The Head Cover

The Head Cover-1

"The Head Cover"

© All rights reserved by Bellasonline

This story is a work of fiction; the characters are not real and the settings is not true. but I built it based on the news I often hear about the threat issued to the Hijab wearing Muslim girls. This is a fight faced by a young girl, who tried to oppose, but failed along the way and who is saved later by someone else. don't be too harsh, don't judge without reading fully. If you enjoy it, let me know. If you don't, well don't bother me. Vote. and Comment. With Love, Fathima

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1: Damage to my Individuality

I leaned against my best friend, Annalise Jordan, my hand protectively wrapped around the pink tote bag, as I stared at the group of teenagers rushing in and out of the large shopping mall. I wasn't a tomboy in anyway, but I found shopping tiring and I hated that.

"I know this is a stupid idea." I frowned at Anna, my brown eyes shooting daggers at her. She frowned resolutely before tucking a lock of her hair behind her ears.

"You need a new head cover and I need a new dress. It's a perfect arrangement." She said in a low tone, sounding too serious. I looked at the black head cover (Hijab) I was wearing and shrugged non- committed. It was looking perfect and I didn't find a need to change it.

"There's nothing wrong with this head-cover and I don't need a new one, Ann. I already have bunches of this in home." I said with a frown.

Ann, being her usual self, didn't hear my protest as she dragged me inside the big shopping mall. I had been here many times, but still I felt like an intruder here. The pointed stares of passing people told me what they thought of me inside their mind. I didn't care, really, but sometimes it bothered me to no end and I had this urgent need to quip something straight at their face like... I didn't want to say it out loud, even inside my head!!! It was that bad. Muvahahaaha...

"Zara! just shut up. Stop bothering me. I have to search for the perfect dress for my brother's marriage." Anna said in an irritated tone. Her brother, Daniel Jordan was getting married in two weeks and Anna was going berserk about finding the perfect dress, the one that would make her shine. I would never understand her need to look perfect, for really, she'd look just as good in a baggy shirt and cargo pants, so unlike me.

I wasn't ugly, but I was pretty in a limited version. I wouldn't look too good like Anna in anything I wore. My eyes were too brown to be attarctive, my mouth too plump and my skin too tan. I was overall an average looking girl, who couldn't be categorized as being BEAUTIFUL. But I loved me this way.

"Nothing slutty!" I whispered inside her ears as Anna's eyes stalked the girl who had just traipsed past us. Her dress was a pale pink color and extremely showy. I hated such dresses which made you look like a hooker. Heard about self-respect!!!

"Sure, or you'll never shut up!" Being my best friend for years, she had limited herself in her choice of wardrobe. I wouldn't say I was a tyrant, but I preferred comfy clothes and I hated outrageously showy ones, and Anna sometimes shared my outlook on the dresses. So, we got along just fine, even though our faith was completely and utterly different.

We often argued about God. She said there was none like that. I would argue back and said 'God is the one Who created the universe, created human and everything.' The banter was always futile, but we never stopped arguing. She wanted to prove me there was no God and I, Zara Malik, a Muslim girl with so much passion towards her God, her Allah, wanted to prove her otherwise. But the result was nil, still. No blame in trying though!