He wanted to hate her, to shred her faith viciously before he lost himself in her eyes again.
* * * *
Amira had a dysfunctional family, an older brother who was far from the ideal and parents constantly on his case. The stakes are raised high for Am...
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Amira Sarker
Damon unexpectedly left. I felt a tug on my heart throughout the whole day. As much as I would hate to admit it, I missed Damon. I couldn't like him though. If I started admitting my feelings for Damon they would only get stronger. I couldn't take that risk.
I knew Damon would never understand how I felt. He wouldn't understand the decision of choosing my religion or him. As much as my mind and body wanted to leap into Damon's arms and kiss him senseless, I knew I couldn't.
Deep in my heart it felt wrong. In my heart, I felt the remembrance of Allah, knowing that my ongoing courtship with Damon in such circumstances only left me more vulnerable to a broken heart.
I shouldn't have even talked to Damon secretly, but somehow shaytan (satan) got a hold of me. He whispered and whispered and now I was in too deep, unless I stopped everything now.
The whispers taunted my mind like a damaged record player, whining from overuse and laughing at my foolish mistake.
I mentally groaned. Damon relied on our friendship as much as I did. He trusted me with secrets and feelings he'd die before admitting to anyone else. My insides suddenly felt like fire. My heart burned against my chest as I felt the constriction of pain in this life. It was like a warning.
I shook the feeling off. I'm Amira Sarker. I can handle this. I can make Damon move on and still be intact with my faith. Everything is going to work out, I reassured myself.
These days, I wasn't so sure anymore, but I knew that I had to try. I had to keep Allah as my priority, my deen (religion) as my focus. This life was temporary, a speck of dust compared to the endless amounts of joy in Jannah (Paradise).
Surely, those who struggle in this life were given the greatest blessings afterwards. I just had to keep my head on and my hormones away from logistics.
* * * *
I took a bus straight to the hospital. Nanu's condition was getting worse. His once colorful eyes were now dull and blank, swirling with a masked pain.
The man I saw five years ago was happy and optimistic. The man on the bed was depressed and ill, his condition overtaking his entire life, and leaving him in the wake of something worse. How could five years do this much to a person both emotionally and physically?
It made me wonder. Could this happen to me after letting Damon go? As I walked into the hospital, I digged into my bag for my journal. I felt nothing, panic suddenly arising.
My eyes widened as I paused my steps and frantically looked in my bag. Oh Allah, where could that journal be? I wrote in that journal since I was in third grade. It meant a lot to me and reminded me what I learned about life in the past. That journal was my life written in ink and numerous linguistic puzzles; I couldn't just lose it.
