On cold winter, when the sun shy away from the sky and the waves of frost breeze, carrying tiny flakes of crystals, never hesitated to enter the mouth of a young girl, standing on the edge of window.
The flakes of ice melted on her warm tongue but it never stopped the angry rumble of her empty belly. The wind kissed every fold of the clumsy hijab, fixed by her toddle hands.
Her twin had also have his tongue stuck out to catch the freezed liquid.
Thud
The sound made her look over her shoulder, her elder sister was investigating their unused fridge for the fifth time, but She had already checked every container, there was no hope of finding any particle to eat.
"Hannah, let it be, there is nothing in it to eat." Her twin was growing irritational, he stopped the urge to shout the sense in her.
She saw how he chewed his tongue between his molars, stoned his eyes, curling fingers into square ball, and swallowed his anger. Cause It was the fifth lesson taught to the young ones:
Anger leads to death.
But Hannah being herself, once again opened the lid of the milk bottle only to find it hallow, not even a drop fell in her open mouth when she jolted it upside down.
Hannah dropped on the floor board, like a yellow leaf of spring, lower lip quivering, sniffed twice, tears filled the brim of her eyes, eyes roaming for comfort.
Before she could get scattered in a mess of wails and whines, her mother standing for a long time on the doorstep, rushed and spooned her firstborn in her arms.
"Shh... my Hannah... daddy is going to bring a lot of food for you."
"When mama?"
"Soon... very soon, my love." Her mother kissed her forehead, rocking her in arms.
The twins knew that their mother's words were far from being true. But their mother's words were able to provide them fond sleep full of dreams.
"In the era, when Islam wasn't famous, the world was drowned in ignorance, there used to live a slave, people say he had the skin dark as charcoal. His name was Bilal... " the tell-tale voice of the mother was dripped in honey, it always warmed her children's belly.
"Alina," often in the quietness of nights, Hannah nudged her young sister. "I pray for a husband, so we can play tomorrow."
"Alina?" She whispered, got nothing but a nod, "What do you pray for? A husband?"
"Maybe..." Alina was too shy to admit, she ducked her face under the covers.
"I want one, like Umer, brave and scary. You?" She elbowed her once again.
"Anything I get, I won't reject, will never reject." Conversation like this keeps Alina's face warm and red.
Time overlapped over years, struggling against the wind, Alina didn't let go the string which she was tieing to her unknown husband. Like a knot, bond grew strong with each tug of her rough life.
Her love never faded in the delusional scents of world.
Gaining what she longed for, was no scholar, but an alcoholic smoker, with a status of a kafir. Damien, with neither the knowledge of the book, nor with a heart of a noble.
The question was that will she reject, : No, never.
Muslims doesn't go back from their words.
"I didn't meant to love her." Alina slide against the wood, hallow eyes gazing at her fate, the words were hunting Damien, his husband but Alina could taste the bitter words on the tip of her tongue.
YOU ARE READING
Wanted to be loved (Islamic Story)
Spiritual"You will do it. You have to teach me. I will make you do it." He took a step toward me. I didn't stepped back, expressing that I was not afraid, ready for anything. "I will inform the Principal that you have caused another plight. And he will blind...
