Thank you to everyone who voted all the chapters of the book, last week. If you still haven't voted, please take 5 minutes of your time pressing the vote button. (I take more time writing the chapters for you 😉) so please. It would help me a lot. ❤️
'Please answer my calls xx.'
'I am sorry.'
'Just need to talk to you. Please.'
'Baby? Please pick up.'
I continued to delete message after message; all from the same person: Ali Khan! He just didn't understand that a broken heart was a broken heart. It took me hours and hours to finally be able to go to sleep. The tears never seemed to end. Nightmares continued to haunt me; the same thing coming back to my mind. I was alone and felt empty.
I ached inside- it was a pain much greater than losing my mother. I had people beside me who loves me and takes care of me, but it's never like him. Nobody ever replaced his place. Nobody ever will.
'Call me back'
I was on the verge of throwing my phone against the wall and shattering it into pieces, like the way my heart was right now. The feeling that washed over me- knowing that one person cared less about you- trust me on this one- death is better. At least it would be over in a matter of minutes or seconds; but having to suffer every second of every day gave the meaning of a heartache a whole new definition.
My hand played with the yellow lighter as I continued to look at picture by picture- of me laughing; of us laughing. Some were more exposed than the other but it had one thing that I lacked today- Love!
"Amina?" called Imran, who was waiting for me outside. I gathered the pictures in my hand, ignoring his voice, and flicked the lighter over it. A small fire burned, the light reflecting in my eyes. Soon flames started to burn and each picture turned into ashes. It felt as if my heart burned with it; with the pictures; with the memories.
I cleaned up up the ashes that scattered the floor before wearing my graduation gown on top of my abaya. My 2 months baby bump was barely visible through it, although I did look chubbier. There was no glow in my face, just pure sadness and self pity. I wore the fake smile I learned to plaster on my face as I walked, head held high, into the living room.
"It's about time you showed up," Imran said. I gave him a small smile as I took my bag and headed out the door. His footsteps followed behind me. My phone started ringing again; a new number every time the old one gets blocked. My phone was snatched from my hand, as Imran removed the sim card and inserted another one he fetched from his pocket. I looked at him blankly and he gave me a sly smile. He returned my phone back to me, and I looked at it; it was as lifeless as me. The calls stopped and the silence seemed to drive me to insanity rather than peace I expected from it.
I got inside the passenger seat of Imran's silver Lexus, while Imran went behind the wheel. "We have an appointment," I reminded him. He turned to look at me and I knew he gad forgotten. Of course he had. He had his own life and all I was was a block in the road. I sighed and he looked forward without another word. "I'll go with Maya," I said, breaking the silence.
He started the car and looked at me once again, "no, there's no need for that. I'll be there." His tone and expression told me otherwise.
"It's really alright. I'll be fine." I told him, buckling myself.
"I promise! I'll get there as soon as I can," he said. His eyes held guilt as he ran his hands over his face. I wasn't his responsibility; I was his burden. And soon, there will be one more to the picture. I nodded, no longer wishing to drag the conversation any further. It seemed pointless having to go over the same thing again and again.
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Growing (An Islamic Life) *COMPLETED*
Spiritual#9 in Spiritual *********** On Wattpad's @TeenFictionOfficial Reading List "Soul Deep." Amina Abdulla is your everyday muslim living her everyday life. When things starts to change, her story is meant to be told. She battles through love and lust, f...