Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 22: Ummi

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

I relaxed a little too much after exams and didn't upload as much so here is a little gift! Keep me in your prayers please, life is a little rough right now :)

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Dawud's P.O.V

I woke at eight in the morning, feeling exhausted. I had only got four hours of sleep! Laith and I spent the whole night talking, catching up, going to the masjid to pray Fajr and reflecting on our lives alongside one another. It was beautiful and time seemed to have been going by so fast. I only felt the results of such a rush now, lying lazily on my side of the bed.

The image of Jannah turning in bed to face me flashed in my mind. Her lose curls would be pulled up in a bun and her almond-shaped eyes would slowly peel open. The specks of brown that resembled coffee would be enough to make my heart cave in on itself. She'd be breathing deeply with her lips shut and eyes as light as feathers. Sometimes, her dreams would cause her to make facial expressions. She'd smile, frown or pull her eyebrows together in confusion. I missed her.

With a sigh, I rose to my feet and washed up. Today was the day I finally finished the task Jannah had given me. After dressing up in warm clothes, I made myself a hot cup of tea and headed out of the apartment to my car. I drank the scolding liquid with caution as I sat in my vehicle, waiting for it to heat up. After finishing my tea, I drove straight to my mother's house. Jannah's letter rested on my dashboard from the last time I had read it. I didn't need to reach for it again. Her request was crystal clear.

I stepped on the patio and knocked on the door, sticking my hands in my jacket pockets stiffly. I no longer felt a connection to this place. Truth be told, I hadn't been here in months. The flaky blue coating of paint that decorated the infrastructure of my mother's home felt foreign to me. After my parents separated from one another, I no longer had the strength to even drive down this street. But that was a huge mistake. In distancing myself, I ruined my beautiful relationship with my mother. I was completely in the wrong and hearing my mother's footsteps approach from behind the door made it hard to even stand up straight. I was so close to caving in on myself.

The door opened and my eyes fell to the floor. I couldn't look her in the eye. 'Dawud, my son.' She said softly. I stepped in the house and greeted her with Salam, keeping my gaze glued to the wooden floorboards. Slipping off my boots and following her into the living room, I couldn't ignore the simple scent I grew up around; musk, tea, and my mother's home cooked food. Everything was placed just as before, which took me by surprise. I don't know why I imagined my house completely empty and lifeless without my father. from the looks of things, you couldn't even tell he was gone. His favorite newspaper was still sitting by on the computer desk.

She sat down on the couch and gestured for me to sit on the seat diagonal from her. I sat down and changed my posture once our knees touched. My mother took a deep breath. 'How have you been, Habibi? You're growing a beard now.' She whispered. Her voice contained everything that comforted me in this world. 'You always tried to grow it but I guess you were too young. You look like a man now.' She continued, forcing conversation. I still didn't look up at her and it was killing me. How could I match eyes with her after abandoning her? I was ashamed beyond explanation. I didn't know what to say.

'I was expecting you today, so I made some tea. Did you want some?' She asked. Her voice was delicate and careful. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't find my voice. 'Dawud, the least you could do is look at me.' She said in Arabic. I closed my eyes, mustering up the courage to do so. All that did in return was cause tears to form and fall down my cheeks.

'Ummi (My mother)-' I coughed out. 'I'm ashamed.' I admitted in Arabic, tossing my face between my hands. I began to cry, falling to my knees and wrapping my arms around her legs. 'Forgive me.' I repeated more times than the fingers on my hands. My mother rubbed my back and head, urging me to stop crying. I took a deep breath and moved back, sitting on the ground. 'I can't help but feel like this is all my fault. I left the house and moved into my apartment, not thinking about the effect that could have on you, or him.' I said, anger slipping off my tongue. 'And when I think of you... when I remember your face it breaks me apart because I feel like I was responsible for you and Baba separating.' I continued. 'You said it was because the two of you fell out of love with each other a long time ago and that when I moved out, you two had nothing in common and so you had to separate. That feeling of guilt burns me from the inside.' I said in one breath. I made sure to inhale and exhale properly when I was done, remembering that I left my inhaler in the car.

My mother was silent. I gathered all the strength within me to look up and felt relief wash over me as our eyes met. Her freckled and chubby cheeks were pulled upwards as she smiled down at me. Her dewy brown eyes that I knew so well fought back tears as she caressed my temple. 'Dawud, how could you have known that this would have happened? I didn't know, and your father didn't know. Everything is predestined. Allah has written down everything that has occurred and everything that will occur. The separation between your father and I was a decision we made ourselves. And I'm so sorry that it's had such a huge toll on you.' She told me. 'Jannah opened up to me about this not too long ago. She said that you stopped mentioning your father and I and that you didn't like talking about us either. You became very defensive and unnecessarily protective. With who she spoke with... who she worked with. The MSA situation and the Laith issue, to be exact. She told me that you'd get awkward around her parents when you two would visit them. It got so bad that she didn't want to go over to her parents' house with you anymore. My heart broke upon hearing this, Habibi.'

I scratched my head and sighed. That's what Jannah had explained in the letter. The way I felt towards my parents began to have a direct effect on our relationship in ways I hadn't realized until Jannah went away and left me with her honest words.

'I want to ask you to forgive me. Your father and I could've done things better. The drama and the hysterics were a mistake on my part. I'm so sorry.' My mother whispered in the quiet of her living room. I shook my head and stood up, pulling her up with me. We hugged one another tightly as if it would be the last time we'd see one another.

'You're forgiven, and will always be forgiven. May Allah grant you Jannah and always keep you smiling.' I said to her in Arabic. She laughed and rubbed my arms.

'My beloved son.' My mother sighed.

I looked around the room and wiped the streaks of tears from my eyes. 'Is Jannah here?' I asked her nervously.

My mother threw her head back as she laughed joyously. 'If you're going to see her, it won't come so easy.' She teased me. I sent her a confused glance as I watched her pull a brochure from the little table carrying a lamp. She returned back and placed it in my hands.

I read it again and again, looking at her for confirmation. Her sparkling eyes told me that what I was seeing was completely true.

Jannah was waiting for me on the other side of the country. And so I dropped everything and took the fastest flight there.