Journal of a Teenage Muslim.

Chapter 26 - Artworks & Shipping Clerks

I had gotten myself so wrapped up in my entry art peice, I had forgotten about almost everything else! The only thing that always kept lingering at the back of my mind was what Mazin had told me about Zeke's dad. Thank God it was a long weekend so I had four days till we were back in school and I had to face him. I could easily avoid him for the whole day, the only problem was that he sat next to me in English and there was no way I could stay away from him then.

I sat in my basement looking at all my mom's old things. Miss Mitchells said I needed to get inspired to draw something 'fab'. I had already got an image of what I was going to do..

"Don't try and put a message into the entry peice, they may not like it and won't accept it." Azalea had advised me earlier on in the day.

I had looked through my mom's jewellery, her hijabs, her clothes, her pictures, almost everything, and now I had gotten the perfect inspiration for my entry piece.

"How's it coming along?" Dad asked as I climbed back upstairs.

"Pretty good actually," I grinned.

"That's great, you should make a plan peice first and then do a final one, it usually turns out better that way." Dad apprised.

"How'd you know so much about art dad?" I asked.

"There's a lot you don't know my dear,"

"You have no idea," I muttered trying not to think about all that I had found out in the last few weeks.

"Oh, we're going out for dinner tonight, a big dinner to celebrate new years. Mazin picked the restaurant and Auntie Aasiyah and Azalea and her mom will be coming as well." Dad told me.

"Sounds like fun," I said.

I went upstairs to my bedroom, looking out of my window. I remember Dad taking me to 'Wonderland' when I was younger to see the new year's fireworks. Each year he would tell me the same thing; 'It's not too late to start over'. I could imagine my mom saying something like that. I realised something now, thinking of her actually didn't hurt so much. What had been hurting all those years was thinking about the way she had died, but I had never taken too much time to actually think about her as a person. Mainly because the thought her death came popping into my mind as soon as I pictured her beautiful face. But now when I thought of her, I felt comfort, I felt proud, that my mom had the courage and bravery, something I was beginning to develop. All this had tought me that when the time comes, you need to stand up for who you are and what you believe in, no matter how many people are against you, or who is trying to threaten you. If you believe in something than fight for it, and it will always be worth it.

"Dad is it ok if I go out for a walk? It feels kind of stuffy in here,"

"Ok, but be back early, you need to get ready for dinner." Dad replied.

"Ok," I nodded and shut the door behind me.

It's funny how people think that girls who wear hijab are oppressed by their fathers or brothers or whatever. It's funny how they think that they have no freedom. My dad gave me all the freedom in the world. Sure at times he could be overprotective but aren't all parents? They worry to much and think of the worst possible situation that could happen but in the end they trust you.

I was walking past the lake that was half frozen, there were icebergs floating around on the crystal blue water. I loved this place in the summer, espicially when the sun was setting, it was like the perfect sunset scene!

There was an overgrown hedge surrounding most of the lake hiding me from most of the view. I was about to puch my way through the thorny, leafless branches when I saw quiet an unusual sight. There was a small ship on the lake, pulled up right where the land and water met. There was a shipping clerk talking to the captain of the ship, he nodded and than shook hands with the captain and took out a small box from the back of the ship. The box was about the size of the water bottle and was completely sealed, there was a sign on the side of the box but I couldn't make it out, I was too far away.

"It's just a box," I told myself, "No big deal."

But somewhere inside me, something told me otherwise.

I got home in the evening and went straight to take a hot bath, the thing I enjoyed most when I had a troubled mind. It calmed me down.

After I'd showered, I combed back my curly brown hair and tied it into a bun. Than took out what was on top of the pile and threw it on. I wasn't obsessed about fashion at all. In fact I couldn't care less. Not very girly.. I know.

The bell rang.

"Maydah it's Mazin, could you get it?" Dad called.

I went downstairs, not yet ready, I still had to wear my hijab and a jacket since my t-shirt was short sleeved.

"Salaam Mazin,"

He greeted me back.

"Mazin, we're almost ready - " Dad started.

"It's ok dad, he came early anyways," I teased.

Dad grinned and went upstairs to get ready.

"I'm just going to get my hijab and a jacket," I said rushing upstairs.

I looked at the picture of my mom and I on my sidetable before twirling my dark blue hijab around my head and slipping on my jacket.

"So how's life," Mazin asked. I knew what he was really asking was 'How are you dealing with the news.'

"It's ok," I said, "Do ships usually come on the lake?" I asked randomly.

"Not usually." Mazin answered but his mind was wandering.

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Ok guys, chill, I know this chapter was short and not much action and stuff but I promise I'm uploading tomorow!! I just wanted to post something for new years :))