LOOK AT ME (Muslim Story)

LOOK AT ME (26)

My dad wasn't home when I came back that night, my clothes torn apart, my body bleeding out, my hair all over the place. I left a trail of blood to my house when I was walking, the cuts so deep, I was bleeding the whole way there.

I had a stab wound on my thigh, making my whole body limp home that night. My eyes wouldn't blink for a moment that I had to bring my fingers up to do them manually.

My sweatpants had holes in them. After tonight, I'll have nightmares of tonight's events that I probably won't even be able to sleep yet go to school.

But I knew that if I stayed home the next day, my dad would find out about everything and I would hate to make him feel worried.

My body was weak, I was weak. I can barely feel my left thigh, where most of my cuts and stab wounds were. I had no money, they took it all. They made me walk in the snow with a bra and sweatpants.

I came to school wearing a black sweater and new sweatpants. I had my sleeves pulled down, covering my cuts. My face was still messy, my hair wasn't combed. My body was lagging.

I didn't look at anyone. I was disgusted with myself. I was disgusted with how things turned out. Allah never helped me. Why didn't he help me?

He was supposed to be there for me. He wasn't. But he also can't be fake. I don't understand.

My mouth was dry, so dry. My hands were shaking everywhere I go. My life was ending right before my eyes and I didn't even know it.

People were watching me. Cameras were recording me and how I pumped towards my locker, the place where everything began.

There was still dry blood on the ground, Simeon my locker. Some took pictures of the crime scene in front of my locker, people questioning why there was even dry blood there in the first place.

I saw Ahmed there, his eyes staring at the dry blood, touching it and smelling it. He was examining it. His eyes looked worried, scrunched up together. But when he saw me with the rest of them, he gasped at my appearance.

"What happened to her?"

"Is she okay?"

"She got beat up."

"Avery must've done this."

I heard many different stories of what might've happened to me but none of what I heard was correct. I limped to my locker, licking my bruised lip and caressing my cuts that stung under my sweater.

I can feel the fabric is wet, meaning I'm bleeding again and I need tissues paper.

Good thing I had some inside.

"Emerald." I heard Ahmed sexy voice from beside me. Men scare me. Ever since yesterday, males are dangerous, "What happened to you?"

You made a deal.

"Emerald?" He tapped my shoulder to get my attention. I only kept my body facing the inside of my locker and nowhere else.

"I'm talking to you!" He spins me around completely, making me face him. I looked at my shoes, "Look at me dammit!" He screamed.

I shrugged, "You first."

"It was Brandon wasn't it?"

I stayed silent.

"Emerald!"

I was told to ignore him or Ahmed would also get jumped. From the amount of pain I'm in right now, I would never want something like this to happen to Ahmed. I don't want him to go through that. He's been through so much already.