Painting Life

T h i r t y - S i x

Sorry this  chapter sucks but I was getting over yet another writer's block ugh. I am not entirely satisfied but it's good enough for a first draft. 

Anyways, vote, comment and fan! And thank you for the 2k reads ;) 

Dedicated to Yasmeena because of her comment and because she's an amazing writer and because I think I am about to make a friend but I am not sure so don't answer if you're not sure. I don't want to be awkward. 

~Rida <3

<< When the grey clouds hang above and the rain starts to fall, the only thing I can do is look up in the sky and pray to God >>

Thirty Six | Scarred For Life

D a n i y a:

When Haris stepped out of the car, no disappoinment came crashing down on me and the only thing I could remember, as the engine roared to life, was what Dad had said when I was still fourteen and bullied. 

It had been a horrible day for me. Not only had I overheard Haris listen to Remy badmouth me wordlessly but Fawn had actually pushed me to the locker that day, her macho boyfriend right next to her. I had almost been convinced that she would kill me but then I realized that her boyfriend was actually a nerd in disguise - the type who wouldn't hurt the fly - and a valdectorian. 

So when I went home that day, I was in a full-on bitchy mood, a scowl pasted permanently on my face no matter how hard Haris tried to make it budge as we walked towards home together. 

When we reached the house, I went to open the door quicky so that I could run and start the waterworks under my sheets and instead, ended up slipping on the doorstep. I landed on my butt and bounced back to lay down but Haris caught me in time and we were in the same position when Dad looked out to see what the commotion was about. 

He was worried when I stormed in, close to tears, my ass aching like it had just been smacked hard. Dad noticed me walk awkwardly and sat me on the couch while he brought the ice pack to me. 

I was mumbling incoherent swear words - something I'd learned recently in school. I had thought that they were cool; a simple way to express our anger. A short cut; a long story short. 

"You don't look very happy today," Dad said softly. 

I never looked okay - not really. Every day when I stepped in, the first thing I did was flee towards my room before Mum noticed my red-rimmed eyes. 

I shrugged, "It was a harsh day." 

"Well, everything happens for a reason." Dad looked at me matter-of-factly, as if expecting me to understand what he was talking about. 

I raised an eyebrow at him, my thoughts disfigured by his sudden words. But then, my thoughts had always been disoriented; as if they were a whole body but the face was stuck wrong and the legs were twisted in an awkward angle. 

"You believe in God, sweetheart. And you know what? God is never unfair. He always, always knows best. He knows that you can handle what you're facing. That's why he chose you. And who knows? Maybe with all the pain you are facing, the sins might be washing away, making way for a better hereafter?" He said resonately, scratching his forehead - almost destroying the wise, old man aura. 

"Don't you want a better hereafter? It is better. Our hereafter is our forever. We must remember that." 

"I know," I said nonchalantly. But in my defense I was fourteen and I had failed to understand the importance of what he was trying to tell me.