I will Never.

Meet Haqeedah.

"They will rip out your culture, your religion and what we consider to have shaped the modern society. They will say "They're dead anyways." and kill you too. They will say it's all for self-defence when they terrorize the land you call home whether it be living or a stone brick house containing memories your heart holds. Terrorism is not what's on the head it's what's inside within the guns and barrel bombs, the 38 billion dollars and missiles shot from miles of gold and wealth." -Haqeedah

"I'm going to need help pronouncing this name, Ha-kee-da?"

"Yes Ma'am." I reply accepting the pronunciation.

"Today we will be learning about the-" She looks off focusing her eyes on the sheet.

"history of the first world war. Miss Loch has given me booklets for you to complete. I'm Miss Kane for any of those wondering." She continues anxiously. I observe. I lean back mumbling a 'Thank you' as she hands me a 25-paged booklet on the first world war. I grab my pen and get straight into it overlooking the person sitting next to me. Elina and Lena aren't in my history class so I get the opportunity to sit alone and make friends!! As they say. Every lesson the person next to me changes and the only words exchanged are "Sorry" or a simple quiet-voiced "Hey" Today the one sitting next to me is Rami. One of the only kids I know who sits alone with headphones plugged in and beautiful handwriting. He's in all my classes, poor kid seems like the one who brings cookies to the table when you invite him to your table at lunch. Why haven't I invited him to my table? It's almost impossible when you're 5th wheeling a bunch of girls who know each other like twins. Nonetheless I've been less present, I can't handle and I've changed my priorities. Joining clubs are cool but it's awkward not much hype for clubs and creative extra-curriculars.

"Haqeedah are you coming to the poets meet?" I turn to Rami, puzzled. Crap this kids voice is quiet and low-key.

"Uh yeah sure. The one next week? With all the Paper Poets and Spoken Word Poets?" I answer unsure.

"Yeah that." He replies. Conversation died. Rest in Peace. Period 3 at 11:33 AM. I mean what more can I say. Yeah yeah the meet is out of town so only about 3-5 students go. The funny thing is... well not really funny but I joined the whole poetry scene because I know the local Muslim Youth Group promotes poetry and a few of the organizers work with local Poets Group.

-- -- --

I get home from school ready to rip off my Hijab and skirt. 8 hours in a hijab is nice but my hair has to breathe inside. I don't shower with my hijab on and yes I carry around a translated Quran in my bag as I've had a few run-ins with the typical "Towel headed motherf*****." They usually ran with grabbing arms but the first time I dropped my school bag and ran the other way. Ignorant people and ignorance is always going to be around its just that the next time I will have words to toss then run, which is sad because they believe what's on tv. They will be biased and brainwash you. They will make false claims and try to rip you heart and mind out of your body, I've been told to say I will never. Let me show you a flashback.

"Haqeedah why the hell do you have a scarf on. It's bloody 30 degrees out. You want to take it off? Here I can help." Mrs Ronan motions her hands towards my head. I tremble and begin to lash out in tears. I step back clinging onto my hijab.

They say I exaggerated horribly which landed me in the silly corner with tear stained cheeks and naively pitied stares this was for what they didn't realise. 6 years go by and I'm sent on a walk with the Guidance Counselor, I can't feel more alone and further to something I cant describe or put a word on. I mention the fact I'm fine with an oversensitive soul and a case of the hay fever when I arrive home clinging onto my rant filled panda bear. I don't blame anyone honestly, after the attacks and future looking like dystopia kids seem to be born with anxiety. I don't fear the other I just feared the lack of acceptance the world around me held, being left behind, in a corner and people only spoke if they wanted you to say what they want. Being naive brought me into sticky and harsh situations. I don't expect people to understand, I just want people to listen and hear me out. So far I lack the characteristic of talking loudly and avoid most family gatherings which I don't regret. There's nothing like sitting at home with my pen, diary, phone and Quran or Nasheeds playing in the background as I sit on my phone. Nasheed being a work of vocal music or an Islamic song.

I'm Haqeedah. I'm a 14 year old Female living in the cold white heart of Burradille, Australia. I'm in Year 9 or 9th Grade. I'm an Australian-born muslim with a sugarcoated soul. And by sugar coated I mean everything I know was or has been sugar coated. I'm not complaining, it just means I've had to learn and find out myself. I'm of Indonesian descent and I like to spend my spare time on the internet. I like to see what's happening and going around.

______________ ________ ________

Authors note. Any questions please leave them below. I hope you enjoyed the first part. Also lol in case anyone was wondering Haqeedah is a made up character.