Scarred Petals

Chapter 1

The diamond on her finger glinted under the light as she raised her hands for dua. A tear slid down her face and her eyes clenched shut painfully. There was only one thing she could ask for from her Creator:

Ya Allah, please fix everything, make everything right. And forgive my father, have mercy on him.

She bent down with much effort and lifted the prayer mat off the cold floor to fold it. With a knock, the door to her room opened and she instantly smiled when she saw her mother enter, a tasbeeh in her hands.

A soft sound filled the room as Fariya moved into her wheelchair. "Asalam Alaikum, Mama." She greeted her mother while removing the dupatta from her head to drape it around her neck.

Sadaf smiled grimly at the sight of her daughter in a wheelchair, her right leg wrapped in bandages. "Walaikum Asalam. Let's go out, the doctor should be here any minute." She informed Fariya, who nodded and operated the remote on her wheelchair once again to exit the room behind her mother.

With the help of her mother, she shifted from the wheelchair and onto the sofa with her hands folded in her lap. Because she was looking down, her gaze fell on the scar that ran from the ring on her finger to the bandage wrapped around her wrist.

She'd lost everything two months ago in a tragic car accident. However, tragic seemed a word too small to describe what she went through that afternoon.

She looked up when the bell rang, and on instinct, she almost tried to get up from the sofa to attend to it- only to fall back down on the sofa with a sigh. There was barely anything she could do herself now.

"Asalam Alaikum!" The middle-aged woman, Dr. Rida, chirped as she followed Maliha, the maid, into the lounge. She took her seat on the sofa beside Fariya, immediately getting to work to look at her bandages.

"Have you tried to walk again, Fariya?" The doctor asked sweetly, moving her leg as she did so. Fariya dipped her head in answer. She had. She had tried to get up on her feet every chance she got, but she would never be able to take more than a few steps before her leg gave out under her and she was forced to sit down again.

"And could you try again, in front of me? I just have to see your progress." She held onto her arm for encouragement, passing her a grin.

Fariya rubbed the side of her neck, feeling the scars there. "Would you... Would you mind giving me a hand to help me up? Getting up on my own is still a little hard." She muttered hesitantly, but the doctor was quick on her feet as she got up and held out her hand for Fariya to take and stand up. Gathering all the force in her left hand, she tightly gripped Rida's hand and forced herself up on her legs. She waited a few seconds to steady her injured leg before releasing her doctor's hand and slowly lifting her left leg to take the first step.

She felt like a baby learning to walk. Except, she didn't have her father's finger to hold onto as she walked. She'd lost him, too, in that accident.

Tears of frustration stung her eyes when she felt her leg trembling under her, a second before she collapsed onto the ground, shame filling her. Her doctor and mother were immediately on her sides, helping her back up onto the wheelchair behind her.

"I'm so sorry, it's... it's just..." She struggled to form the right words, and instead covered her face with her hands, too embarrassed to face anyone.

She had become utterly useless.

A warm hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing it in support. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Fariya. You know, you're recovering way quicker than most of my patients. And the brave are who get up every time they fall, right? There's nothing to worry about, you'll be okay and back on your feet in no time." The doctor gave Fariya a pat on the back before crouching down in front of her. "For now, it's time to take off your bandage. Without the bandage, it will be easier to walk, I assure you."

She stopped the woman by grabbing her wrist. "I'll do it." She didn't like the idea of her doctor on the floor in front of her, but Rida wasn't hearing any of it as she swatted Fariya's hand away and unclipped the gauze from her knee and unwrapped it to reveal smooth skin underneath. While her lower leg had gotten away without any scars, the bones of her leg from under her knee had shattered so badly that Rida had so somberly told her that whenever she managed to walk properly, it would always be with a limp.

"Now all I need you to do is take care of yourself and keep practicing how to walk. Try to move your right hand ad much as you can. Always keep doing something with it. The trembles will subside eventually. Just don't give up, understood?" Rida narrowed her eyes playfully as if talking to a child. A smile got the better of Fariya as she watched her mother escort the doctor out. She threw her back against the wheelchair, looking heavenward as she sighed wistfully.

Oh, what could have been had that truck never collided with her father's car that day. Her father had passed away on impact as the truck had hit his side of the car. Many would consider Fariya lucky, scold her of being ungrateful every time she wished to have died that day, too. She didn't consider herself lucky at all. Her father had died, her leg and arm had shattered, her body was painted with scars that would always haunt her, be a permanent reminder of the day she lost her father.

She wasn't exactly lucky.

Sadaf stood afar, watching her daughter. Fariya had that look on her face that she always had when she internally beating herself for surviving the accident.

"Allah sab behtar karega." She repeated the words she'd said every day for the past two months to reassure Fariya. She curled her hand over her mother's on her shoulder, looking up at her with a small smile.

*"Allah will make everything better."

"In Sha Allah." She said, even though she was slowly losing hope. Her faith in her Lord was all that was keeping her alive now. She was suffering, floundering without her father and with everything she'd went through. Only she knew how she struggled to look into the mirror. Or how she couldn't sleep peacefully most nights and would wake up crying, screaming and sweating with nightmares of the accident. Those nights were when she was extremely thankful to have her room on a different floor altogether from her mother's room. She was enough of a burden to her already, she didn't want to bother her with her nightmares, too.

She'd had to stare into the lifeless eyes of her father for an hour before anyone had caught sight of the accident.

"Mama, I sometimes wish I'd died that day, too." She admitted to her mother as she traced the tip of her finger against the groove on the underside of her jaw.

Another one of her many scars.

Her mother gasped and sat on the sofa next to Fariya, looking at her with hurt shimmering in her eyes. "And what would I have done then? If I'd lost my husband, and my daughter, do you think I would've been able to live?"

She leaned in closer and put her arms around her mother to hug her and bury her face in the crook between her neck and shoulder. "I'm selfish, aren't I? I didn't even think of you, all this must be hard for you, too."

Sadaf tightly hugged her daughter back, battling to keep her tears at bay. "You are the one in more pain. I'll be okay, and so will you. I'm always here for you, and once you get married, you'll be too occupied with your life to think of anything else."

Involuntarily, both the women's eyes flitted to the diamond ring on Fariya's finger.

"Baba was supposed to be here for my wedding, Mama. He'd-he'd been so excited when I got engaged." Fariya's voice cracked as she remembered her father's smiling face.

Sadaf rubbed her back reassuringly when she felt the wetness of Fariya's tears falling on her neck. "Everything will be okay."

Everything will have to be okay. Fariya wasn't too sure how long she could endure the pain for.