Winged Dreams

Chapter 39: Her World of Dreams lost its Wings

22nd July, 2016

Heeyyyyy all! Although I didn't want to earlier, I've finally decided that I'll be entering Winged Dreams in the wattys in sha Allah. Please show the book some love (like you'll always do alhamdulilah) and vote on this as well as all the previous chapters of the book. BarakAllahu feekum 💞 ♡

While this is an important chapter in the story, it doesn't end here. Of the remaining chapters, there are two more chapters that are going to be something you'll love. It's going to be bittersweet, and you'll probably shed tears of happiness. Yes, it's going to be so beautiful that it may tug at your heartstrings but at the same time fill your eyes with tears. I can't wait to write those parts in sha Allah ♡

Like I said in the last chap: Everything aside, think of the Ummah as you read this chapter.

And do not speak of those who are slain in Allah's way as dead; nay, (they are) alive, but you do not perceive.

[Surah Baqarah]

No soul that has a good standing with Allah and dies would wish to go back to the life of this world, except for the martyr. He would like to be returned to this life so that he could be martyred again, for he tastes the honor achieved from martyrdom.

[Muslim]

Chapter 39:

Her World of Dreams lost its Wings

A bittersweet smile graced Bilal's lips as his eyes took everything in front of him. Coming to Aifa, he had realised, was a dream come true. He'd never miss a chance to kiss the cheeks of the orphans, caress their face, or stroke their hair and tell them stories. He'd play with the children in the evenings and serve the old, or those who were physically disabled by the war at other times.

Orphan. They were orphans in this world and he'd do everything in his power to be the parent that they had lost. Two weeks was all he had in hand, and he was willing to make the best use of his time here.

Every day, he'd earn their smiles, he'd savour their laughter, he'd imprint their innocence and with the combination of all this, he'd try and fail to fill the void in his heart that was a result of missing his dear wife and darling daughter.

With every moment he spent here, his wife was in his thoughts. With every child he carried, his little baby was on his mind. One week's wait seemed too long as he thought of the time he'd finally have them in his embrace so he'd never let them go, kiss his wife and daughter, and hold them to their heart. And yet, a week felt extremely short for it meant he'd have to bid goodbye to offering service in the land of those oppressed.

And between all these thoughts, his mind would think of how beautiful it would be if martyrdom was what he could be destined to.

"Bilal! Get them here!"

The heavy accent of the very dedicated, Brother Abdullah broke him of his thoughts and Bilal covered the distance to him, his arms loaded with packs of food.

"60 done Alhamdulilah, 30 more to go," he said.

It was a Friday morning, and Bilal had accompanied the brother in distribution of food parcels to families that lived further away from the orphan building.

Little Samha, who was barely four had clung to his leg while he was leaving, with tears shining in her eyes. She'd do this every time someone left the orphan building.

"Don't go outside," she whispered. "There are bad people out there."

Bilal had bend down at that, looking in her eyes and trying to take away her sorrows.