بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم.
On every page that you turn,
Is a benefit that you learn,
For Muslims it is fiction,
But for sincere ones it is a step towards Al-Mannān,
It is refutation of the books that are called 'Muslim Fiction'.
Mu'awiyah Holmes, thi...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
It took me fifteen more minutes to reach the school.
I prayed to whoever was above to help me out in this situation. If it was professor Newton's class, no doubt he'd take this all the way to the principle's office and I could kiss one week of school goodbye. Not that I minded getting suspended, but being at home was more critical at this moment.
Taking a deep breath, I took my books from the locker and walked to my class.
I was never relieved to see someone as much as I was to see professor Hassan standing by the board once I reached the class.
I gave a slight knock to get his attention. Each pair of eyes focused on me, from my peripheral vision, I could see their eyes widening.
I internally snorted. It wasn't like my first time being late. I was the bad boy anyway. That description seemed to not fit me anymore, honestly.
"Michael. You're awfully late today." Professor Hassan stated with an eyebrow raised.
I scratched the back of my neck, "Hey prof, well...I am" I shrugged, unable to come up with anything to save my *****.
"I hope you have a valid reason for being this late." Professor Hassan said.
"I have a very valid reason, I promise" I replied without missing a beat.
"Then go take a seat." Professor Hassan nodded at me. My respect for this man just increased tenfold.
"Thanks Prof" I genuinely said before walking to my seat.
Sitting down, I threw my best glare at few students who wouldn't stop staring at me as if I had grown two heads. Stupid students.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
"What?" I hissed, turning my head to glare at John. He was seated right behind me.
"You're screwed" He snapped, quietly.
"I have enough monsters to eat me alive. Be one if you want" I snapped back, not even hiding the frustration that was building up inside me. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't shake my fear.
"John, Michael. Pay attention" Professor Hassan called out.
"Sorry" I mumbled, turning my attention back on the front.
"You're pissed. Everything okay?" John whispered after moments. He must have noticed my mood considering the concern in his tone.
I just hummed in reply, my eyes on the board.
After ten minutes of looking at the board and scribbling down the notes, the bell rang.
Today, I guess was not my day. My mind kept drifting to my father and his future reaction if he ever found out about today. He will surely find out though, which makes it all the more hard and scary. However, I will never regret helping Marwan, if anything like this were to happen again, I'd jump to help him in a heartbeat. A pissed father or not. These thoughts did nothing to subside the building frustration inside me. When I was upset or scared of my father, I always ended up with a bruised fist. Because it just all reminded me how my father would never be happy with me no matter what I did. My father had always strictly disciplined me as a kid, so much so that I cannot help feeling scared when he became angry.
