Fix me (COMPLETED) #Wattys2016

Chapter Twenty Two

I get up and make my way to the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror, noticing the dark circles around my eyes, my disheveled midnight curls. But most prominently, I notice how lifeless my eyes look. The fear is always lurking behind. Shame is something I always see when I look at myself in the mirror. Shame, disgust, dishonor, damaged goods. Unfixable.

But no more.

I need my faith back. I need to make allah happy with me again. He (swt) is the only one who could help me. He is the most forgiving. The most helpful.

I take one last look at myself in the mirror before I glance away and start making wudu.

Yes wudu. Something that has been way back in my head for the last couple of weeks. Ever since the fire. It's something that's been long forgotten because of how hectic my life has become.

It's no excuse Layla.

I finish up and make my way back into the bedroom, I open my duffel bag and take out my (sajjada) prayer mat and a hijab. I direct the mat facing the qibla (Kaaba) and fall to my knees barely being able to put on my hijab on before uncontrollable sobs rack through my body. I try to silent my loud cries, careful not to wake Melak up but I can't. I just can't.

I'm helpless in front of my god. Powerless.

I kneel down, opening up my heart to the only one I'm in need of.

My god. My Rabb.

The world around me fades away as I pray the daily prayers with tears running down my face. I don't know how and when I finished, I just did.

I sit there, staring at the wall in front of me, unmoving. Ashamed of myself for my unthankfulness.
How could I be so selfish? So immature and forgetful?

Tears continue to run down my face, but I stay unmoving. Who knew I had it in me to cry this much.

Enough. I scold myself.

I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, I refix my hijab and pick up the holy Quran with my right hand, remembering a Hadith my mom once told me.

I open it randomly and stop when I reach Surat Al Imran. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and start reciting in a loud voice. Each word I speak out loud, makes the weight on my shoulder lessen. The burden is not as bad. The fear is not as strong. The shame is slowly decreasing. Allah's words have the power to do that, and much more.

Forgive me Allah. Forgive me for leaving behind my prayers, my dua'as, my Iman (faith), my duty as your servant. I'm sorry for not thanking you for what you have given me. I'm sorry for all the sins I've committed without being conscious of them. Forgive me Ya Allah. Forgive me. Help me. Keep my daughter safe. Don't take her away from me. Allah I beg of you. Keep her safe. Keep my mother happy, my father strong, my brother healthy. Help me. Help everyone in need. Help all the Muslims who need the light to guide them to you. Forgive us. Forgive me and help me Ya Allah. Keep us safe. Keep us safe. Ya Rabb. Don't let any bad come to my angel. Ya Rabb. Forgive me.

My cries mixed with my words become unclear.

I'm tired I'm so tired Ya rabbi. I need your guidance. I need your help. I promise to not go astray. Show me the light, and I'll find the path on my own. Just shed some light my way Ya Allah. That's all I ask.

My voice is so hoarse, my energy is slowly draining away. I need rest but I don't stop until a while later.

I read and read until I slowly feel my eyes closing. I look at the clock and realize that I've been sitting in the same spot for more than 3 hours, unmoving, praying and reciting Quran. Vulnerable in front of my god, asking for forgiveness and guidance.