His face was red and fuming with rage. As he advanced towards us, I could feel myself becoming very tense. Just as I thought doom had encompassed us, I felt a hard tap on my shoulder. Well, not really. Firdaus had used his pen -again- to poke me. I spun around, fronting Firdaus, panic in my eyes. He quickly gestured me to follow him. I trailed behind him, as we ran to the back of the school. Finally, we reached the back gate of the school, which adjoined the canteen and school hall at the first storey.
He opened the gate silently, careful not to arouse suspicions from the other students. I walked in briskly and made my way to the hall, not even turning back to thank him. I was too relieved, although there was a huge question forming in my head.
Why did Firdaus help me out?
YOU ARE READING
Don't Tell
Teen FictionDiyyana Anisa never had any interest to know about her deen, but things take a turn when she is forced to pursue her studies in an Islamic school. There, she tussles to battle over conflicts with her feelings, emotions and her main antagonist – her...
