Take off your Hijab (Rewriting)

He Actually Came Back✅

"No matter where I go, I'm always gonna want you back
No matter how long you're gone, I'm always gonna want you back"

Third person's POV.

"Leave me alone if you don't want to die, Jamie!" Amal threatens, her eyes still tightly shut, clutching her pillow like it's the only thing standing between her and a caffeine-fueled toddler apocalypse. She longs to drift back into the blissful embrace of sleep, where no one is shaking her awake.

"Mommmmy! She says I should leave her if I don't want to die, and I don't want to dieee!" a tiny voice wails, trembling with fright. Confusion jolts Amal awake like a bucket of ice water splashed across her face. Mommy? Is it one of her shawarma babies come to life?

"Mommy?" Amal mutters, sitting up abruptly, her hair a wild mess resembling a bird's nest after a windstorm. Whose kid is that? She knows she isn't a mother. Did those shawarma actually come to life? Wide-eyed, she thinks, Why does that actually make sense to me? Panic flickers in her chest. I've lost it. Fantastic. Maybe I'm stuck in a weird dream. She squeezes her eyes shut again, hoping that when she wakes up, everything will be back to normal.

"Amal, you can't threaten your own nephew! What is wrong with you?" A familiar voice scolds her, snapping Amal back to reality like a slap in the face with a wet towel.

Her eyes fly open, and she squints against the harsh morning light, instantly recognizing her sister standing there, hands on her hips like a superhero in a family drama. "Azad, you're here?" she states, disbelief etched across her face as if she's just spotted a unicorn in her bedroom.

"Yes, honey, it is I," Azad responds dramatically, striking a pose as if she's auditioning for a Broadway show. Amal rolls her eyes so hard she nearly sees the back of her own head, but she can't help but pull her sister into a tight hug, relief flooding through her like a warm blanket on a chilly day.

"When did you arrive?" Amal asks, bewildered, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. They'd just talked on the phone a day ago.

"Three days ago," Azad replies, a guilty smile flickering across her face like a neon sign in a dark alley. Amal's expression shifts to disbelief—how is that even possible? They were just chatting about London yesterday!.

"What? Three days? I thought you said you were back in England! You asked if I wanted to come visit, and I said I wanted to see Mom first!" Amal's confusion is palpable, her brows knitting together like a pair of angry caterpillars plotting a revolution.

"Well... I lied," Azad admits, twirling a lock of hair like a schoolgirl caught sneaking cookies. "I was actually staying at a guest house with Abtal here in America. But then he got an emergency phone call and had to go, so I came home."

"Was Mom aware?" Amal asks, her curiosity piqued, eyes narrowing suspiciously as if she's piecing together a family conspiracy.

"Of course! We just didn't want to stress her out. I mean, Abtal doesn't feel comfortable staying here; he thinks he's stressing my family out." Azad rolls her eyes, echoing Amal's earlier sentiment with exaggerated flair, making Amal snort with laughter.

"Oh, nonsense!" Amal interjects, waving her hand dismissively like she's swatting away an annoying fly. Her brother-in-law always tries too hard to impress everyone, as if they're all judges in a bizarre talent show. "It's like he thinks he's auditioning for America's Got Family Drama."

"That's what Mom said too, but he refused. So instead, we visited every day," Azad explains, her tone lightening as she leans in closer, a conspiratorial grin spreading across her face.