THE LOVE CONTRACT (ON HOLD!)

The love contract- Signed, Anonymous.

I woke up to the sudden blaring of my alarm clock and sunlight shining through the curtains hitting my morning face, as I buried my head under my pillow.

I groaned at the sight of my alarm clock that turned 1:00. I couldn't believe I had slept for 14 hours straight and missed most of uni! Well there was no point in going now, I thought. So much for working my butt off to pay the damn fees!

Last night after making my way home, I figured I must've conked out pretty quick on my bed because I was still wearing yesterday's clothes, thank God I had the decency to take my shoes off which were scattered across the warm beige carpet of my bedroom floor.

My hijab had fallen off my head and the duvet half flopped onto the landing. I winced at the unexpected headache and sat up taking in the tranquility and unusually quiet atmosphere. I hadn't done anything stupid, had I?

Hm, how weird. Normally I'd get woken up by Amelia jumping on top of me but for some odd reason something told me she wasn't home.

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the mirror which stood next to my dresser, staring back at the girl who had a jungle of curly hair, worn out eyes, dark bags and tired skin. Don't get me wrong I wasn't complaining but it was just mere reflection on how I used to look like and how much I had changed.

Now was probably the best time to take a refreshing shower, so I staggered towards the bathroom like a goat on crack.

Don't ask.

After taking a fairly long shower and losing the sleep I had, I offered my afternoon salah, Zuhr, punctually.

Prayer was my life line, a medicine-physically for the heart and spiritually, for the soul. Bowing down to my Lord was the greatest love story of all time that only my true fellow Muslim brothers and sisters knew of.

Whether a family matter or just simply some guidance to the right path, prostration was my shield and Allah was my protector, my availer and best of aid.

It was because of prayer I didn't mess my life up at the sore age of 15. Yes I had a past, but that's another story.

My phone continuously vibrated on top of the bed side drawer and I picked it up.

2 missed calls and 4 messages.

This was pretty unusual, being busy 24/7 and having no social life, I didn't realize people would actually be bothered to check up on me.

One missed call was probably my parents who were worried that I was working myself out too much, yet nagged me about using as much time to study and the other from a uni friend who was probably wondering where the heck I was on the last working day.

Oh well, they could wait.

I never received messages often but as this was a Friday, (thank God) I mentally did a happy dance and checked my phone.

Dad: Pick your phone up Ali.

First of all, I was surprised at the fact that my Dad was getting quite good at texting, before it was so scary, even auto correct couldn't do it's job.

***

Amelia: Salam bed head, I left you sleeping because you looked so peaceful-jk I took a pic instead, you look like a delusional sleeping beauty lol call me later xo

Hmph. Typical Amy, she always found one way or another to get as many embarrassing pictures of me as she could. I bet she's plotting to use them against me one day, maybe if I ever got married, dammit- it'll probably drive my future husband away.