💎 Z A Y N 💎

02

'I Knew You Were Trouble' - Taylor Swift

Unedited

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"ZAYN! ZAYN! Challo utho! Tera ek letter aya hai. Zara dekh. Aray chal uth!" shouted Zayn's mum as she barged into his room. Shereen sighed - her son slept like a corpse. Waking him up was one difficult task.
(Come on get up! A letter came for you. Take a look. Hey come on up you get!)
"If you aren't up by the time I count to five, I shall pour water on you, sacchi!" she hollered. (Honestly!)

This awoke Zayn quickly - his mother's threats weren't to be taken lightly. He rolled out of bed, dashing about his room to grab his uniform and legged it to the shower. Once under the lukewarm water he sighed in contentment. The whole week consisted of tensions between his friends, community service and catching up on coursework.

He looked at his reflection. His silver-grey eyes once filled with mirth were dull, emotionless. He had scars in his brows, his stubble giving him a haggard look. He'd lost weight- his cheekbones seemed to protrude and the edge of his jawline was sharp. He even thought his nose looked more pointy. Possibly due to the increasing number of lies he had been spewing. The ends of his thick wavy hair tickled the bottom of his neck, causing him to shiver and close his eyes.

When was the last time he read Quran or visited the Masjid? He barely got by praying 5 times daily. He was so distracted he didn't even need to fast to control his sexual urges. He wasn't married so all he could do was suppress it and distract himself - that's right no porn or masturbation. When he fasted, all he could solely think of satisfying was his hunger, not desires. He made sure to pretend to put food in his bag in the mornings so no one would sus out he was fasting - he was still brought up in a conservative household after all. Now being distracted by his fights, he didn't have time to think of anything, he came home only to collapse on his bed. He didn't give a flying fvck anymore.

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"Beta, you took so long that I opened your letter from your college. Acha jaldi nashta ka phir isko par," voiced Ammi. (Dear), (Okay quickly have your breakfast then read this) (Mum).
Zayn grabbed four french toast with tea and unfolded the paper. It read:

"Milton High Sixth Form College is proud to announce they will hosting an International Day this year! For the next month we will be celebrating all the different cultures of our college students and staff with a break from studies. All courses and lessons will be put on hold for the duration of this exciting event! The main building is now repaired and all students are to report there...."

Zayn stopped reading there. All he could think of was the month-long break from his studies. Heck, he wasn't as connected to his culture as his parents would like him to be but he wasn't a coconut- brown on the outside and white on the inside. He spoke and understood Pashto moderately, due to his father's Pashtun roots, as with Panjabi from his Panjabi mother. He could also read and write in Urdu as he was Pakistani and learnt 2 languages: Arabic for he was Muslim and Farsi as his school required him to learn a language and this was the easiest considering the languages he already knew. At hone his sisters and parents often wore Asian clothes- he wore them every  for every Jumuah (Friday prayer) too. They also mostly ate Desi food at home and spoke in their native languages sometimes too as their mother insisted. She even hung up a Chinese proverb quoting,

"To forget ones ancestors is to be a brook without a source, a tree without root."

So whatever assignment they may have for this he knew he'd ace it. He could finally relax and sort out the tensions in his life and get his shît together.