my stepsister

nineteen

It was a bright morning, the intelligence of the sun brights and shines in excellence. Plants and flowers moves as the breeze encircles simultaneously. Hue of lights shades under trees, i walked to the garden at the back of our house, from the garden there I could see the park where children, family goes on picnic.

I sat on the closest bench to my right under a mango tree as I stared at the children swinging on the swings, sliding on the slides, some of them skipping, some running and even if those eating with their families. I sat there looking enthusiastic about my scene, how much I like my family to be like this, it is hard to mention the last time I sat and ate food with my family- even if I did; always not completed, when I was much younger around fourteen aged, i didn't care for all I wanted was money, being in a school for wealthy people all you need is money to feel among. So then I was happy that we had money for I was actually one of the richest students in the school. But while growing up, as my mind and thinking started to change I felt like there's no place, there's nothing like home, like family. As I stared at the family on picnic I felt like having that family they all have now.

I am a person who grew up with everything, I for the life of me never was denied what I desired, but little did I realise that God ALLAH is the infinite bounty , i have all I wanted but one thing that my creator didn't give me is a good family. If I tell you my family is a mess it would be an understatement. My father who's always busy with his jobs and always in a row with my mother. my siblings and I weren't given the parental care any other child gets, but my little brother did get his, she took him away from us. When he was at the age of high school, she took him to boarding school far away from us.

My eyes filled with water now, blinking them away continuously as the water forces itself out of my eyes as it cascaded slowly drops drop by drop down my chicks. Something didn't want me to clean the tears, and deep down I was happy, which I didn't know why.

I shot my eyes closed as the memory of those children in the park appearing in my mind, sometimes I feel I wanted to be them, to be like them, always smiling, happy with their life, not someone like me driving different series of cars, taking private jets to go round the world, buy latest phones, wear designer clothings, shoes, bags all designers, eat anything of your wish, spend any amount of money on anything you want anytime. But this my life, surrounded by thousand maids, in a mansions is all boring. For me I rather have that life with happiness, for this life am having is no fun god-no-happiness.

At least what you could try see here is that; these very people, family here know the definition of happiness, they have spent their lives in this duniya(world) happily.

Every human things are subject to decay, when fate Simmons, monarchy must obey.

I smile as I remember death. My brother and I have spent our lives without our mother, our mother who had made us who we are today. Children with no mother, she has spoilt us to an extent. But my brother is the worst, he has suffered much more than anyone ,for I have sympathised him every second, every minute and every hour of my life with him. I have stood by him for as long as I could remember. But at least for my other little brother, he's young of course, provided that, he spends almost all his times with my mother flying round the world. He's ignorant on what's happening in our home.

All the thoughts spinning in my little brain flew as i heard loud noises in the house. I quickly wipped my tears as I hurried to the house using the back door, i kept moving until I came to the white palace-one of the biggest  sitting rooms in the house downstairs, i heard the noise growing louder. I peeped through the door as I saw my nineteenth aged brother zayed crying in my fathers arms, my mother in the car as her luggages are placed in the boot of the car. Then I knew she was leaving, what I heard from my sixteenth brother Ahmad is true.

She has left us, once again. Our own mother

At the sight of my brother zayed, i sympathised him. She has shown so much hatred towards him and I, but for Ahmad, he's not even here, he's in boarding school. He doesn't know what our mother is like, he is not all aware of the happenings in our family. She took him away from us, away from our lives. Our lives and his' is a complete different life.

Sometimes I wonder, is this how all Muslims people live their lives, why are we So different, why is our mother so cruel?, why is it that her money and reputation all mattered to her?, what of us?, doesn't she even at least for a second cares about our well being? , , oh allah what type of mother did you give us?,. I am twenty two and I know how to take care of myself, but what of my brother, doesn't she care about him ? , what does money do to people that would get all this attitude?, isn't money just in duniya?, deeds would be in ahkirah? Why such behaviours, ? Was it a mistake giving birth to us?, did she not wanted children of her own,? Or was she then, blinded by money and status?, god bless our mother...

....just remember one thing, I would always be with you, in failure or in success, i will always be your father "

Hearing this words from my father made another new tears form in my eyes, this time burning with range and anger. I wanted to go and hug them too, but something stopped me, i couldn't go, my life is shattered, i can't go in there. I whipped away my tears and used the small staircase to my room. I packed all my clothes and put them in my bag. I wrote a down a letter for both my dad and zayed, i placed down the letters on my bed and quickly used the secret way out and quickly.......i am in Arizona, America.

        I stoop to conquer.