TWO DISTANT HEARTS

CHAPTER 1

DRIIIN DRIIIN DRIIIII....
"Wake up, I won't tell you a second time", ufff mom, there's an alarm clock to wake me up, can you not make a mess already in the early morning and then it's not even six. This is how every morning of mine begins, with my mom's scoldings and screams, which aren't always necessary.  While I'm choosing what to wear, I'll tell you a little about my life.  Not all if not what's the point of the book!  And then I believe in saying that life is not written with an indelible mark or it is not a fixed thing, you can always change, you never know when and what moment your whole life can change, you don't know what Allah really has prepared for you.  I'm a very normal girl who attends university, and I also do a separate job, but always connected and offered by the university, I'm not the only child, because my mother almost adopted my best friend Izma, oops sorry I forgot to tell you what's my name, it had to be one of the first things, well it doesn't matter anyway in my life everything goes a bit as time wants it.  My name is Ezal Mohammad.  So now let's continue with my life, as I said before, I attend California State University, Long Beach.  In life I would love to become an able person I want my parents to be proud of me and also a lot.  Precisely  my mother because she didn't want me to go to university, but I asked dad to convince mom and in one way or another we managed to convince her.  My mother had the typical thought of getting married and so I could have my own family and blah blah... for now that's all, I'll continue later and while I'll take a shower I'll pass you my mother so you can make up your mind about her too. 
Ezal, my goodness this girl, always late, I have to wake up to send this girl to university safely, I have to see how she dresses, what she wears and how she goes to university, every morning the same story.  How many responsibilities we parents have, and these increase if it's a daughter.  We parents have to hand they "clean" and "new"  over to another family, and how can we protect our daughters from today's world.  I always told her father to drop Ezal's studies and marry her so at least we know she's safe and we've done our job, but no, these two daughter and father have to do what comes to they're mind and they always have to exclude me.  Ezal, if you're late, you won't go to university, twenty buses don't go by, so get moving!, "Mom, I have a driving licence", she yelled from the bathroom in her room.  Then this driver's license thing too, she only did it because she wanted it, she says it's her need, her dad took her car because otherwise what's the point of a driving license but I don't understand in all this why she must have the driver's license if she  has to get married and her husband will do all the errands.  I never let her use her car, you never know about the traffic then we hear so much bad news and here in California the streets are always crowded I wouldn't want her to cause harm to others and to herself.  According to Ezal, I'm a mother who doesn't care about her daughter, but that's not the case, everything I say is for her sake!  "Mom, here I am you see I wasn't late, give me lunch that you pack and I also want to tell you that today I finish a little late I have to do two more lessons in view of exams", why are you wearing this color, so bright, like who wants to make you note?, "What's wrong with my nikab?", the color, Ezal, the color is not right, this light blue is too bright, "Mom, this is a light blue as  yourself say and how come you tell me that it is bright? ", go quickly and change the nikab," Mom but it's perfect why every morning we always have to discuss, if not about the nikab then the dress, if not the dress then the perfume I use, if not the perfume then the jewelry I wear and today about the color of the nikab, come on mom please leave me", I told you to go and change it, why you make a fuss, who do you want to get noticed by Eh!?," Mom but... but it all seems normal to you, look I'll leave here because if I stay here for another two seconds my head will explode and then I don't want to say bad things", you're always the same rude person, and you're right to go from here, you're not going to university today, that's enough and I've decided.  According to her I'm wrong but all this I do to keep her protected.  Now I'm going to re pass her , who must surely be complaining to Izma in the room. 
I was in the room, on time, my tears wouldn't be waiting for long.  Mum can't have a problem with the color of my nikab, this was too much, my patience is running out, every time I try to start the day right something always happens, something that makes me break down in tears, and this day's problem it was the too dark color of the nikab I wear.  Sometimes I think, it was better that I got married as my mother wanted, at least I could have a little more freedom, I don't want to go around inappropriately or have lots of parties or go to the disco to get drunk, NO!  This to me is not freedom but it is self-abuse, wasting the only life you have doing this stupid thing.  By freedom I mean going out at least once a month with Izma, or if we have to have lunch with friends i could go, go for a normal walk with Izma even here in the park near my house, the freedom I want for myself I called it the little beautiful things, small moments to remember, experiences to take with you in life.  But I always end my thought by encouraging myself by saying that there are more serious things to cry about here and now at twenty-one I should already be used to it.  I could not miss the lessons today, they were very important and after that I also had to go to work so the sadness on the part and I changed my veil to a light pink one and a black nikab, before instead I wore a light blue veil with a nikab black that covers my face.  I say it like this to specify what I was wearing and what my mother's problem was with the color.  Taking a deep breath I left the room, I was late but if I walked quickly I could have reached the bus in ten minutes.  I'm going Mom, "Come back to your usual time, don't be late..." be careful who you meet, don't talk to anyone except Izma, don't sit on the bus next to any male, don't look up too much, always keep your eyes on the ground , always sit composed, go directly to the university and do not stop anywhere and remember that when you leave the house no one recognizes you as Ezal but as Mohammad's daughter, I said in a hurry they were the exact words of mom who repeats me every day and after that I left the house.