I just wanna thank Absent_Siano for the wonderful covers she keeps on making me! I have so much to choose from! ily you're awesomesauce! Go check her work out she is the bomb.com & super nice! 💕
Tell me what you think of the latest cover!
Some words I thought I should explain in case someone wonders!
Dua'a: Supplication
Allah: The Arabic word, referring to God in Abrahamic religions.
Wudu: Ablution (purifying oneself before times of worship).
Qibla (Kaaba): The direction (towards Kaaba in Mecca) which Muslims face when praying.
Rabb: God (in Arabic).
The holy Quran: Islamic sacred book.
Hadith: A collection of sayings by our Prophet Muhammed (pbuh).
Surah: Chapter of the Quran.
(Unedited)
| Layla's POV |
Its funny how as soon as tragedy strikes or something bad happens to us it sends us running to raise our hands, making dua'a and kneeling on our prayer mats.
But where is our dua'a and prayers when something good happens in our life? Where is our faith when Allah grants us a blessing? When something good happens to us, we should be bowing down, kneeling in front of Allah and thanking him. But the truth is you don't need a reason to kneel in front of Allah and worshipping him, you just gotta do it because if the fact that you're still breathing isn't good enough of a reason then I don't know what is.
I sound like a hypocrite for merely thinking this, but I can't help it. I feel ashamed. Why am turning to Allah when I'm in need of something? Why have I left behind some of my faith with time?
I slipped and forgot. It's that simple. But one should never forget the God almighty, the most merciful, the most forgiving. And what did I do? I forgot.
The last few nights have been horrid. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't concentrate. All I do is think, think some more and worry. What have I ever done to insult a person this much to make them hate me? Who is after me & my daughter? Who is so determined to hurt us? What kind of person wants to hurt an innocent child? Why does the fear and shame never leave my heart? Why have I slowly forgotten to ask Allah (swt) for help? For guidance? For forgiveness?
After that day at the picnic, I have been closed off from the world, even from my own daughter and specifically Adam. I don't want to speak to anyone. I need some time. I need to come up with something quick that would help me protect my angel and me. I can't tell Adam, he'll only get hurt in the process. I can't show any of this to him because if he ends up in danger, I would never be able to forgive myself.
The day after the picnic, I went over to Adam's house, with my lifeless form and asked him for a favor. I asked him to re-offer us the guestroom in his villa. I needed to be able to sleep at night knowing that there was a man close by that could protect us from harm. Since the person after us, already found a way into the pool house. Into the bedroom. And over to my bed. I would never be able to sleep peacefully there. My eyelids would never fall close knowing I am sleeping next to a spot where someone terrorizing us was there mere hours, possibly minutes before.
Adam, being the gentleman he sometimes is accepted immediately, and helped me move our stuff over to the guest room. He tried asking me if I was alright, saying he noticed that I seemed a little bit off. I shrugged it off, said a thank you in a monotone voice and left the room.
This is leads me to now. I am currently sitting on my bed in my new bedroom in the guest house. The same room where I had woken up the day Adam found me sick. Melak is sleeping on the bed next to me. I decide to do something I haven't done in a while.
I get up and make my way to the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror, noticing the dark circles around my eyes, my disheveled midnight curls. But most prominently, I notice how lifeless my eyes look. The fear is always lurking behind. Shame is something I always see when I look at myself in the mirror. Shame, disgust, dishonor, damaged goods. Unfixable.
But no more.
I need my faith back. I need to make allah happy with me again. He (swt) is the only one who could help me. He is the most forgiving. The most helpful.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror before I glance away and start making wudu.
Yes wudu. Something that has been way back in my head for the last couple of weeks. Ever since the fire. It's something that's been long forgotten because of how hectic my life has become.
It's no excuse Layla.
I finish up and make my way back into the bedroom, I open my duffel bag and take out my (sajjada) prayer mat and a hijab. I direct the mat facing the qibla (Kaaba) and fall to my knees barely being able to put on my hijab on before uncontrollable sobs rack through my body. I try to silent my loud cries, careful not to wake Melak up but I can't. I just can't.
I'm helpless in front of my god. Powerless.
I kneel down, opening up my heart to the only one I'm in need of.
My god. My Rabb.
The world around me fades away as I pray the daily prayers with tears running down my face. I don't know how and when I finished, I just did.
I sit there, staring at the wall in front of me, unmoving. Ashamed of myself for my unthankfulness.
How could I be so selfish? So immature and forgetful?
Tears continue to run down my face, but I stay unmoving. Who knew I had it in me to cry this much.
Enough. I scold myself.
I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, I refix my hijab and pick up the holy Quran with my right hand, remembering a Hadith my mom once told me.
I open it randomly and stop when I reach Surat Al Imran. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and start reciting in a loud voice. Each word I speak out loud, makes the weight on my shoulder lessen. The burden is not as bad. The fear is not as strong. The shame is slowly decreasing. Allah's words have the power to do that, and much more.
Forgive me Allah. Forgive me for leaving behind my prayers, my dua'as, my Iman (faith), my duty as your servant. I'm sorry for not thanking you for what you have given me. I'm sorry for all the sins I've committed without being conscious of them. Forgive me Ya Allah. Forgive me. Help me. Keep my daughter safe. Don't take her away from me. Allah I beg of you. Keep her safe. Keep my mother happy, my father strong, my brother healthy. Help me. Help everyone in need. Help all the Muslims who need the light to guide them to you. Forgive us. Forgive me and help me Ya Allah. Keep us safe. Keep us safe. Ya Rabb. Don't let any bad come to my angel. Ya Rabb. Forgive me.
