Letters to God

The Fourth Letter

The morning sun peeked through my window, casting a warm glow across my room. But despite the brightness outside, a heaviness weighed on my heart. I had barely slept, haunted by the memories of last night—Fahad's rage, his possessive grip, and the confusion that left me questioning my own feelings.

As I walked into school, I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the anxiety that clung to me like a shadow. I spotted my friends in the cafeteria, laughter spilling over as they chatted animatedly. I forced a smile, reminding myself that I had to stay strong. But my resolve faltered when I caught sight of him—Fahad, leaning against the lockers, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he surveyed the hall.

My heart raced as I made my way to class, but I knew I couldn't avoid him forever. The encounter was inevitable. During the morning lecture, I felt his eyes on me, a simmering intensity that made it hard to concentrate. Each time I glanced his way, I could see him smirking, as if he were reveling in the turmoil he caused within me.

After class, I decided to grab a quick bite before heading to the next one. As I walked through the bustling cafeteria, my heart sank when I saw Fahad standing there, his tall frame commanding attention. He was surrounded by friends, but his gaze was fixed on me, cutting through the noise like a knife. His sharp jawline and striking features, which once drew me in, now felt like a warning sign.

"Hey, Tahira!" Ahmad called out, waving me over. He was a kind soul, always supportive, and I appreciated his presence as I approached him. We chatted about the upcoming school events, my nerves beginning to ease. The familiarity of our conversation offered a momentary escape from the storm brewing in my mind.

But that brief respite was short-lived. I felt Fahad's presence grow nearer, the air around us thickening with tension. I tried to ignore him, focusing on Ahmad, but I could sense the storm approaching. Just as I began to relax, I felt Fahad's piercing gaze boring into me, and his voice cut through the laughter.

"What's so interesting?" he asked, a sarcastic edge to his tone.

I turned to see him approaching, his expression darkening. "Ahmad, isn't it?" he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "What do you think you're doing talking to her?" His words were sharp, filled with possessiveness that made my stomach churn.

"Just chatting," Ahmad replied, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course it is!" Fahad snapped, the tension rising like a tidal wave. "You think you can just take her away from me?"

I felt the eyes of my peers on us, the cafeteria suddenly falling silent. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Fahad, this isn't how things work. We can talk to whoever we want," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Fahad stepped closer, invading my space, his hands clenching into fists. "You think you can just brush me off after last night?" His voice was low, almost menacing. "You can't act like everything is normal. You belong to me, Tahira. You know that."

His words struck a nerve, igniting a fire within me. "I don't belong to anyone!" I shot back, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. "I am my own person. I'm tired of being treated like some prize to be won!"

Fahad's expression shifted, a mix of rage and something darker—a twisted desire that sent chills down my spine. "You think this is a game? You're playing with fire, and I won't let you get burned by anyone else." He stepped even closer, his body radiating an intimidating energy that made it hard to breathe.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Students began to disperse, but I was frozen in place, caught in the eye of the storm. I felt a mix of fear and defiance swell inside me. I wanted to stand my ground, but the fear of what he might do next loomed over me.