The Hidden Soul Inside

1

I was looking at my book, trying to read it. But my mind couldn't help darting back to his beautiful face. His deep voice that turned my feet into goo.

"Astaghfirullah Safiyya, get your shit together!" I slapped my cheek, hard. Turning few heads as the sound radiated--except his head though. Embarassed, I dropped my gaze to the book, but deep down a tint of disappointment stayed in my heart like an annoying fly.

These past few days my feelings had been a mess. I supposed to study for my finals. Instead, the only thought that was circling around my mind was him and him.

I didn't particularly remember when I started to like him--we never noticed or talked to each other. But one day, when I looked at him, a strong feeling surged through me. That day I realized I'm madly in love with him. It was 10 days ago.

Right now in the library, he was sitting across two tables from me--also studying. We still hadn't spoken to each other. I didn't have the gut to talk to him because I was very awkward and shy towards someone I like. Though I tried to catch him in the library everyday. Just by sitting not-really-near him I felt content. The bad side, I couldn't focus.

'I should stop trying to see him or I will never study,' I thought to my self--yet I couldn't. Even after I motivated myself to study at home the burning pain of longing broke my every attempts to sit still in my bedroom. I ended up in the library everyday. Pretending to study but actually staring at him. Damn.

In spite of that, he never lifted his gaze to meet my eyes. I'd go home dissapointed while holding my tears from falling down. This was how the past 10 days had been. College, library, home, crying.

***

"Safiyya, how can your grades be like this? Your GPAs are always high. What happened? Talk to me." Mom's voice was ringing in my ears. I really wanted to block that voice.

"I--i don't know mom. I will try harder next semester."

"I have to know why Safiyya! I don't want your grades to suffer like this anymore."

"I know mom! Do you think I want it too?!"

"Then why?!" Her face suddenly changed--realization hit her. "Have you been drinking or clubbing?! You know the environment you're in isn't islamic. Have you been influenced?!"

Mom's accusing tone was raising my ire. "I'm not like you mom! My iman is not weak like yours! I never drink and sleep around like when you were young! I'm not cheap," I snapped. And I regretted it as soon as I let those words out of my mouth.

The silence after was maddening--just like thick syrup. The guilt set my heart on fire. But I couldn't voice any reason. I had none.

I waited for the slap to come, but it never comes, instead the reality hurted me more.

Tears shined in her eyes. Her face changed into a pained one--haunting me to no end. She took a deep shaky breath then turned her back to me. "Never once you ever hurt me like this Safiy." Then she walked away to her bedroom.

I stood still. Unable to comprehend what I just did. What have I done? My heartbeat became quicker. And everytime I took a breath, it was harder than the previous.

'Oh my Allah what's wrong with me? I hurted my mom, the only parent I ever have.  How could I? When You command that one of the biggest sin is to hurt the mother's heart. And for whoever who did it, will never smells the fragnance of the heaven. Astaghfirullahal'azim. Please forgive me Ya Allah!'

I was screaming the duas of repentance inside. Tears blurred my visions. The world crashing down around me. I started to hyperventilating.

Fresh air. I needed fresh air.

I ran towards the door and out of my home. I ran blindly, letting my legs to take me wherever they want to go. Many times I bumped into people. In turn they gave shouts and stares to me, the girl with a disheveled hijab while bawling her eyes out.

After what felt like years of running, my legs finally gave up and I fell with my face turned to the ground. I sobbed for another 5 minutes until my tears subsides. Then I took a deep breath, trying to calm my erratic breathing.

My heart beats had turned normal. And I could breathe freely again. In the back of my mind I pondered why the heck I reacted so dramatically.

I lifted my head and darkness welcomed my sights. Damn, how far I'd ran? After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I found myself sitting in front of a familiar building, the library. It seems deserted; only one or two lights were on.

It was 11 at night. A gust of cold night air swept past me, sending shivers down my spine. The shivers wasn't only from the wind though. I never realize the library could be very creepy at nightime. I feel like something gonna pop out any moment like in those crappy horor movies.

But I'm not a scaredy cat --and so dumb, seriously? Sitting in the middle of a deserted road?-- so I took my sweet time to fix my hijab while mulling over where should I go next. I checked my skirt's pockets for money or phone. Alas, It was so empty that I could see a vivid visualization of butterfly coming out from my pockets.

I didn't want to go home, I'm sure about that. I couldn't face my mom right now. Therefore I started to walk toward a 24 hours cafè I knew.

When I walked past the library, I heard someone groaned in pain. My body freeze--the person groaned. Tje groans repeated a few times till I registered what the person was actually saying

"Help... You... Please help me..."

It was a man voice.

The sane rational part of my brain screaming at me to take off from here like a mad woman. But my damned moral and curiosity --and stupidity-- coerced me to see what's wrong. Regardless the dark and creepiness, the latter wins.

I scanned for the man. And there I found him, a silhouette lying next to the dumpster beside the library building. Cautiously I walked to him while praying my 10 years study of silat will make a good self defense.

The man continued to groan which turned into exhausted whispers as I neared him. The smell of the dumpster turned my stomach. I supressed the urge to gag. The puddles from the dumpster swished noisily. Thank Allah I wore a decent pair of water resistant boots.

"Help me...," the man pleaded once more.

I tried to make out his facial structure. The man's body was soaked in garbage juice. Blood peppered his face and hands. His face looks a bit familiar--

My breath hitched as I stood flabbergasted. Had he not opened his eyes I wouldn't be able to knew him.

Those emerald eyes...

It was him.

Author's note: Hi!!! This is my first time making story with English. Probably I make a ton of mistakes even if I'd proof-read it over and over again lol. I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable reading it >.<" . I want to improve my english so I use this method since I will check the dictionary more than if I were just reading. Also, my knowledge over the differences of US and UK English is small, so pardon me!!! Maybe you could help by correcting me?

Enough with the apologies lol.

Please vote and comment anything lol. Thank you for reading ♡♡♡.