My cries mixed with my words become unclear.
I'm tired I'm so tired Ya rabbi. I need your guidance. I need your help. I promise to not go astray. Show me the light, and I'll find the path on my own. Just shed some light my way Ya Allah. That's all I ask.
My voice is so hoarse, my energy is slowly draining away. I need rest but I don't stop until a while later.
I read and read until I slowly feel my eyes closing. I look at the clock and realize that I've been sitting in the same spot for more than 3 hours, unmoving, praying and reciting Quran. Vulnerable in front of my god, asking for forgiveness and guidance.
***
| Adam's POV |
These words. They haunt me. They pull me in but I'm unrelenting. Im afraid to be pulled back. I can't be pulled back. I slowly sit down with my back against her door. My eyes blurry. I raise my head and look at the ceiling. These words. These holy words that meant so much to me once in my lifetime. The words I left behind. Completely. The words of the holy Quran. The faith. Allah.
I feel guilt. But I try to mentally shake that feeling away. I can't feel like this. It's no good.
Her voice holds so much pain. So much Sadness. So much suffering. I want to walk into her room and hold her close to my heart. I can't bare to listen to her pain filled voice. Her tears can be heard all the way outside her bedroom door. I wanna walk in and demand answers. I need to help her, I want to understand. I need to understand.
Her passion filled voice never stops reciting the words of the holy Quran that hold so much meaning. I hear faint murmurs, I hear her Duaa, her wishes, her promise and her pain.
I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I raise my hand and wipe it off immediately.
I don't cry. I haven't cried ever since that eventful night that changed my life. That left me with close to nothing. No life. No family. No love. No humanity. No faith. It robbed me of so many things.
Deep in my heart I know that Layla and I carry the same pain in our hearts and I can't bare for someone to feel what I've been feeling for the past years. No one deserves to feel this pain. This shame. I need to help her.
I'm glad she turned to Allah. She is the better person.
***
"Yes just bring the file over, I'll be waiting."
"Adam, are you sure about this? I know that this woman is special to you. This could make things worse."
"Jacob just bring the damn file over! Stop interfering! I know what I'm doing!" I yell through the phone.
"Jesus, dude calm the fuck down. I'll bring it over, but don't say I didn't warn ya."
I now feeling guilty for yelling at the closest thing I have to a brother, my best friend.
"Look man I'm sorry Jacob. I just gotta do this. It's the only way I can help her. I'll deal with the consequences later." I say before I end the call.
I rub my hands over my face, i hope this doesn't backfire.
***
"Here you go dude. I can't believe you made me drive to your place at 4 am in the morning to hand you this. You owe me. Big time." Jacob says with a scowl.
I shrug him off.
"Yeah yeah, whatever i know you wanted to see me this early in the morning. You missed me and this was a pretty good reason for you to come and actually see me. But don't worry your secret is safe with me." I wink at him, resulting with him punching me on my arm.
"You wish." He says before giving me a handshake and leaving.
***
Should I open it or not.
Open it or not.
Open it or-
I stare at the folder holding Layla's information. All her past is written on the piece of papers sitting in front of me. I wanted this, I requested Jacob to search for this information. But why do I feel guilty all of the sudden?
I called Jacob up and asked for a favor, which he did not take lightly... Obviously. Jacob is an ex-marine, and has recently opened up his own security company or something so I knew he had access to anything and anyone. He could get in trouble for this, but I needed the information so I could help Layla.
I'm not doing anything bad am I? I just wanna understand her so I can help her. I don't want to see her in pain. I can't stand it for some unknown reason.
Should I be doing this. Is this a smart move?
I pick up the folder and stare intently at it, as if it's holding all the secrets of the world, and thinking about it... It somehow does. It holds Layla's secrets.
I'm still deep in thought when I hear a faint gasp coming from behind me.
I turn around, my eyes widening at the sight.
Why is she awake? No. Fuck. I hope she didn't see this. I put down the folder slowly and try to cover it with my body.
"Is that-" Layla starts but stops taking a deep breath.
"Is that- is that what I think it is?" She asks in shaky voice pointing at the folder with her name in bold letters and picture on.
"Look Layla no. I can explain. It's not-"
"Save it." She looks at me with cold, emotionless eyes.
I gasp at the sight of her eyes. The eyes that are always full of light and emotion... The eyes that hold so much beauty yet so much pain... are completely empty. They look almost dead. They've lost their spark and deep down I know that this somehow just added salt to her already fresh wounds.
It's my fault. I did this. I always do this. I always hurt people. I'm damaged and I damage the people around me. I'm poison.
I always fucking do this. I'm so fucking stupid but she needs to understand, I need to make her understand.
I take a step towards her. "Layla look, I can explain, I was only trying to he-"
"Don't." She interrupts in a monotone voice.
She looks at me with no emotions or too many emotions flashing through her eyes. I can't tell.
"I'm going to bed. Goodnight." And with that she turns around, leaves the kitchen and walks up the stairs.
But I'm no fool.
I saw the tears pooling in her eyes. I saw the few tears running down her face when she turned around to leave. I saw the hurt flashing in her eyes. The fear.
I hurt her. Again.
******************
I'm extremely proud of this chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed it!
So tell me what you think of my book so far! Comments are so appreciated.... Umm..even the criticizing ones??? Lol but seriously, I wanna make this book as good as I can. But I'm no author. I'm no scholar and I'm definitely no professional. I'm simply just a 16 year old girl who is doing something she enjoys.
Have a blessed day! x
Rania