Confessions of a Teenage Muslim Drama Queen

Confession 3 - Mysteries

Confession 3 - Mysteries.

Fatima

My eyes flutter open as the dreadful sound of my alarm clock haunts my ears. I slap it shut and dig deeper into the soft world of duvets. It's too cold to get up. How much I envy those people who can jump up this early in the morning!

          "Fatima! Wake up and pray Fajr." My mother shouts from downstairs. I can tell that she's already up, clinking and clanking, layering and cutting thin slices of bread to compose the perfect sandwich.

         Before you get me wrong, no, Fajr is not my problem. Astaghfirullah, that is my duty one of my only chances to interact with my own creator- who I owe everything (including my soft bed) to. My problem is time. I know that my alarm buzzes at 6:30 and now it's six-thirty-five and I'm having a mental battle. I press my eyes shut, longing for Saturday to immediately roll around.

           "Fatima, have you prayed Fajr yet?" My dad hollers as he sweeps past my bedroom door. I can hear Dua crying from the room next door.

           "Uh, no I'm getting up." I reply weakly. Combining all my will power into one strong motion I enter the battlefield and heave myself up. Trudging to the bathroom I quickly throw my nest of thick curly hair into a messy ponytail - multi-tasking, yet another skill of an average teenage girl. When I am making Wudhu I make sure to splash extra water on my face.

           When I enter my parents bedroom Ali is already there.
       
         "Beat you." He states. I scowl at him and continue unfolding my prayer rug. As he leaves he stops to whisper in my ear;

       "Ali 1, Fatima 0."

        When will boys ever grow up?

       I roll my eyes incredulously and then begin to pray.

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          "Honey please can you drop Dua to the daycare today. I'm working early." My mom hollers to my dad as she quickly packs Dua's lunchbox and places a freshly filled bottle of water next to it.

         "Yeah no problem. Have a nice day." Dad greets as my mom leaves.

      Me and Ali are munching  down our breakfast in the living room for a change as he flips through various channels until something interesting turns up. I'm half chewing a spoonful of tasteless coco pops when dad comes in.

        "Hey kids, I'm going to drop Dua to the day care. You'll probably be gone by the time I get back so have a good day ok. Have you got your lunches ready?"

           "Mm-hm." We reply in unison.

       Okay, let me get one thing straight. Nothing annoys me and Ali more than when we speak in unison. Which is why we exchange death glares immediately after.

           "Good good. Oh and Ali, did you hear Yusuf is in hospital." Dad states casually. I choke on my last spoonful of never ending cereal.

         "What?" Ali exclaims.

        "He had a fight apparently. I don't know the full story but he's much better than before, so that's the most important part.

      "Is Maya okay?" I ask.

      "Yeah she's fine. Anyway, remember to read the Ayyatul-Kursi before you leave. Allah hafiz."

        "Bye dad." We greet as he convinces Dua that they're going to the park.