The Imperials

Rage

 وَلَا تَقۡتُلُوٓاْ أَنفُسَكُمۡ‌ۚ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ كَانَ بِكُمۡ رَحِيمً۬ا (٢٩)

And do not kill yourselves [or one another]. Indeed, Allah is to you ever Merciful [Qur'an 4: 29].  

 Rasullullah (S.A.W) said: The strong man is not the one who can overpower others (in wrestling); rather the strong man is the one who controls himself when he gets angry.

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**7 Years Later***

Halima POV:

"Class is over!" Ms. Amelia hollered, packing her binders in her overly stuffed side bag. "You may all leave! Remember, first thing tonight, submit your biology assignment and get your graduation forms signed by parents."

Silently, packing up my bag with the rest of the class, I slipped out with the rush of the crowd mumbling a silent goodbye to the teacher. Everything was almost the same as before, the same people going to the same school. Only a few additional new students in our last year of school, and that was all. My life, the same, silent, and quiet. I avoided detention and other troublesome assemblies for the sake of keeping my parents happy, they didn't deserve despair and sorrow for raising me up the best way.

I had the same exact ambitions and dreams. I had to leave this world as fast as I could, simple as it sounded. Each day was a burden, a headache. Me, suffering the exhausting life of school, hoping Allah would take me anytime now. I couldn't pray for death since that would make me an ungrateful person in the eyes of Allah, and suicide will leave me in the sea of blood in hell forcing me to commit suicide a thousands of times more, a torturous pain bestowed for eternity. Thus, I decided to just simply wait for it to hit me when Allah decided the best timing, but secretly I hoped it would be sooner than I thought. My heart was already old, seventeen years and still beating. This world was just a crappy and miserable place, nothing good ever existed, wrapped in crime and chaos.  What benefit will my existence make? Nothing!

"Bye Miss, have a great night!" Harun hollered, passing by with his gang of friends, laughter freely escaping their mouths. As highschool approached, instead of Musa being in my class, it was Harun replaced in most of them. At least no more sights of clowning around!

Padding across to the locker room, I furiously typed in my code sliding my locker door wide. I stuffed in some of my belongings, and secured my backpack over my shoulders, pulling out my skateboard out of there.

I silently pushed myself in the midst of the huge crowd who were all forcing themselves out through the exit double doors. Instantly, the heated afternoon sunlight had blinded my eyes, and I shaded my eyes with my jean jacket sleeves. The breeze was long gone replaced by a thick moist heat to bake us all.

Clinging to my backpack straps, I quickened my strides down the school field trying to find my way out of all this chaos--laughters, playful screams, boys wrestling in the ways all created a whirlpool of headache for me. I just had to leave this place. My gaze skidded through the countless colourful vehicle parked in a neat row in the parking lot ahead. Where did I park my car again?

"Ouch!" A familiar guy had rudely bumped into me with a growl, rubbing his forearm with a scowl. Gideon. His eyebrows were squeezed together with rage, his lips set straight in a thin line. "Watch where you're going?"

A paper had flown out of his hand, a black dragon symbol elaborately stamped on it. I knew that, I knew exactly where it was from. A familiar cursive signiture signed the bottom with the initials 'J.H'. My heart hammered thunderously in my chest, and I immediately grasped it out of the grass before he did. My blood rushed and thundered against my ears. "Where did you get this?"