BLACK ROSE

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Note: Welcome to my book, dear readers. Our story does not contain +18 content. However, it includes some romance and physical contact. Therefore, I do not recommend it to my young readers under 14 :) Hope you enjoy!

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Grrr! How could he do this to me! My uncle had enrolled me in one of those private schools where girls compete to wear the shortest skirts! Freedom College... Even the name didn't sound good. I guess by "freedom," they meant the freedom of our legs here.

Okay, as a Muslim girl, I might have recently taken my piety to the next level by spending my days and nights at the mosque. Or maybe a few levels up... And yes, I might have told some young couples making out in public to continue their activities at home and annoyed them by sitting next to them and praying loudly when they didn't listen. I suppose I had overstepped my bounds. Unfortunately, those youths knew my uncle, and my actions reached his ears. I had a big blow-up! But still, I didn't deserve to be taken from my beloved Islamic high school and sent to this private school that resembled St. Peter's Basilica as punishment.

According to him, my uncle would end this exile after a year and take me back to my old school, but I didn't know how I would endure this school, which resembled the Private Adultery College, for a year... I wish he had given me a room confinement or thrown a slipper at my butt like any other parent. But my folks were cunning. They knew if they gave me room confinement, I would read the Quran all day. As for the other punishment, my bumper was sturdy and slipper-proof. So those wouldn't work either.

If my parents were alive, I'm sure my fate wouldn't be like this. But after their death, my uncle took care of me, and since he was far from religion, my effort to live Islam to the fullest bothered him, and he didn't like it at all. We were like night and day in religious matters. I was sure he wanted me to say "Hallelujah, hurrah," instead of "Salam Alaikum."

On the first day of my punishment, I had to go to my new school. As I walked down the corridor to my class, I looked up at the ceiling. All the lights were intact and shining brightly. You could easily tell you were in a private school by looking up. In my old school, some of the fluorescent lights had passed on to eternity, and some flirted with us by blinking on and off.

I reluctantly dragged my feet to the door of my new class, almost doing a Michael Jackson moonwalk to avoid going in. Before entering, I sighed and tugged at the grey school skirt that came to my knees, but the laws of physics didn't allow the fabric to stretch and cover my legs. My uncle had bought this short skirt as a punishment, and there was nothing I could do. I already missed my old school skirt that reached my ankles.

According to the freedom-far rules of Freedom College, headscarves were not allowed here. I had also removed my headscarf as per the school regulations. Although I had only recently started wearing a headscarf, removing it had saddened me greatly. Being used to modest clothing, I felt like a fish out of water now.

After cursing my new school shirt, which was pale pink and so thin that it revealed my bra, I opened the door to my class. I entered.

When all the heads in my approximately twenty-person class turned to me, my furrowed brows and narrowed eyes targeted their gazes. Since the class had started about ten minutes ago, our bearded, bespectacled, stout, intellectual teacher had turned his head to me from his podium.

Suddenly, dozens of different voices rang in my ears. Dozens of different emotions invaded my heart and mind. Why? Because I was a telepath. Yes, you heard it right. I can hear what people are thinking without them having to say it. I can feel everything they feel as if I am feeling it myself. Although this sounds like a great superpower, believe me, it is not. Because when you learn people's true thoughts about you, you often wish you didn't know.