Islamically Yours

Chapter Six ~ Boxing Bag?

• Bismillahirahmanalrahim •

Please if you guys haven't prayed yet make sure you stop reading, pray and return. This story can wait but Allah (swt) only knows that time doesn't.

Enjoy reading and May Allah (swt) grant all those reading this firdous.

Salams,
Your Sister In Islam
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Adam's POV
I grumbled as I was pushed or dragged rather to the therapy room to begin my rehabilitation. It had a been an agonising week of surgical procedures but my prosthetic leg had finally been 'installed.' There was a complication with the attachment of my nerves to the machinery which resulted in more surgery but it was finally working and I was on the road to recovery which could range anything from 3 months to a year. I planned on it being the former.

As I was wheeled into the room I was met with an array of different gym equipment and other machinery. The sight was surprisingly pleasing as before the 'fall' I would try to hit the gym every other day resulting in a body I was nothing short of proud of. Luckily that hadn't changed much considering I wasn't really eating but I was sure that all this lying around would definitely catch up with me soon.

"I'll leave him in your capable hands Rayyaan" the nurse said as she walked off. My eyes travelled around the room looking for this 'Rayyaan' person. However, I didn't see anyone in the room. That was weird...

With that thought in mind I spotted what looked like a black punching bag leaning on the wall. It would need some filling but boxing had always been a great stress reliever for me and I was excited to get back into it. Much to my surprise the black punching bag began to move towards me...what the?!

"Hi Mr Summers. My name is Rayyaan and I'm going to be your rehabilitation physiotherapist for the next part of your recovery." A voice soft yet confident rang out from the black punching bag. I could see nothing but a face hovering in the air.

"What on earth are you wearing?" I stated confused.
"Uh this is what we call a hijab in Islam. It's a head covering with loose clothing and a state of character. To keep my modesty"
"But why...why would you barricade yourself like that??"
"It's not a barricade, quite the opposite really. Let me ask you a question Mr.Summers, you seem to have wealth, that is clear, am I right?"
"Yeah..." I replied confused as to the direction of this conversation.
"I have a simple request, what is the pin code to your bank account?"
"Excuse me? How dare you-" I fumed, how shallow could this woman be!
"My point precisely. Money is precious therefore it is protected and secured. Covered and exclusive to a certain few. Now I ask you your question, why would you barricade your money like that?"
"Touché" I simply replied in awe and dazed.

"Now that that's over let's begin. We're going to start with simply getting you to stand up. I'll give you a pair of crutches and you can lean on me for support."

A/N ~ Guys please remember that in circumstances of medical need the restrictions of 3awra, interaction and physical contact are loosened.

I was ready to comply with all her orders if that meant I could leave this place, unless of course other means would allow me to achieve this quicker.

She returned with my crutches and I hesitantly held them. "Buzmelah" I heard her mutter. Unknowingly as to the reason I snapped, call it nerves or simply my wounded pride at having being stuck in this place but I rudely spoke, "What's with all the voodoo language?! First that old man and now you!! Look it's bad enough you look like a cylinder with a face but on top of that you want to mumble your little voodoo. Quit it!"

Much to my surprise she laughed, "Mr Summers if you think that's what it's going to take to intimidate me then you a surely wrong. As for the cylinder comment, why thank you! I'm quite sure cylinder is the new black this year. And in reference to my 'voodoo' I was simply starting the treatment with the name of God. Keep your hair on! Now about the old man, I don't know what you're talking about but I'd like to think you were raised to speak better of your elders" she retorted. To say her response was a surprise would be an understatement but my rage blinded me from all other thoughts as I replied, "How dare you speak to me about how I should have been raised! I can call that old man whatever I want. I don't need his or your self righteous charity thank you very much!"
"Hmm...this old man intrigues me now knowing I share his self righteous generosity. Who is he?"
"The stupid man in the bed next to me."
"What room?"
"Room 327."

She sharply in took her breathe, eyes aflame and slowly spoke, "I know that patient, Osama Rahmah. Your clear arrogance has blinded you from seeing let along appreciating the value of that man. Your degradation of him is childish and in clear contrast of his character. Osama or should I day Dr Osama is actually a doctor who was working in Palestine doing humanitarian work. On the way home from the hospital one stormy night he was struck by lightening. Adding to this was the fact that the way home was through an abandoned and old bomb field long out of use. But the strike of lightening caused a bomb to explode beneath him. Both legs were lost as irreparable damage to his muscle tissue. And unlike you, he is unable to undergo procedure for bionic legs due to complications in his old age. He will be in an wheelchair for the rest of his life! And yet despite all this, he is a favoured patient among all healthcare professionals in this hospital. That man always makes us smile and is one of the kindest people I know. So before you start speaking, I suggest you watch what you say carefully Mr Summers." I looked into her eyes and could see the flame within. It was clear I had hit a nerve. In saying this, her words actually struck a cord with my heart. Here I was assuming my problems were the worst and yet look at Osama. He even prayed for me and so I mentally vowed to stop harassing him.

However, the women in front of me was clearly another story. Despite my initial presumption of a quiet and mousy girl, this woman clearly had a strong sense of justice and wasn't afraid to voice it. Not exactly feisty but intelligent none the less. Which meant only one thing...I would have to get rid of her and quickly. So instead of firing another insult as she expected, I lowered me head and softly said, "you are right Doc. Forgive me for my ignorance. I would like to make it up to you by making your job a lot easier. I'll pay you half a million dollars as compensation and you write that my progress is doing excellent. That way you get the money, time and me off your hands. So what do you say princess?" I winked.

"First and foremost I don't need your money. So no thank you, and I'll graciously not report you for bribery. Secondly, as difficult as you may be I do this job for the improvement and journey that my patients undergo. I want to see you become a stronger individual. I can not believe how shallow you could possibly think I was to even consider your offer!!! And thirdly, I'll write that your progress is doing excellent when it actually is. So in the mean time as 'compensation' I will no longer see you for today. And you can wait another 3 days to see me, adding to your long list of time here. Mr Summers, I suggest you get used to me because if you think this is a game you can play, then get ready ready because I'm the coach, princess" she mocked.

My mouth hung open as I growled whilst returning to my horrible room. That nerve of that woman!