Nazım

Maksat// acquiring a goal

Hark! Mark my words, that this hath be the last update of Nazım until the end of Ramadan! [people cheer]

Okay stop clapping that's LAME OF YOU, NONEXISTENT BRACKET PEOPLE [I'm strange to the point where people probably won't associate themselves with me but it's okay]

But for those of you who care, I tried dusting this one up a little so I can go out with a small bang for about 4 weeks. The chapters after this one will start picking up pace and well, stuff's gonna go down. Literally right after this chapter something controversial's gonna happen that will probably throw you off track. And if you still want something in writing form from me, keep an eye on A Path of Light for Ramadan updates in sha Allah!

In sha Allah, this Ramadan will be better than the last one ['specially for all those who felt like they didn't do so well last year]

Anyway.

M A K S A T
{acquiring a goal}

In a matter of one week, Nazım had managed to raise a little less two thirds of the money. He continued working harder each day until receiving a promotion from both of his jobs, to his surprise. At the factory he worked with more steel than he had in a while and always came home with clothes stained with grease. More and more orders and shipments were coming into Birant's bakery so he had to leave every day right after Fajr to go take care of them. He soon ended up not coming home for that whole week alone until everyone was all sleeping.

With that, he continued to work at a pace he was finding unsustainable. It wasn't just him who noticed. Nesrin and even Murat had taken notice at his state lately. From his irritable attitude, to the dark circles under his eyes, and his skin looking slightky sullen. Not to mention the blank look on his face.

The things stress can do to a person are quite amazing.

At Birant's bakery, Nazım was sitting at a chair behind the counter with his head lolling back and forth as he tried to stay awake. There was a stark lack of customers that hour since the afternoon prayer time had just come in. Nazım had already prayed and went back to his seat. There was a cold cup of coffee sitting on the counter that he had failed to drink out of not wanting to move.

His eyes were closed but he was still trying to stay awake.

I can do this. He kept thinking to himself. He was just resting his eyes, he told himself. Resting his eyes wasn't the same as sleeping, he'd repeat to himself.

Nazım forced himself to sit up, but failed to, and fell forward on the counter. He let out a muffled groan but ceased it as soon as the door opened-- the bell rang harder than usual so he knew it was Mehmet throwing it open again.

"You will never guess what happened!" Mehmet stormed in, slamming his hands on the counter.

While he did love his friend, some things he just couldn't care less about. It was always something with Mehmet. At first when he met Mehmet, Nazım considered him to be one of those serious religious people who were very devout. And while he was, Nazım failed to realize Mehmet also had a habit of over exaggerating things. And being Mehmet.

And so to appease him sometimes, he actually tried to care. Three times and from then on, stopped to wait for Mehmet to speak.

Nazım gave up on trying. He didn't bother with trying to look like he cared.

"Whoa. Are you okay?" Mehmet raised a brow, tapping Nazım's shoulder. He didn't bother trying to lift his head up. It was too heavy.

All those times, his sister was right; he did have a big head.