could be a danger

to myself, a danger to others?!

You may be a danger to

others. But don't worry.

Listen, the problem was

never about the trauma,

it's about what could

happen to us in its wake.

Trauma has three stages, Wesam.

One, denial:

Surely that didn't happen!

Two, anger:

Why did it happen to me?

Three, acceptance:

Believing it happened, and how I

would get on with my life afterwards.

You are still trapped within

the first two: anger and denial.

And for you to recover,

you need to get past those

two stages to the third one.

Okay, dear?

Relax and enjoy.

I started taking my medicine,

believing that psychotherapy,

like any other form of therapy,

treats us and helps us recover.

Time for your medicine, Wesam.

Get well soon.

Patients in the hospital weren't crazy.

They didn't hit or destroy

stuff, or make any mess.

No. They're very tired people,

exhausted by their inner conflicts,

not with those around them.

People in the hospital were pure;

the smallest thing delighted them,

and the smallest thing could upset them.

In the hospital,

I discovered that the patients

used to be normal people

until they met other people who

hurt, tortured and destroyed them,

and sent them to the hospital.

And those sedatives are what you used

to control the people you k*lled, right?

From my time at the hospital

and my bonds with the patients:

some suffering from agitation,

and some from anger problems.

Those made me an expert.

After a while, I could recognize what

injection sends you to sleep in a minute,

and what makes you

unconscious in seconds.

I started mixing them into new formulas.

Like that pill I gave

Talaat Eldakkak.

All that is okay, could happen.

But what turned you into a criminal?

What I saw was more horrifying than

any horror movie I've ever watched.

Like with Fatima, the Arabic teacher. She

got married, and she loved her husband.

Then she found out

he was a drug dealer.

He made her sell all her

stuff, even her furniture.

And whenever she told him she wanted a

divorce, that she was leaving the house,

he told her he'd spray her face with

nitric acid. She got scared and depressed,

and came to the hospital.

Ragia, for example. Her

father and her uncle had a fight.

When her uncle wanted to

avenge himself, he kidnapped her

and locked her in a room for two

months where she saw no light.

Her father and uncle made

up and went back to normal.

But not Ragia, she

didn't go back to normal.

She acquired a fear, a fear

of having a door closed on her,

and a fear of having

the lights turned off.

She couldn't conquer that

fear, and came to the hospital.

The time I spent at the

hospital made me see

that the oppressed ones

were those in the hospital,

and the psychotic lunatics were

outside, freely living their lives.

What confuses me is how you

can diagnose and treat patients,

and talk about medicine,

to the point of becoming a famous doctor,

despite originally being a patient.

Curiosity.

It caused me not to be satisfied with just

knowing the patients and their stories.

It made me seek

knowledge about their conditions.

What Reham has is depression, Dr. Eyad?

No, depression means

isolation and lethargy.

To have no energy for doing

anything however small it might be.

What Reham has, on the other

hand, is called schizophrenia.

Right, you told me before. It means

having two different personalities, right?

No, schizophrenia means

having thoughts that are not real.

Like believing that people are watching

him, or that people persecute him.

He loses the ability to

distinguish reality from fantasy.

This music is so beautiful,

doctor. I love it. What's it called?

Firstly, this music is composed by

someone called Loreena McKennitt.

And it's called Tango to Evora.

By the way, even people working with

music may have psychological disorders.

Beethoven, for example, whom you must

know. He had Bi-polar Personality Disorder.

I know Beethoven, I've heard of

him. But I don't know this illness.

What is it, doctor?

This illness makes one's mood swing

from extreme right to extreme left.

Meaning I'm so sad, and

suddenly become so happy?

For example, yes.

Oh, those psychological disorders

aren't easy at all, Dr. Eyad!

Hmm, can you talk to me

and tell me about them a lot,

so I can take care of

myself when I'm feeling bad?

Do you promise to keep

it a secret between us?

Of course.

Okay.

And one more thing, if I may.

What is it?

Could you give me

a CD of this music?

Sure, I'm glad you like it.

It'll open.

Here you go!

Thank you!

I used to spend the night dancing.

Dancing and enjoying myself,

while feeling I'm restoring

all those patients' rights.

The rights of all the oppressed women

who had no one to look after them.

I left Wesam's weak character, and began

to see myself in other strong characters,

like Solafa's,

Huda's or Zekra's.

I used to dance a lot by myself. And

sometimes Eyad would dance with me.

But when I did a spin, I'd find

that he was not there anymore.

I loved him. I loved him a

lot, and told him I loved him.

And I wish I didn't.