Converting to Islam

Chapter 12

A/N: Hey guys! Once again I want to thank all you awesome peeps (#swag) who have commented. I love you.

ALSO remember my children (yes I am now your father) to press that little vote button right there in the corner. Yes right there. Don't be shy. >:]

OKAY NOW HERE I PRESENT CHAPTER 12 *trumpets play*

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As soon as I step inside he doesn’t even bother with arguing. Immediately he pushes me towards the wall, nailing me down - not a single sign of mercy is on his face. 

"Apologize now before I kill you," he threatens through gritted teeth. All my courage disappears as I look at the ferocity in his eyes.

"After you apologize for breaking my family’s vase," I manage to mumble out.

"You deserved it."

"Why exactly?" I whisper with trembling lips.

"I said so before - you need to learn to respect me, but it seems like you haven’t." It’s not like he respects me! How can he expect me to respect him?

He brings his lips to my ear and asks, "What do they do to an animal that doesn’t listen?"

I stare at him with wide eyes, unable to answer.

"Beat it," he whispers.

Instantly I react: with all the force I can muster, I punch him hard in the gut - his hands fly to cover the place when I hit, grunting in pain. But just as I try to slip away, he grabs hold of me. I shriek and cry as I struggle to pull free, but it’s useless.

His merciless hands that are balled into fists punch me hard in abdomen, knocking the air out of me. I crunch down to my knees in pain, gasping. He takes another swing, and this time his fist goes flying into my face. Then my shoulder, and then my gut again. Soon I am lying on the floor helplessly, on the blood stained floor. He starts kicking me, sending shots of pain onto my back continuously. I can’t breathe. It doesn’t take long before I fall unconscious.

Beautiful music playing. Singing - a peaceful relaxing sound. I’m sitting in a masjid listening to the sound. Across my body are bruises and scars. Gradually, as I listen to the sound, they start to heal, and eventually disappear.

I wake up.

My eyes widen as I encounter the real world. Tears threaten to fall as I realize that it was all just a dream: there is no warm carpet of the masjid under my body, but the cold, bloodstained ground of the living room. Every inch of my body hurts as I attempt to get up. With much effort I manage to get on my feet, though every muscle in my body stings with pain. Images of my dream remain in my head. It was so peculiar - it felt so real, so warm... But what did it mean? For the first night in my life I had a dream of a different situation rather than the dark black hole I usually dream of.

I take a shower to remove the dry blood clinging to my skin. Thank goodness it’s the weekend; otherwise I would be forced to go to school in this state. When my shower is done I plunk down onto my bed, my eyes staring intensely at the ceiling. I’m trying to come up with an answer: could that dream mean anything?