Beauty Star

Chapter 22

           (Unedited)

Nigeria, Kaduna State.
16th August, 2019.

Zulekha heard a knock but didn't bulge from where she sat. The door creaked a jar and he came in. It was Ya Ahmad.

She looked up at him and he smiled, a tired smile. He was dressed in a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans. His eyes were looking dull and the dark circles were visible, indicating he hasn't slept for days now. His hair was a mess too.

Without a word, he opened his arms for her. Reluctantly, she stood up from her sitting position and went into his embrace.

   "I miss him so much" Her lips trembled as she spoke. He turned away as his eyes welled up with tears. "We all miss him."

    "Baba is Downstairs, he's waiting for you." He conveyed Baba's message and left. She wore her navy blue knee length hijab and descended the stairs.

She met Baba downstairs, he answered her greeting and gestured for her to follow him and she did, She followed him outside, they passed through the garden to the BQ and when they stopped in front of that room, that one room that everyone was stopped from going, She gawked at the room and couldn't move an inch not even when Baba used the keys to unlock the door.

"Bismillah" Baba said and she followed him into the room. It was an ordinary room, a plain room without furnitures, nothing special about it except so much dust. An old box was lying carelessly across the room and Baba used his left hand to open it bringing out a thing.

She stared at it and get to know it was a journal with a red hard cover.  He passed it to her and brought out other few contents. It was a burgundy pashmina veil, a clean ash baby shawl, tiny hair bands and toys.

Unwillingly, Zulekha collected all the contents. "Go with it." Baba simply said and Zulekha nodded. He dusted off his hands and followed behind her.

She ambulated upstairs, nobody was downstairs. Everyone must be in his room wallowing in pain.

She dropped the journal on the bedside drawer and kept the contents on the bed. Folding the duvet that was carelessly thrown across the room. She sat on the vanity stool, putting her left hand on her chin.

She glanced at the contents on the bed, the pashmina faded, the baby shawl looks brand new and the tiny hair bands in different colors looks dim. Some of the toys are broken.

Baba gave her this without saying anything. Examining the contents again, it's definitely hers. She thought.

She averted her gaze to the red hardcover journal. Whatever is written in there definitely has to do something with her. She felt exhilarated.

But Is she ready to go through it?

The euphoric feeling she just felt was replaced with a sorrowful feeling.

Without a second thought, she picked up the contents and dropped them in the wardrobe. She brushed her fingers over the journal. If only Ya Faruq is here, she wouldn't be in this position. Contemplating.

Zulekha pulled out a jotter that was underneath her pillow. Boldly, she wrote; "Ya Faruq." And a tear slipped on the writing. She stubbornly wiped it away.

It hurts so much Ya Faruq. Days turn into night, nights turn into days & nothing changes, the pain doesn't go away, the Emptiness in the daytime is as loud as it is in the night.

Ya Faruq, I won't see your smile and I won't hear you laugh anymore. Every night I won't see you walk through that door just to check up on me. Even though Ya Ahmad and Ya Umar are really trying, your twin especially. I see you in him.

I will never forget you. I will never let you out of my heart. You will always be here with me as I will hold on to the memories.

Who is going to tell me everything is going to be fine
Who is going to assure me everything is going to be alright when i am scared Or confused or lost.

Somewhere I know you'll be with me. Someday in another time. But right now you're gone. You just vanished away without a proper goodbye.
Lord knows no day has passed without me shedding tears. And more tears are to come.

You were my light at the end of every tunnel. Ya Allah, the memories keep flooding in.

Zulekha pulled her legs up to her chest and cried out. A soft knock came and she knew who it was. Ya Umar definitely. He developed a habit of knocking and talking softly unlike before that it was always loud and harsh.

She cleared off her tears and let him in. He was wearing a chinos trouser and a long sleeve shirt. The sleeves were moulded over his arms.

      "He needs your endless prayers not those tears." Ya Umar said, standing adjacent to the vanity table.

She nodded and stood up from her position, picking up the cotton wool that was on the vanity table. She dabbed away the tears but it didn't seem to stop.

      "Zulekha." He called and when she looked up, their eyes met as they look at each other's reflection in the mirror.

    "Do you know that even when you're crying you're beautiful too?"

And Zulekha chuckled outwardly. Is this really her worst nightmare?

He also smiled triumphantly and sat on the bedside drawer, pushing away the journal. "Oh wow! What do we have here?" He asked turning the journal over. "A diary, perhaps."

Zulekha just stared at him with an unwavering gaze and she didn't stop him when he opened up the next page. His eyes scanned the first page for few seconds and he looked up at her. "Is this for Mama?"

     "what happened?" She asked eagerly.

He turned the journal around and she peered back into it, trying to comprehend what was written. It was a very rough handwriting.

    My name is Amina and this is my story.

*******

Salamu Alaikum my beautiful readers!!! How're you all doing? Ramadan Mubarak! May Allah answer our prayers....Amin.

Our worst nightmare is being nice 😌

Who's eagerrrr to read Amina's story??? Causeeee i am honestly.

Is this Amina Mama or is it another Aminaaaaa?

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