Inevitable Flaw

Chapter 23: Shackled Wrists

A/N- After Fajr prayer, around 10 to 20 minutes after sunrise, if any one prays two Raka'ahs of Ishraq, it may be equivalent to the rewards  from performing Hajj and Umrah. This is incredible considering it literarily takes like two minutes to do! Also, Tahajjud prayer begins in the midnight when one wakes up and can be performed at midnight or any time at night before the Fajr Salah. At this time, Allah listens and fulfills every wish an individual does at midnight since he comes on the first sky. Tahajjud prayer has 12 Rakats or more or less if one wants. It's like easy bonus points!

Take a couple of minutes to watch the video above, it is very moving and will benefit you In Sha Allah.

Thank you for the continuous support and leaving comments and voting. Enjoy the chapter, hope you like it! I also hope you have an amazing day! xx

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By the time I pull up into the parking lot, the sky is still a hue of orange and red splattered in the loveliest contrast over the still dimmed morning atmosphere. I clutch my hot tea in one hand and bring my jacket closer to my body with the other. It is slightly chilly outside but wonderful regardless.

"Hey Betsy, can I go in?" I ask the front desk lady that I have become very close to within these past two weeks. Her beautiful dark curls bobble up as she looks up from her computer. She looks a little tired but her smile doesn't give it away as clearly.

"He's still in a bit of a mood sweetie, but we can go see if he is going to be friendly," she says warmly.

I gulp down the lump forming in my throat and follow her little body towards his room. It is still dark in the hallways but a couple of lights here and there allow some visualization of a path. Betsy has told me that my father likes to wake up extremely early to pray, which is an exceptional blessing considering he has forgot almost all of his past prior to his place in this very hospital.

The day I saw his loss of memory in action was still nipping at me every second of the day because of the trauma it compiled. Adam had fought with the doctors for not recovering my father's memory, which he and I both knew was a fruitless argument, but he continued pushing them to the edge after he had seen me crying. It went on for a long time, with my head bent down between my legs and the blood rushing to my eyes. I had just sat there in that position and listened to their bickering back and forth, with Adam showing no respect whatsoever.

"I'm sure you tried your best. I can see you working hard right now what with you taking coffee breaks every five seconds, when you could be out there making something happen. " Adam had yelled sarcastically.

But he wasn't done yet. His voice literarily roared through my eardrums and it scared me a little.

"Stop bringing up the whole astonishing recovery and him having fought it beyond the five month period. You haven't done anyone here a favour besides giving them false hope and feeding them lies. It's pathetic that you are only here for the loads of cash you collect for doing dead shit."

I wanted to stop him from being rude but I couldn't make the effort to do it. I knew I was angry but I didn't no who this fury was pushed towards and I knew blaming the doctors was irrational. It just wouldn't solve anything. It was a test again, an extremely indescribably painful one, but up to this point, I was strong enough to handle it. I knew I wasn't right now, but I would grip onto some resilience soon enough.

Adam was in a full season of rage and I found it intriguingly nice that he would feel so strongly about this.

I remember that I had heard Aasif come out a while after this back and forth.

"Adam, there is no point," he had said, the defeat thick in his voice.

I had often wondered why he never told any of us about his implausible win against the most well played soccer team. I had seen a picture he was tagged in on Facebook but he made no mention of it. Now, I can tell that he has slightly given up. I had seen through his eyes once he arrived into his hospital bed following me telling him so, that he had spaced out of reality. His recent distant behaviour around the house showcased this as did his often absence from home. It made me realize how little he cared about his accomplishment at that game because he was some how not seeing the point in it perhaps. I knew that my father was the main motivation for him through out all his games and the only one that shared the same interests as him, so this happening to my father had affected him probably more than it did mama and me combined. But of course, he had an incredibly weird way of expressing it.