Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 2

I find Maliha standing beside my bed, and I sit up so quickly that she jumps back.

"Are you okay? Did you sleep well?" She demands and doesn't even wait for me to answer. "I'm so sorry if you are doing this because of me. I have no problem to share my room with you, I promise. I want to help you . You aren't alone."

"I'm fine, Alhamdulillah," I say, still dazed due to the dream. The eyes... the most beautiful eyes... like pieces of green glass shattered in the iris... so bright; so peaceful. I feel goosebumps all over my body.

"Abeer...?" Maliha snaps her fingers in front of my face, and I come back to earth.

"Oh sorry," I apologize sheepishly. "Maliha, I'm totally fine. I slept very well." I bite my cheek at my exaggeration, remembering the nightmare. "Quite well," I correct myself.

"Alhamdulillah," she exhales with relief and squeezes my hand. "Don't you have to take a purity bath? Be quick. It's almost Fajr."

I remove the covers and make my bed with an absent mind, thinking only about what I saw. It always takes extra courage for me to bathe because that is when I have to face my scars. It is unavoidable, but sometimes, I find it weirdly calming. It is the only time I feel like myself like my secret can breathe a little before I hush them up again with layers of armor. After taking a bath, I take out the prayer mat and stand up for Fajr prayer. Praying just after the purity bath has its own perks. It renews my faith when I pray after so many days and I feel so content..

As I go to Sujood, I feel overwhelmed by serenity. Oh Allah, last night wasn't so bad. I didn't scream in my nightmare and could sleep alone and You blessed me with such a peaceful dream at the end. Oh Allah, I had lost hope in my improvement, but now I believe I can be better, believe that I can be normal like others. You, My Lord, can make me forget and move on. Only You can help me learn from my past and live in the present. Oh Allah, I ask Your help alone, and I worship You alone. Let Your and my side be the same; let Your and my happiness lie within the same reason. My Allah, I have done so wrong in my life. I have violated Your blessings. Oh, forgive me, My Lord, You are indeed the Most Merciful, the Seer of All. I repent to You, Allah. If You are Pleased with me, I can't be blessed more. Please be pleased with me, Oh Lord and give me patience and help me fight my weaknesses and overcome my fear. Ameen.

After I finish my prayer, I wipe away the tears of humiliation from my face. I change into my school uniform and braid my hair. I take a deep breath as I button my sleeves over my scars. One day these scars will mean something, a voice inside me urges. One day In Sha Allah, I will be normal, I hope foolishly.

I go to the kitchen after wearing my abaya and find Maliha making my breakfast- noodles with chai.

"Did you eat?" I ask when she doesn't join me at the table.

Maliha shakes her head and replies, "No, I feel a little pukish. It's stress probably."

"Does Mom know? Where is Mom?" I ask, realizing her absence.

"Mom had an emergency meeting at the office so she had to go early."

"Oh okay," I respond. "Is Pops awake?"

"Yes," she tells me. "He had his breakfast already and is changing right now."

Maliha turns the stove off, and I praise her, "Jazakallah Khairun. You go and wear your abaya."

I shift the noodles from the stove to a bowl, then sit on the dining table in the kitchen to eat. I say Bismillah before eating and realize it is one of those rare moments when I am alone again.