The Nearest Heaven ✔️

Part 13 - Help

Part 13 – Help

The constant billowing of the curtains provided Fadiyah with something to keep her eyes focused on as her mind whirred with thoughts. Rasheed Afzal. Aaban's safety. Faraaz's psychotic sister. Faraaz's health, Faraaz's progress, his state of mind.

Lastly, her worthlessness was on her mind. How she wasn't a strong enough person. How fat she was. How she was useless. A nuisance and liability. She was just trouble to everyone. A knock at her bedroom door disturbed her thoughts.

"Fadiyah?" She frowned as she heard Jacob's concerned voice. She was back in her pathetic state, and while he was non-judgmental he still managed to somehow make her feel like she should not be hiding. He made her feel as if her depression was nothing to be afraid of, nor ashamed of. He wanted her to accept it and work on it, steadily, if not proudly.

He didn't want her to feel lesser, to feel insignificant or even inferior to anyone else. She knew he was right, but somehow she just couldn't convince herself to be the Fadiyah that he sees.

"Come in," she drawled out softly.

He pushed open the door and smiled brightly at her. "Good morning, dear," he greeted.

"Jacob," she sighed, pulling the duvet up and around her head to cover her hair. Fadiyah couldn't find the will in her to be bothered about putting on a scarf. Slowly, her will to live was dwindling. Even after the talk she had with Jacob two days prior.

He sat down the silver tray by her bedside table. "It's nothing fancy," he commented. "Just cut up strawberries, sprinkled with icing sugar and plain yoghurt."

"Thank you," she told him gratefully. Her stomach, at the moment, couldn't handle anything more, besides chocolate.

Jacob was calm and patient with her. He understood. Why wouldn't he? After all, he was living with Faraaz as well. "It's okay, dear," he told her in a fatherly tone.

She sniffled, thinking about her parents and how much she missed them. "Maybe you should shower after you eat," he suggested. "Then you can sit in your room and read your Qur'an," he told her.

Fadiyah blinked back the tears, then squeezed her eyes shut as she nodded. Her voice was too choked up, her throat felt as if a brick wall had been built there, making speech impossible. "Rest Fadiyah, no one wants you to fall ill. Take as much time as you need," he told her in a soothing tone before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

Alone, once again, Fadiyah pushed back the duvet and pulled herself up to rest against the headboard. She took a few deep breaths, trying to centre herself. She was trying to ward off the difficult thoughts, the dark ones that pulled her into a cycle of never-ending despair. Unable to attain the desired peace, she grabbed her cell phone roughly off the bedside table. Her fingers tapped the screen, until she selected the app that she wanted. In seconds, the melodious sound of the Qur'an being recited filled her bedroom.

Minutes later, Fadiyah found that her heartrate had slowed down, her breathing was easier and she felt more at peace than she was earlier. Gingerly, she reached out for the tray and pulled it onto her lap. Then, she dumped the strawberries into the bowl of plain yoghurt.

It took her at least half an hour to eat her yoghurt, but she was glad that she managed to finish it. When she placed the tray back on her bedside table, she rested against the headboard and closed her eyes, breathing heavily. Just the thought of going outside her room was causing her to have an anxiety attack. Her chest was tightening, it was become difficult for her to breathe, to focus on anything. Her head was spinning and she couldn't see clearly. Fadiyah was trying to breathe by taking short breaths.