Trust Me (Fiction Based On Islamic Faith)

Chapter 58

I sit in the cab, and everything floods over me. Basma... Oh Allah... Basma.

I almost go insane again thinking of her.

Why is everything so complicated? I close my eyes and the faces of the people I care about flash before my eyes; Mom, Pops, Mama, Baba, Maliha, Ahmed, and Azar, and Azar's face lingers the most.

I don't want to care about him anymore, yet guilt crawls into my chest. I look at my bandaged hand, with a wave of disbelief. Azar pressed on my cut, and I lost my sanity. I stained his shirt with my blood, I tell myself repeatedly, trying to register my actions.

Did I break him? Did my words break him? I ask myself, remembering the tears in his eyes. Why would he cry when he is the one who wants me to go for good?

What am I thinking? He doesn't need me. I was never enough for him. It is a good thing I left. I pushed him over the edge. I pushed him. He'll find better than me. He doesn't deserve the cost of my love. He doesn't deserve those tears. He doesn't deserve to be put in situations where there is no exit. He doesn't deserve my burdens.

I force myself to not think about him, and my thoughts rush back to the cruel reality. You have to leave regardless, Abeer, a voice reminds me of the bitter truth. You have to face your fear even if it kills you. You have got no choice. You can't run. You can't let Basma face the worst of Raheesh. This is your destiny. This is your end.

I am heading straight into an endless pit of darkness, and this might be the last time I am seeing the sun. I look outside the window and try to memorize every single thing passing by, how the light reflects off the road, how the trees zoom by, and how the people in the next car look happy with their families. I never got to make the "outside" in. The silence in the cab seems to mourn my helplessness, and it looks like the sky is going to cry soon too.

I clasp my hands tightly and pray silently.

Allah, give me the strength and the courage to face what I'm going to face. I need You now more than ever before. Let my faith in You be stronger than my fear of death and my fear of him. Only You can save me now, Allah.

When I escaped from Raheesh the first time, I barely knew You, but Iyaas had made sure before dying that I know You helped me. I held onto You, and I am gripping as tight now too, yet my faith is running low, Oh Lord. I see no way out. I need no less than a miracle, and if death is what is welcoming me, then I welcome death with open arms. I beg You to help me, Oh Allah, help me with my faith, help me with my fear, help me in every difficulty, and I beg You to do whatever's best for me and Basma. Please save her from him, Allah.

I reach, and only fifteen minutes are left from the two-hour deadline. I hurry to the rooftop and halt when I find myself standing on the ledge, in front of me none other than the man I wished I never met. "What a day, angel! What a day," he celebrates with a malicious grin. "We meet here again."

Fear suffocates me as I remember how I jumped off the same spot Raheesh is standing on. After my parents kicked me out of the house, Raheesh chased me to the roof, and I had chosen death over going back to him, and a part of me still is ready to die rather than face him.

Raheesh opens his arms to the cloudy sky and laughs as if it is the happiest day of his life.

His laughter rings in my ears, and my insides freeze.

How come I'm back here? I think, trying to not collapse.

Why did I scream in my nightmares? They were nothing, nothing compared to the harsh reality I am facing right now.

I can't scream. I can't move. I can't run. I can't breathe. Am I even alive?

My life's a circle; I'm the hamster running aimlessly. Why don't I just stop trying? Why do I even fight?