Unfixable fixing

Chapter Fifteen

"But Allah will never delay a soul when it's time has come." Quran; 63:11

Not even a minute will be added or deducted for you if your time has come, death comes unannounced, prepare for it all the time. May Allah grant us good endings, Amin.

Samirs pov

Sitting alone on my bed on a Monday evening, staring at the sun set from our opened window— or curtain.

Same shit, different day.

I pick my pen to continue writing in my black journal, a gift from my mother.

And sometimes,
I feel like crying,
Crying without any reason,
Because i am tired.

Tired of everything and everyone.

A sigh escape my lips, not the content type that escaped my lips few days ago, no, not that type. This the type of sigh that escapes your lips when you're tired, tired of shit.

Tired of living.

I find my self sketching the sunset at the back of my old journal, and surprisingly it's turning out good, well... not bad.

Since when did i start sketching unknowingly?

I lick lips and close the journal, opening my bedside drawer to put it inside.

I groan, putting my head on my pillow, covering myself with my blue-green quilt, my dad gave it to me when i was returning back to school from our mid-semester break.

Life is so unfair, few days back i was so happy with life and with where i was, I always sleep with a smile on my face, i look forward to waking up every morning because i started believing that life wasn't so bad and it is worth living.

Not that i don't think it isn't now, just you know.

Astagfurillah.

I have one more exams left, and then i will go back home to my father.

Speaking of father, i pick my phone that was on the bedside drawer, sit up right and dial my dads number.

After almost three rings he picks up; "Assalamu Alaikum Abhi." I said.

"Wa'alaikas S-salaam ib-ibni." He replies with much difficulty, he has severe cough and finds it almost impossible to speak.

I'm sure his illness contributed in how I've been feeling lately, i hope he gets well soon, amin.

"Kaifa haluk abhi?(how are you father)" I ask.

"Alhamdulillah ana bi khair ibni, wa-wa anta?(Alhamdulillah i am fine my son, what about you?" He asks, trying to sound strong.

I hate the world we're living, why do you have to pretend to be fine?

"How was yo-your exa-exams?" He added.

I smile; "Alhamdulillah dad, i have only one paper left and then I'll be back home."

"In sha-" he start coughing, "Abu Samir you haven't taken your medicine yet." I hear Mama Zainabs voice in the background.

"Asif abhi, Allahumma yashfikum( sorry dad, May Allah heal you, amin)"

"Amin my son, i gotta go take my medications." He says and hung up.

A tear cascade down my cheek, Ya Rabbi please grant his shifa'a(health) he is so strong but now he is letting his guard down, and it's scary.

I wipe my tear and walk to the bathroom to perform wudhu, i will tell my Lord everything, not that He doesn't know.