Firdausi opened her large eyes, ready to face the consequences of fate. Her mom sat next to her, caressing her while she lay on the hospital bed. Everything was white, with that toxic antiseptic smell.
"How do you feel?" asked Zaynab, filled with unexpected concern instead of cruelty. Firdausi was taken aback.
"What's wrong with me?"
"The doctor said you had appendicitis and the surgery went well. They removed your appendix. Luckily, your classmate helped," Zaynab explained.
"I have appendicitis?"
"Yes, but don't worry. You're fine now," Zaynab reassured her, trying to console her.
"Salamualaikum," greeted Islam, walking in with a basket of food. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine. Alhamdulillah, just weak and tired," Firdausi replied with effort.
"Don't worry, you'll regain your strength. You're always our strong feeble girl," Islam said, dropping the basket.
Later in the evening, Firdausi woke up to see Islam arranging her bed while she slept.
"Thanks, Yaya, for everything," she murmured softly.
"You're welcome, Firdausi. Just please don't make us worry like this again," Islam said, covering her with the duvet.
Just then, Fatima walked in wearing Ankara and a scarf, carrying a bag of energy drinks. "Salamualaikum."
"Wa alaikumussalam," they replied simultaneously.
"Let me give you some privacy," Islam said, walking out of the room.
"How do you feel, sweetie?" asked Fatima while fondling her hand.
"At least I know that I'm not pregnant," she said sarcastically.
"Yeah, I'm glad you're not pregnant. How are you?"
"I'm stuck in this hospital bed, and the smell is unbearable. I hope to be discharged tomorrow," she complained.
"I thought you were going to die when my mom told me about it," she said in terror but with relief.
"Thank God I'm not dead. I still have a long way to go."
"Insha Allah."
"Yes, Insha Allah."
"What about Afra?" asked Fatima.
"She visited with her mom, but they didn't stay long then left."
"What can I do to keep you less bored?"
"Tell me anything happening in school or anything, it's up to you," she said as they interacted like bosom friends.
She felt less bored and savored their company.
***
Islam stood in front of the mirror, examining the scar on her left arm, reminiscing about how it came to be. It happened when she was just sixteen, going to meet a guy from school. Their connection was mutual, but when Zaynab found out, her anger got the best of her. She threw a glass vase, causing the injury that had to be immediately stitched.
Zaynab's anger issues were harmful, especially for the kids.
Zaynab, after observing Islam for a while, said, "At least don't cause trouble again."
"Mama," Islam responded.
"Why are you dressed? Are you going out?" Zaynab asked, noticing her black velvet gown.
YOU ARE READING
Two Brothers, One Heart (Rewriting)
Romance"He's prince charming and every girl's cliché. He was always there when I cried in the park and consoled me with flowers. He's stoic, bossy, and hot-blooded, yet he offers his nice almond milk vegan coffee after work. I love flowers and coffee, whi...
