Author's note: Read at your own risk. For those of you who're going to bombard my inbox with messages like "They're Muslims and you are portraying an incorrect image of Islam" Here's the thing; They are muslims but they're also human beings who make mistakes just like everyone else. Don't judge others (even if they're fictional) simply because they sin differently than you.
I'm a writer not a nun. I write about whatsoever piece of grabage I want to write about.
Happy Reading!
-Eraj Ejaz-
Ruins and Rubble
“Don’t say I’m better off dead because heaven’s full and hell won’t have me.” –Oliver Sykes
The world outside was falling and breaking down into a pile of gravel and dust. Systems collapsed and so did my soul as the feeling of helplessness penetrated deep into my bubble. This was the worst feeling of all; being stranded. Feeling alone and lost, like no one could hear your earsplitting screams and pleas. I felt like all my prayers clashed against the clouds and returned back unheard and unanswered.
“Withering words fell down like dead autumn leaves. Love decayed with brutal imprecision. Words slipped and scattered with burden. Envy, wrath and greed remained behind; the ruins of great relationship.”
My back crushed against the metallic grills; layered with years of rust and grime. His eyes were drunk with lust and his lips were carved into a smirk. He crawled on top of me as I writhed beneath his toned frame. He came closer and closer, until the ironed edges sliced through my spine and I had no escape from his stronghold. His ragged breaths condensed into tiny droplets of moisture that beaded on my skin. Our gazes interlocked and my heartbeat ricocheted. A giggle escaped from my lips as the pad of my thumbs brushed against a rough scar on his jaw line.
This was wrong. What we were doing was wrong but falling in love was so exhilarating.
An untamed glow sparked beneath our sizzling touch. His fingertips tickled my heated skin slowly and torturously. While his free palm traced down the length of my neck and worked against the contours of my sharp collarbones.
He looked at me one last time, with want and desperation pooling in his heavy brown irises before sealing his lips with my own. His slightly chapped lips grazed against my soft ones in tantalizing friction. Both of his palms were hooked in the curve between my neck and shoulder and his slender fingers dug deeper into the base of scalp.
We molded ourselves into an inseparable embrace. Our newly blossomed love overshadowed all reasoning, thoughts and logic. Our untiring souls were threaded together by compassion and affection that only grew with time and difficulties.
With a thick whiff of his spiced cologne, I nuzzled into him and buried my face in his leathered jacket. All the while, his fingers twiddled with the loose end of my braid. After gently tucking in a few messy strands behind my earlobes, he spoke softly,” What’s more difficult; to love a broken heart or to love with a broken heart?”
The moonlit sky was light and partially cloudy as the winds gushed and swirled around us. The freshly shaved grass pricked through my cottoned shirt. The airs smelt like gravel and chalk.
My eyebrows pinched together as my swollen lips narrowed down in a thin line as I concentrated to formulate an answer.
“To let a heart remain broken,” My voice finally came out.
The heavy morning air flushed into my system and my eyelids fluttered and thin streaks of light blurred my vision. The sun and the moon took their turns; Night turned into day and day turned into night. The cold crept up my bare soles and I shivered. The winds had chilled outside. A throbbing headache pierced through my brain and I felt glued to my chair. I whimpered in surrender.
YOU ARE READING
Redemption
Novela Juvenil"On Tuesdays I hate the world, I want to burn things down. I want to wipe off every single trace of human existence. Is it weird? Does it ever happen to you? Don't you ever want to track down every single person who has underestimated you and spit o...
