Freeing or Fleeing

Chapter Twenty-Two - The Queen of Drama

Chapter twenty-two

Ya Allah, I'm in need of all the good you can provide for me. Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem, Ya Ghafururraheem, please forgive me for all I have done. Ya Allah, please bring me close to you, so close that I cannot get any closer. Ya Allah, please guide ––

"Hafeezah, your phone... oh, you're praying," Khadra entered the room.

I sat on the prayer mat, my hands raised in front of me and my vision blurred with tears. I quickly rubbed my eyes, hoping to wipe away any evidence of crying, without completing my du'as and smiled up at her. If she had noticed, she didn't comment on it. After the incident with Mum, I ran over to Khadra's place. Of course, she wasn't there as she was still picking up stuff from the shops but Khala was and upon seeing her when she opened the door, I thrust myself onto her, finally allowing myself to cry. I was in such an emotional state that I hadn't taken note of her appearance, one where she was ready to go out. Without another word, Khala wrapped her arms around me and lead me to the living room. She waited. And waited until my cries turned into sniffs, just holding me.

"Khala," I croaked, eventually facing her.

"Shh, no it's okay. Let me go get you some water." She wiped my cheeks and got up.

While I was left alone, I circled back to my life at present. After all, this is what my life lead to. I always thought marriage would be my escape; my clear sky after seasons and seasons of thunder and rain but alas when one chapter of a tornado ended, another had begun.

"Here you go," Khala spoke, breaking me out of my trance.

I took the glass out of her hand and could only handle taking a sip before I placed it on the coffee table.

"Khala..." I looked at her apologetically. "I'm so sorry, I don't mean to be such a ––"

"Now missy, what are you apologising for? Now, why don't you just tell me what happened?"

She grabbed my right hand and slowly massaged my palm.

"I...uhm, I..." I didn't know where to begin. From my parents, from when I got married or from when Mum came to stay with us? "I'm sorry."

I lowered my gaze. I'd be frustrated if someone came to me evidently upset and unable to say why. Why would you come to me if you won't tell me what's wrong?

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you know what helps me when I'm upset?" she waited for me to look at her. "Speaking to Allah (SWT). Why don't you go upstairs to Khadra's room and let it all out? She's not home yet."

And that's what I did. I don't know if it was ten minutes or twenty or even forty minutes but I only stopped when Khadra came into the room. She was stripped of all her outerwear; no abaya and no hijab, just a long sleeve top and a pair of jeans. Had she come into her room and changed without me knowing? She must have noticed my questioning mind but somehow misread it too.

"Oh, sorry, I wouldn't have disturbed you but Dula Bhai has been blowing up your phone for ages. He won't stop calling and messaging," she answered.

I had accidently left my phone downstairs before I came into her room earlier. Khadra handed me my phone as it began to ring again. I let it go to voicemail and checked the time. Oh, it had only been six minutes. Why did it feel so much longer?

"When did you get in?" I asked, placing my phone next to me on the prayer mat.

"Only about two minutes ago. Aren't you going to answer that?" She took a seat on her bed.

I wanted to answer, I really did. But the emotions were too raw. I was angry. I was upset. I was in pain. I just needed time.

"I didn't hear you come into the room to change your clothes."