The Not-So Perfect Muslim Twins [COMPLETED]

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Decisions, decisions, decisions.

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Yadirah

I watched Saifullah pass by me without noticing my presence. He wasn't focused on his surroundings at the moment. His eyes were distant, and terrifyingly empty. I did not know whether to think he was thinking of something or nothing. I didn't call out to him because I knew being there was only going to burden him more. He was wearing casual clothing. A white shirt, black jeans and a thin spring coat. He kept walking ahead with his hands in his pocket, and his gaze on the ground. I couldn't tell what was going through his mind.

If this is it... then the fight Nouman set up should be taking place somewhere around here. I was already a five minute walk away from the convenience store that Suwaydah made me go to to get her some ice-cream. It was already pretty late at night around 10pm. If Binyamin didn't have a headache, he would have followed along. I slipped out on my own without my parents knowing. An hour ago, Shahirah called to tell me she saw Saifullah around the convenience store, telling me he didn't look like his usual self. My legs moved against reason, and I ended up following him. I kept my distance, trying to conceal my identity. It was one thing knowing that I would go home to get scolded by my parents, and it was another having my husband think I doubted his present self. Along the way, two other men joined Saifullah without a word. Just a nod, and that was enough communication to get them going the same way. One of them had their hood pulled over his eyes, showing an almost permanent smile, and the other had this stoic look on their face. When they did start talking, they were too far ahead for me to understand. I frowned, but like the unreasonable girl I am, I continued following them.

A while later, guys started gathering around both of them, and Nouman stood facing Saifullah.

I watched everything unfold quickly. Almost too quick. I didn't have the time to recollect myself when I saw Nouman finally drop to the ground.

Was he dead? I stared at Saifullah who stared down at Nouman.

That was the end.

Or so I thought.

Saifullah's head was hit from behind in an instant. The baseball bat that hit him fell to the ground, and he wobbled. My heart sank at that moment. But fear froze me. And I couldn't move one bit. The hooded guy next to Saifullah caught him before he could fall. But Saifullah stood up again. After the two guys that came with Saifullah finished everything off, they called for Saifullah and all walked off. There was blood trickling down the side of his neck. And before I knew it, I was walking up to Saifullah. He didn't even notice me approaching until I stood directly in front of him, staring at him, confused of my own wandering feelings.

"Are you done?" I asked him. My voice shook vehemently. My shoulders were slumped, and I suddenly felt too weak or rather... too scared to even speak. I shuddered at the sight of his blood. And it wasn't simply because of the cold weather... But he simply stood there, now expressionless.

"Yes..." He replied meekly.

That day I forced him to come over to my place. When my parents asked frantically what had happened, I told them he was about to be robbed. It was a lie, but it would have to do. After my dad treated and bandaged his wound, Saifullah followed me to my room. After closing the door behind me, he stood there staring down at the carpeted floor.

"Sit." I ordered, rubbing my arms. I still had goosebumps all over my body, and I felt nervous - so nervous that I could feel my body become tense and sensitive to Saifullah's every movement. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, so I stared out my window instead. A moment later, Saifullah's arms were wrapped around me. He apologized into my ears. While the embrace was warm, Saifullah was shivering a lot more than I was. It took me seconds to realize he already caught a cold. "Sit." I said, once again - this time softer than the first time. He let go of me and sat down on the ground instead of the bed. I sat down next to him. "You have a fever... Maybe you could explain stuff to me later." I said. Saifullah shook his head.

"Now." He replied simply, like a child who could only use one word answers. I nodded, and he went on for what seemed like hours, until he finally dozed off. Nothing of what he said was extremely shocking, but at the same time it was overwhelming.

After his mother passed away, he started to distance himself from everyone. He believed he was the cause for her death. The plane his mother was in with her brother had crashed when Saifullah was about nine years old. She was coming home earlier than expected because Saifullah's health took a turn for the worse. After her death, he resented himself enough to block out any source of fun. Somehow, he developed a warped personality nearing the end of elementary school. By middle school, he was the school's biggest problem child. And by high school, he was unbeatable. It was only until he beat up a teacher in 10th grade that he truly started to reflect on the meaning of his life. But nothing was solved until the summer after 11th grade where he decided to stop being miserable and living a life of disappointment. Ultimately, it was his dad that pulled him out of his misery. But his past didn't leave him just yet - hence the fight with Nouman.

Before he fell asleep I got him to move onto the bed. He fell asleep almost straight away after drinking some medicine. When I left the room, it was one after midnight, and Binyamin's room was open. He was still up, studying. I yawned and walked into his room.

"Didn't you go to sleep?" He asked.

"Not yet." I replied.

"So what really happened?" He asked. When I didn't answer, he didn't pry either. "Are you disappointed?" He asked. I shook my head.

"No... it's just surprising. All of it. It's surprising how rational we human beings think our irrational behaviour is. It's surprising how our thought process can open up a completely different path in our life. And what's even more surprising is, how easily we can change our perception."

Binyamin stared at me, frowning. "What are you? A philosopher all of a sudden?" He asked.

"I should be, shouldn't I?" I asked, stroking my imaginary beard. Binyamin laughed.

"Yes. Life is full of surprises. What of it?" He asked.

"I'm grateful." I said, simply. "At the end of the day, I'm happy. I thought I wouldn't get any sleep tonight because I was scared. But I think I won't get any sleep tonight because I'm too happy." Binyamin stared at me, not saying anything for a moment.

"Your happy that Saifullah was robbed?" He asked. I gave a small smile.

"Sadly... I am." Binyamin continued staring at me, then sighed.

"Well, I don't know what's going on in that brain of yours, but I do know you're not a sadistic person to be happy about anyone's misery. So if you're happy, it's probably for the right reasons." He said. I smiled again.

I was happy about the Saifullah right now. I was happy about knowing more about him. Although his past was depressing, I was happy knowing that he didn't blame himself anymore for something Allah had willed at that time and at that place.

Everything that took place on this earth was without a doubt all a part of the decree of Allah. Such a small reminder was big in my eyes - the me that was almost swept away by the greed and discomfort of this world.

I was grateful.