LOOK AT ME (Muslim Story)

LOOK AT ME (24)

This chapter is saddening but it's also what many converts have gone through :(
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I stated at the holy book, eyeing it dangerously as I lit up some candles around my dark bedroom. It was some weird voodoo shit you can say. I'm literally in my bedroom, on my desk, the windows open, the lights off and candles lit with the Koran in the middle.

I was determined to speak to god today and that's a fact. He helped me, I know he did. Even though others may not believe it, I do.

I sat down on the black leather chair across from the Koran, folding my arms and slumping my shoulders tiredly. Today I was going to get answers.

Ahmed didn't want me reading the Koran because he was afraid of what I would read about or the punishments to those who aren't Muslim. I figured I should respect him on how he feels and just ask God to tell me himself.

"I know you helped me last night." I said out loud, knowing damn well my dad wasn't home. It was the only reason why I was doing this, "You were there for me when I called out to you. I know you were."

I was talking to pretty much nothing, my eyes on the Koran. Do some crazy shit. Open up random pages I don't know...

"Everyone thinks I'm crazy but I know you don't." I intertwined my fingers together staring at my ceiling pleadingly, "Just show me something please. Show me you exist. Show me I'm not crazy and that everyone else is. Show me that when I called out to you, you helped me."

Nothing.

"Please." I begged to nothing, "I know you gave Brandon a seizure. I know you knocked out all those guys. I know you did it. There's no way it was a coincidence."

Silence.

"Allah guides those who want to be guided." I repeated Fatima's words from this morning, "I want to be guided. Help me be guided!"

Nothing.

I sighed, "Show me sign, Dammit!"

Nothing.

I stared at the open window, "You know I've been through a lot in my life. Since you're god, you should know how much bullshit I've been through in the past."

I kept talking to the air, to the dark room but for some reason I just felt like I was talking to someone. It felt like someone was in the room with me, actually listening to me. And even though there really wasn't anyone there, I felt it.

God was listening.

"I noticed that Avery started to leave me alone for a bit. And that started when I began to slowly practice Islam with Fatima." I said my story, things he obviously already knows, "I grew up as a Christian. I believed in Jesus Christ and him being our lord and son of god but it just doesn't feel right anymore. You showed me something last night."

My eyes felt ready, and I only tugged at my hoody tighter, "I know you're listening to me, I just know it. Please, help me understand your religion. Help me learn about you. Help me..."

It was quiet for a long time and I felt like crying. I was slowly believing that I was insane but I wasn't. I felt the presence in the room, like I'm feeling that I'm not alone and that I'm not talking to myself.

Or I'm just crazy.

"Show me a sign." I begged one last time, "Please."

It was that last chance I was giving god. I don't even know if I'm allowed to give god chances. But one thing I knew for sure was that if I didn't show me a sign I was going to open the book and take the risk of reading what's inside knowing damn well that the contents can change my life forever.