The Untamed Storms~ On hold~

Chapter two-Evil step mother

It was a very hot and sunny Wednesday afternoon, I walked back home, from the masjid after the mid-afternoon tafsir, wearing a long black hijab and a black niqabi closing my face completely.

My eyes drifted to an old lady, holding a very big bag, bending over to one side, because of the heavy weight. Her wrinkles mimicked tiredness and  hardships, making her eyes smaller.

"Mama..let me help you with it" I stated, collecting the big bag and holding it with both hands.

"Thank you my child" she said. Her voice was hoarse and cracked. She looked so old. And her clothes looked worn out

I held the bag for her and followed her suit until we reached an old rustic house, which she seems to be living alone.

Chiming of metals against each other was heard as I placed the bag inside the mud room.

"Mama...I'll leave now, please take care of yourself" I spoke.

"My daughter...thank you so much. This old lady here has nothing to give you...but.." she said and unwrapped a knot in her wrapper. She took out two dates and extended her hands to me. "Here take this my child...May Allah bless you with the highest rank of Jannah. May Allah give you a righteous spouse"

I lifted my niqabi and smiled at her, then took one dates and held it. "Thank you for the du'a mama... I'll be on my way now" and with that I made my way home.

I reached home and something disturbing caught my eye. By the side where dishes were washed, were my antique drawings and paintings, squeezed and discarded in the most harshest way ever. I felt the anger in me build up, but I let my cool take over. I moved and touched the papers. They were drenched.

My step mother's cup of atrocious cruelty was almost full. Just one more drop from her and thats it. I went to my room without a word and changed my clothes.

It was ramadhan, at least during this period she could just pray to Allah to forgive her and stop hatching conspiracies and hurting people. I'm fasting, that's the only reason that stopped me from giving her a piece of her cake.

I tore open the envelope I slyly got from the post office this morning, a letter from my best friend, Asiya. It has been two months since she got married and left for the US.

Salam alaikum my dear friend, how have you been? I miss you so so much. I've settled in here, his family are really nice. I'm being taken care of and treated like a queen.

I know what you're thinking of Siya, he's really nice, and we're getting to know each other really well.

Its very cold over here, I miss the hot sunny days back in our village...oh and the beautiful sunset.

Anyways, I have to go now. And yes Dont worry about me, I'm happy over here leema, very happy.

It's high time you find a nice handsome prince and also get married, I'm going to dance like crazy at your wedding.

Bye leema. I love you.

I smiled at the last part of the letter. Just as I tucked the paper under my pillow, I heard screams from outside.

I hurried outside to find Maa Fatima, in a pool of blood, lying on the bare floor, clutching her stomach tightly and Mama Saratu, was standing by the side, smirking, her devilish children, watching in amusement. 

I picked her up and help her to her room, I was confused on what to do. Baba wasn't at home, how am I going to take her to the hospital.