Project Muslimah [COMPLETED]

Lesson Thirty-Seven: Taking Responsibility

Assalamu Alaikum warahmtullahi wabarakaatuhu,  

Hold onto your prayers and pray it as soon as you can. Please. 

So yeah the story's coming to an end, and to be honest.... I'm actually sad. I'm going to miss writing about Amarah. I hope you learn from her that: 

No, you do not need a man to be happy. 

And no, not every man that shows up first in your life is the one and only. 

And also, that your actions make you who you are in the eyes of people, and your intention make you who you are in front of Allah, the Almighty. 

And also, that your friends are people that define you. If your friends aren't who you are, there's a 50% chance they might change you for the worst. And there's also a 50% chance that you might change them for the better. But you must not let your friendship ruin your link with Allah (swt). 

And lastly, believe in the Qadr of Allah, and your life will feel as light as a feather and every hardship will be so small compared to your happiness. You're blessed because Allah loves you, so love Him back. He will always be there for you. 

And NO, this is not the last chapter... this is just me getting overly emotional. I love you all for the sake of Allah, the most high, and the most merciful. 

Assalamu Alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakaatuhu, my lovely readers. 

Amarah 

I wasn't the smartest girl in the house apparently. Jannah outsmarted me in every way possible. She got to a mess before I ever did, and made it even messier than before. Which meant I had to do double the work. 

"Are you going to work?" My dad's mom asked me. I nodded, and started cleaning up the mess Jannah made with the peanut butter bottle. "Then get to work." She said, taking the sponge from me. "I'll take care of it." She said. I grinned, and kissed her on the cheek. 

"I love you!" I said, as I started to grab my hand bag. She frowned but kept her insults back. She wasn't really good with expressing her feelings. And it took me quite a while to figure that out. Like I said, Jannah got to these things before I ever did. Jannah had her in a hug before any of us could. But she had the advantages of being a baby, and a cute one at that. My two grandmothers fought every time they were in the same room, but yet they'd agree on things even their children could never agree on.  

"Amarah!" My mom called from upstairs. I was probably already late. "Hurry up and come upstairs!" She said. I dropped my bag and went upstairs. 

"What's wrong?!" I asked her, as I entered the room. The phone was beside her. 

"I just got a call from your dad." She said. 

"So what happened?" I asked her, afraid that something had gone wrong. The look on her face wasn't the look of good news. She was staring at me concerned. And I stared back at her confused. "Mom?" I asked. Her face lit up and a grin spread across her face. 

"Can I know your final answer?" She asked. 

"Final answer?" I asked. For what? "You mean for Ilyas?" I asked her. She nodded. 

"Do you want to marry him?" She asked. I paused. Then I gave her a look. 

"Why are you asking this right now?" I asked. 

"Is your answer not ready?" My mom asked. I shook my head. 

"It is... but what did Ilyas say?" I asked.