Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 15 - That One Crazy Night

SOOO sorry for the late upload!!! Italicized = Flashback.

"In the Quran, it says that disobeying and disrespecting one's parents is equivalent to committing a murder. How many murders did I commit that night alone?" -- Noha Ali

Chapter 15

That One Crazy Night

☻ Noha Ali ☻

“If it was anyone else, I would be worried. But you’re Noha Ali, the good girl.”

Those words echo in my ears as I speed home after going to the library. I feel like they’re mocking me, hiding in the leaves of the trees and in the flowers blooming brilliant colors, waiting for me to walk by so that they can remind me over and over again of what a stupid person I am.

When I get home, I race upstairs to my room after dropping a kiss on Dawud and Rubina’s cheeks, who greet me when I arrive.

I know she didn’t mean it like that, because she has no idea of what happened all those years ago. The weight of the secrets and half-truths make my heart heavy.

I want to break free, I really do. I want to soar with weightless wings in the sky of truth, but the pull of secrets is keeping me from lifting my feet off the ground.

Maysa’s words hit me so hard when she said them, because the truth is, she should have been worried. She trusted me, and I broke that trust, trampled all over it as if it was insignificant, all those years ago. To this day she has no idea of what I did, and her obliviousness stabs me with every trusting word she utters.

They say that beauty is truth. If that is so, I must be the ugliest person to ever walk this earth. You know why? Because I lost everything that night, and the worst part is that I have never admitted it to anyone I love and trust. Only one person knows, but I feel as if I don’t even know him anymore.

As the memories flood through my mind like they have just been released by a broken dam, I settle back and allow myself to take a journey into the past to escape the reality of today.

            “Hi, Noha! How’s middle school?” Maysa asks excitedly over the phone, the sound of her bubbly voice filling my ear as I clutch the phone close to me.

            “It’s cool.” I say, in a bored tone.

            “How are Farah and Naomi and Annabelle?” She asks again, trying to prod information out of me.

            “They’re fine too.” I respond, irritation mounting as I tensely look at the clock for the fifth time since Maysa called. I’m going to be late if I don’t hang up now.

            “Look, I have to go.” I all but snap.

            There is silence on Maysa’s end of the line and finally, she responds in a quiet voice, “Ok.” The familiar sound of a click can be heard through the phone when she hangs up. I glance at the clock and grin; perfect, I have enough time to get ready now that Maysa hung up.

            I cringe at this part of the memory. God, how could I have been so selfish? Was I really that stupid, not to notice the hurt in her voice? I laugh humorlessly. I did notice the hurt, but I was too self-centered to care, too egocentric to consider the feelings of others.