Journal of a Teenage Muslim.

Chapter 29 - Kidnapped!

I was strolling around the park on my own. It was still winter but the weather was warmer this afternoon, melting the snow around my feet and leaving reflecting puddles all over the place. A few families had come to play, taking advantage of this fine weather which we would not have next month. February. It was officially my most hated month of the year. The days seemed to be too short and dark and the nights were to long and lonely and bonecold.

I saw a little boy crying, he looked no older than five or six. His mom was not too far away but was too absrobed in a conversation with some other kids mom to realise her son. He had broken his scooter. I remembered the countless amount of times I had done that when I was younger and my mother would simply screw the head back on.

"Don't worry, I can fix your scooter in a second," I told the little kid. He stopped crying and watched me intensly as easily fixed his scooter. "There you go," 

"Wow! How did you do that?" He asked in absolute awe.

"Magic," I grinned.

The boy's mom abruptly came out of no where and picked up her  son.

"We do not talk to strangers," His mom told him. "Espicially ones who dress like that," She muttered to him but loud enough for me to hear.

"Yeah, teach your son to judge people by the way they dress, that sounds right," I gritted my teeth. She turned around and gave a long hard stare before turning away again and walking away.

It's funny how society says don't judge a book by it's cover but  turns around and judges a women by her cover (hijab).

I carried on walking deep in thought. I realised I've been thinking alot more these days. Like not normal thinking, not thinking about normal stuff a teenage girl would think about. But thinking way in depth, about everything, about why people are the way they are. That question has been buggin me for a long time and I still can't seem to find the answer, I just keep repeating the wuestion over and over in my head hoping the answer will pop out of no where but it doesn't.

"Hey Zeke," I called out, just noticing he was about a metre ahead of me.

He turned around noticing me.

"Hey Maydah, how's it going?" He asked, but it really didn't sound like a question, more like a statement. His voice was monotonous and he's eyes were red like he hadn't slept in ages.

"Are you ok?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"Fine," He nodded.

"Are you even for real?" 

"I just found out my dad has another chic." He choked out.

"You mean like.."

"He's cheating on my mom.. I don't know how I've been so blind not to realise."

"Are you sure?" I asked. In my head, it was completely possible for Mr Daniels to do something as propesterous as that, but he was Zeke's dad so I had to tread carefully.

"Positive."

"How did you find out?"

"They were in my house!" He exclaimed. "In a bedroom in my house! My mom was away for a weekend and that lady came!!"

"Calm down," I said, people were turning to look at us.

"Whatever, my dad's a monster, you were right," He mumbled.

"Did you tell your mom about it?" I asked.

"And break her heart?" He blurted out. "I don't know why she's living with that beast anyways, I don't know how they could have gotten married! I don't know..."