Converting to Islam

Chapter 18

A deafening shriek thunders throughout the empty rooms of the house. My eyes pierce into Tyler's traitorous eyes. His hands are locked on my head, grabbing the fabric in tight fists. I struggle to loosen his grip, but they remain there arrogantly.

"Get off!" I cry, as he tries to pull my scarf off. My struggles to push him off are futile.

"You idiot! You’re ruining everything!" His eyes are bloodshot as he clings on to me like a psychopath. Through our fighting a kettle on the stove starts to emit a loud pitched scream."Do you really think I don't know what you’re doing? You can't fool me! I've waited a long time for this!"

I pant desperately for help. What should I do? What can I do?

My body is pressed hard against the kitchen counter. Tyler's strong body holds me down, suffocating me. His fingernails are dug deep into my skull, and I scream as he tries to pull my hair off along with the scarf. The kettle's cries become louder and louder as we are indulged in our desperate battle. My scarf starts to slip off. My hands are becoming weak. His mighty muscles are overpowering me - my teeth grit in frustration. He's about to end it before I even got to start it. I think of Allah; silently I pray for refuge. Everything starts to go silent as I feel Tyler's grip winning, and my scarf being pulled off. All I can hear is my panting, and the shrieking of the kettle. 

Water flashes dangerously close to my face. This time the scream doesn't belong to me: Tyler holds his hand in agony, his face scrunched into an expression of pure pain. He staggers away from me, holding his hand... Which seems to be scarlet red.

"MY HAND'S BURNING!" 

I stare in awe. Just a moment ago I was losing, but it seems that somehow and someway... I have won.

Just then I realise the high pitched sound of the kettle continuing its song. Quickly I turn it off. I am surprises to see that Water is in puddles around the kettle. Come to think of it the flash of water came from the direction of the kettle. Could this mean that the kettle had burned Tyler? 

I realise what must have happened: the water must have gotten so hot that it sprung out the spout. I had been a victim of an incident similar to this when I was a child. Once I was playing in the kitchen and the kettle starting screeching. So I went to see what the cause of this sound was, and as I stood beneath the kettle, water sprung out of the spout and onto my face. I had to go to the hospital after that.

I look at Tyler pitifully. He is still caressing his burnt hand. Somehow, I feel sorry for him, since I know how much it hurts. Nevertheless, not to say that he didn't deserve it.

I decide to be the better person and grab some ice. I wrap it around tissue and hand it over to him hesitantly.

"Use this," I mumble harshly, doing my best to keep my distance from him as I hand over the ice.

He looks up surprised. Anger dissolves from his face. For a few moments he just stares at me, however then he takes the ice from my hand and caresses his hand with it.

"Leave it there for 15 minutes." After saying this, I leave the hall, and go back into the safe walls of my room.