Life of a Crazy Muslimah

Author's Note:

Hi and Salaam guys! This is the beginning of my very first story and I am really nervous about it. The main characer is actually currently 15 years old and this is just a flashback and I would appreciate it if you guys read, vote and comment. Also, I am not really sure about the title either so it might just change. We will wait and see! The more love I get, the more I can write and update Insh Allah(SWT). Salaam!

-Sabiha- (8 years old)- summer- Flachback

I woke up with a heavy weight crushing and suffocating me into the hard wood ground. Panick ran through me and I tried to move the weight on top of me but it wouldn’t budge. So I choked out a feeble scream that sounded more like a croak to me. But someone must have heard because soon the weight was lifting off of me and I could feel the air successfully entering my lungs again. I jumped up from my sleeping bag on the ground in my room and saw someone rolling with laughter. As my vision cleared I realized that it was my 10 year old cousin, Hamza while his 2 years younger sister, Hania snored away.

Was this a prank on me? I soon realized what just happened. Hania who was the same age as me had accidentally fell off my bed and landed on me and I had almost died. I swear my cousins are findind new “accidental” ways to get rid of me. And in my own house. I mean I was sleeping on he stupid ground in a sleeping bag when my “delicate”cousin slept on my bed. She was just a spoilt brat but wouldn’t admit it and her brother who was 2 years older than me just enoyed watching me get tormented by his mom and sister. I sighed in my head, family is family and no matter what I do love them. They visit us for 2 weeks before summer ends, leaving a week for school shopping.

I glared at Hamza and made my way to the washroom. I stare at myself disappointed that my hair was messy again. Even after mom had untangled it and fixed it. My reflection had a scowl on her face and was bleary eyed. I had huge light blue eyes with speckles of green and hazel in them threatening to show as I tilted my head. My skin was almost pale but because of my great love for soccer and the outdoors you could see the beginnings of freckles around my nose. I had a chubby heart-shaped face and no I was not a fat kid. It was just my cheeks that had to stick out and entertain the aunties and older siblings and cousins for a lengthy amount of time. I was pretty tall for a 8 year old, only being 7 now. My birthday came in the last day of December in the last hour. I hated being up so late for my birthday. We never really celebrated with the whole school or anything just a little get together with cousins and family and some close friends.

I was hamza’s height and it bothered him a lot because of the 2 years age difference but it made my day all the time. It’s not like I hated him or anything. I would just leap at any chance I could find to annoy him which I know he would do the same for  me. (okay yeah, so I maybe I dislike him but ‘hate’ is a very strong word). And in the end of the day we always make it up (well not really, we kind of forced to apologize to each other after we fight and diss each other).

Still in the bad mood from the stupid ncident I vigorously brush my teeth, wash my face and am about to head out when Hmaza begins pounding on the door. I groan to myself, that was the sucky thing of having cousins over, since our guest room was still in the making we had to share a room with them. My dad’s sister was here every summer and winter with her 2 sons and 1 daughters. They lived in calfornia and we lived in Florida. A lot of my other cousins lived in New York but didn’t really come to visit.

My dad is Pakistani and my mom is American and a muslim convert so that makes me half-Pakistani and Half- American. But me and my older twin brothers look exactly like my mom. But my only and oldest sister, Janessa (my grandma named her and didn’t want it to be Islamic and my dad couldn’t change it) looks like my dad. She has the pretty light brown eyes with specks of hazel and the light tanned skin. She has my dad’s looks and my mom’s personality. For me and my brothers it’s the opposite.

“OPEN THE DOOR! ARE YOU DEAF?!”Hamza literally barks from outside and I quickly open the door and run to get changed.

“Are you deaf or something? There are other people you know.” He glares at me and I smirk.

“Got you back for this morning,” I chirped happily.

“You better watch your back. I’ll get you back.” He retorted and went to the washroom.

I didn’t bother to change my soccer pj’s and noticed that Hania was still sleeping. Wow all this commotion and she still didn’t wake up. Unlike me and Hamza she could sleep in a storm. I sneaked over to her and sprayed her with water and quickly hid under the bed just as Hamza was coming out of the washroom. She woke up yawning until the water reached her and she started yelling at Hamza for throwing water at her. He stood there shocked and too frozen to move. It was hilarious how scared he was of his 8 year old sister. He muttered an apology and Hania went to the bathroom grumbling under her breath about how annoying brothers are.

I burst out laghing from under the bed and he looked at me with sudden anger and then smirked.

“I am so getting you back and it’s gonna be good.” He said with a smug look and we both went down to the heavenly smell of pancakes. I think soccer was the thing that forces us to comply with each other. My room is full of posters with the best soccer players.