Take off your Hijab (Rewriting)

The girl next door✅

"Some friendships don't break; they unravel, thread by thread. One day you wake up, and the fabric that held you together is just... gone. But the memories? Those linger, like echoes in a room you no longer visit." – Amal

Third person's POV

Turning back to Ayana, Amal took a deep breath, trying to steady herself against the tidal wave of memories crashing over her. "So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked, cutting straight to the point, wanting to get this over with.

Amal leaned against the wall of the empty corridor, her heart racing as she stared at Ayana, who stood a few feet away. The air felt thick with tension, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Ayana's eyes were pleading, searching Amal's face for a sign of understanding, but all Amal felt was the weight of the past pressing down on her.

They stood in that empty corridor, the silence echoing around them, amplifying the distance that had grown between them. Ayana's eyes flickered with guilt—maybe even regret. Her lips moved, spilling out words that Amal struggled to grasp: sorry, foolish, dumb, young, sorry again.

Amal's mind raced, only catching fragments of Ayana's ramblings. **Hold up. Why was she even apologizing?**

"Hold up," Amal interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended. "Why are you apologizing?"

Ayana's eyes flickered with emotion, her voice soft but trembling. "Because I'm really sorry. I didn't know what I was thinking. I—"

"So, you came here to ask for my forgiveness?" Amal's words hung heavy between them, a weight they both felt.

Ayana nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes."

"It's a lot to forgive, you know," Amal finally said, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. She crossed her arms defensively, trying to shield herself from the memories that threatened to overwhelm her.

Ayana opened her mouth, then closed it, seemingly at a loss for words. "I know I hurt you," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "And I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if we could—"

"—move on?" Amal interrupted, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Is that really all you think it takes? Just a few words and we're supposed to forget everything that happened?"

Ayana flinched at the edge in Amal's voice, and for a moment, Amal felt a pang of guilt. But the hurt was too fresh, the scars too visible for her to let it go. "You can't just waltz back into my life and expect me to act like nothing happened," she continued, her voice rising. "It's not that simple!"

"I don't expect you to forget," Ayana replied, her tone earnest. "I just... I thought maybe we could start fresh. I didn't realize how much I hurt you until recently. I'm seeing a therapist."

Amal took a deep breath, her anger simmering down, but the hurt remained. "That's good for you, but you don't get to do that to me again this time, Ayana. You don't get to decide how I should feel about this whole situation," she said, her voice softer now, but firm.

"You don't understand what it's like to feel so isolated and worthless because of the things you said. You made me doubt myself, Ayana. That's not something I can just erase."

The silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words. Amal felt her heart ache as she remembered the loneliness that had crept into her life after their last encounter. The laughter they once shared now felt like a distant memory, a ghost that haunted her. "It's not just about you and me; it's about everything I've had to deal with since then," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I've worked so hard to build myself back up, and you want me to just let it all go?"