His Hafizah and her Hafiz

Weekend

وَقَالَ رَبُّكُمُ ادْعُونِي أَسْتَجِبْ لَكُمْ إِنَّ الَّذِينَ يَسْتَكْبِرُونَ عَنْ عِبَادَتِي سَيَدْخُلُونَ جَهَنَّمَ دَاخِرِينَ

And your Lord says: Call upon Me, I will answer you; surely those who are too proud for My worship shall soon enter hell abased. (al-Mu'min, 40)

Safoora POV:

The weeks were passing by in a blurr and I was repeating the same schedule again and again. Today was Saturday, it meant hifz class was only for half the day and then we were dismissed. For the remainder of the day we were permitted to do anything of our choice. Me and Aisha would hang out with the other girls or play some kind of sport until Maghrib when the teachers would call us in and sent us to our rooms. Some girls would go home to meet thier families for few hours and come back on Monday, but that wasn't the case for us-- our home was miles away. 

Coming out of the washroom, I strode lazily with a yawn, rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes. I looked up at the digital clock hung on top of the wall, and shrieked involuntarily. It was almost nine in the morning. Shoot! I had to get dressed and be in class by then.

 Hawa was sleeping peacefully on her bed while I struggled to get into my abaya. Most weekends, me and Hawa would wake up for Fajr, read Quran and go back to bed. But then, I would have to be up by nine again to get ready for my Quran class, while the lucky person Hawa continued sleeping. 

I always wondered, 'What would it feel like going to school like her?'  Would it feel good, less stressful? But again, as soon as I finished hifz I would be enrolled in school nonetheless and I would be forced to face the wrath of it whether I liked it or not.

I quickly wrapped my long hair in a messy bun and took out my black scarve and loosely threw it around my head. I can pin it up later, but now was my time to surprise Hawa.

I took my gift and gently placed it in a pink gift box tying it carefully with a golden coloured ribbon. I hope she likes it! 

"Hawa!" I chanted, jumping on her bed. Yup, I'm those type of crazy people who don't have the patience to gently wake someone up. "Hawa, Hawa, Hawa, Hawa..."

"What!" She wailed groggily, with her eyes still closed shut. She was used to these kind of nonesenses, knowing pretty clearly that I was pretty crazy.

"It's your big day!" I yelled, like a maniac on top of my lungs still continously jumping on the bed making her bob up and down.

"Safoora stop screaming, I can hear you just fine." She hissed, she took her pillow and stuffed her ears with it to muffle out my voice.

"Guess what I got for you?" I asked cheerfully, roughly pulling her pillow away and throwing it aside. 

Hawa was really pissed, she was trying her best to control her anger. "The reason you woke me up better be good or your dead to night." She growled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes furiously. Her long brown tresses were in a complete mess reminding me of a birds nest, yet she still looked completely beautiful as always.

"Happy Birthday!" I squealed, spreading my arms in the air. "You're finally fifteen!"

"Sorry Safoora, but my family doesn't do birthdays because in Islam birthdays aren't really encouraged." She murmurred, before slumping back on her bed and closing her eyes.

"Not so fast Miss, I have a gift for you." I wailed, trying to pull her back up in her sitting position. "You can't go to sleep!"

"I don't sleep that fast."