REDEMPTIVE | ✔️

1. History class

Bismillah.

(This story is being edited so any confusion in names or spellings should be avoided🥲)

Walking up to birds humming that sat in the hidden branches of the pine tree right outside the glass window where Zalay's bed was, was something that she liked the most about her mornings.

Some days she decided to stay in bed until it was an hour until breakfast. Other days she sat up and gazed the appealing vista from her room window which led to a snowy road these days, her eyes following the baby birds chirping and finding nests here and there in tall snow-cladded tree.

It was another usual pointless day. Last night hadn't been any different. Again her insecurities were here to greet her.

She sighed and her shoulders slumped, recalling all the moments.

She remembered her grandmother, Rokeya, once telling her that those who didn't recite Quran verses at night had nightmares. She even did that, every night if she remembered she recited Ayahs then why was that all still taking place.

She pushed the wool blanket away. Slipping her feet out of bed she slid her right foot into her cozy slipper and for the left one she crouched down a bit so that she could wear her prosthetic leg.

She had been wearing it since she was three years old. That's what she was told. Mere a sight of it and the next second she would be momentarily into the past, remembering all the kids who used to make fun of her. She never took these things so seriously but sometimes it used to cause a pain in her heart.

Even if she faked that everyone's words didn't effect her, yet deep down there was a hollowness, a black whole, which was filling up with these mockeries, overflowing at nights when there was no pressure of society to suppress it.

Lying down in bed and tearing down, recalling every statement from the past was kinda a routine. Sometines it felt like if she didn't release her anguish through tears, nerves of her brain would explode.

She pulled her untiddy, shapeless and shaggy long dark brown hair up in a bun and fixed them with a catcher. She started to brush her teeth, being late already, she quickly got dressed, wrapping a head scarf around her head and went downstairs.

She entered kitchen and started making breakfast for everyone. It was rare when she done that but sometimes she felt like starting her day by cooking something.

This house consisted of her, her Uncle and Aunt and their three children , Omer & Aahil - the boys, Inaya was the girl.

House as usual was silent because no one woke up this early. After fajar everyone slept back. She was an early riser.

She started to plate out the omelette and put other things on dining table.

That was when someone came in. She turned around only to find Omer but then busied herself in work. It was long ago when she used to drool over this guy.

She mentally sighed for being a stupid teenager back then. He only saw her as a cousin. But it wasn't her fault either, he seemed to be a model straight out of a fashionshow - ready to walk down the ramp and steal the night. His features were quite sharp and appealing.

He definitely was the man about town!

She heard the opening and closing of fridge, her mind focusing on the juice she was pouring in the jug and as she turned to get going but bumped her face into his shoulder.

"Careful." Omer uttered, his hand stretched to grab a glass from the cabinet on the wall. She hadn't realised they were standing so close.

She nodded and got a pretty hold of the tray. She lined her lips irritatingly that the juice had over-brimmed because of the jolt but thankfully she hadn't spilled it completely.