A Muslimah's Story {EDITING}

Chapter 1

  

I jump out of bed as my alarm rings for the 5th time already. I groan loudly, as I look in the mirror towards my mussled hair as my feet hit my soft, plush carpet laid out on the hardwood floor. Sighing, I inch up closer to the mirror, yawning once more and stretching, rubbing my eye in the process. Yeah, I do them all at the same time. I'm like that. A multi tasked Especially if it means I earn myself more time to devour my breakfast.

          As if my stomach hears this thought, a startling rumble starts through my stomach, leaving me both shocked and amused. I was mid yawn when that happened, and it sure stopped my yawn.

  I grab my brush off my dresser, combing away. Long hair is really hard to handle, and mine reaches to my waist. I tie it in a pony tail for now, because there is about two hours or so left till school. I know, I know. It's so early. Two solid hours to get ready! But what can I say? I want more time to eat and scroll through Pinterest and talk to my family in the mornings. All at the same time. I know, I know. You heard it the first time. I'm a multi tasker. Not to mention, I have to pray fajr.

    I take a long and refreshing shower, humming softly. I pray my Fajr prayer, then I pull on a nice pink and long dress along with pale yellow sandals and a matching hijab. I also wear a pink patterned leather jacket and add pale yellow oversized purse, which has all my school supplies and other essential needs. I also stuff a tube of lip gloss that I just applied to my lips into my purse, a small tube of mascara in case, and some nude liquid lipstick if I feel like it later. My makeup is really light; I just did my brows really quick, swiped some lip gloss on, some concealer, a little bit of foundation and mascara of course. Always mascara. Adding in the right style to any outfit helps you dress modestly and stylishly. You just gotta think about it.

   By the time I've gotten ready there is an hour left until I have to get to school. I rush out of my room, my purse stuffed with all my books hanging off one shoulder. I have the advantage of checking my minimal makeup in the mirror because as I exit my room, which is in the hallway, there's a mirror smack on the wall in front of it. Great, right?

   As I skip down the wide hallway that contains me and my brother's room, and past the double shut doors of my parent's just right in front, past the spiralling stairs, my elder brother,Sahib, hugs me. Oh, this ain't normal. I back up, scrunching up my face at him.

   "What's up with all the love?" I laugh. I do enjoy my overprotective brother. . . most of the time.

     "Nothing. Just you look wonderful mashallah. And wish me luck please, I have the test today.." He groans. He rolls his perfect hazel eyes that match my own.

   "Thank you, and I totally forgot! Oh my god good luck, inshallah, you'll succeed. Due to all the studying, I know you will do great." I stick two pancakes in the toaster and hum as I work around the kitchen, my stomach grumbling loudly.

   "Thanks, Iqra." He smiles. He is studying to be a doctor. It takes five years, and he is on his last year. He is twenty-four, while I am twenty. In my degree, a language degree, it takes 1 year.

   "It's the truth." I smile, truthfully, as my mom walks into the kitchen, her light brown hair combed back and her smile warm.

   "Salam, Mama." Me and Sahil blurt at the same time, which makes us laugh. Sometimes I feel like my brother can be the most annoying thing ever invented, and I want to jab a knife into him, but other times, not so much. I feel a tight bond and I know it's there, beyond the irrational comments and annoying teases he gives me mostly everyday. I don't let him get away with it, though. I mean, who does?