A Hint of Something Beautiful - Short Stories/Imagines

Pakistan.

I am a young girl who lives in Pakistan. My hijab conceals the hidden girl beneath. No one hardly ever notices me fly by in a wink, but I enjoy that about me. I can go wherever I wish, whenever I wish. No one even casting me a second glance.

Who would? I'm just a simple girl trying to make the most of her life. The others are too busy anyways, doing whatever life required of them.

I look up and gaze at the buildings that are stacked upon each other, seeming as if they are teetering on the edge of the sky. I blend in with the shadows looming over the streets and side shops as I make my way home. I occasionally buy a sweet or a naan to fill my time after school.

As I'm taking a stroll through the city, the dusty air filled my scarred lungs, the air couldn't be much more polluted than it already is. The sky was constantly shades of brown and red, laying a haze that covered the city. The sun always masked by the merciless clouds.

The sun.

It never went away, except at night, but that was normal for a day routine. The sun though, it wasn't kind most days. It's light shining down on the city through the clouds, slowly melting us away. Maybe that's why other people traveled by shadows too; to escape the light.

I quickly crossed a busy street with hundreds of cars flooding the road. The people kept wanting to buy cars, but it wasn't going to get you anywhere any faster. One simple trip down the road would take an hour, compared to a 15 minute walk.

But was the walk worth it with the sun evilly glaring at us?

I passed by several shops on my casual walk home. The shops and markets in town are always filled with many people too.

"Why can't they all just stay at home?" my dad would say as we bought some meat at the store across the street. The butcher's market always smelled like blood and animals, but it was clean. Nothing but knives, raw meat, and cash.

"They're here for the exact same reason we are, Baba," I'd always reply, because that's the truth. There were so many people who were constantly needing what we needed. However, I'm surprised they always had whatever we wanted in stock though.

Impressive. High demand I guess.

(A.N. Gotta get that bank. Am I right, or am I right?)

The closer I got to home, the streets cleared out a bit, not very much, but just enough to breathe. The houses were still packed together along with the people continuing to mosey around. The cars incessantly honked a block or two away, but I was used to it. This was my route everyday, I had to get used to it.

There were the occasional children playing out in the road and messing around, of course. They were either playing cricket or badminton. Sometimes, if I had time, I would watch them scurry around a make shift playing field as they all dived for the ball. During that crucial moment of the game, the boys would destroy their school uniforms with the left behind stains of grass and dirt.

The children would definitely hear from their parents about that though. They were just kids and anything their parents did or said, would not make them back down from their play time.

As time carried on, I finally made it home. Ammi had laid out freshly cooked food as an after school snack. The delicious smell wafted through my nose before I even opened the door. My brothers had already devoured their food and were chasing each other around the house, as usual.

I was the oldest, so of course, I sat with my mother and talked about life. How my school day went. What she bought while she was at the market. My choice in careers. The ideal husband. Everything a mother and daughter could discuss, really.

After I finished my homework, I planned on heading to the mosque. I haven't been able to say them in congregation because life has become so busy for me.

I quickly washed up after answering the last question on my paper. I grabbed a quick bite of my fathers tandoori chicken for dinner and then made my way out the door. I hollered a quick 'thanks' before fully leaving the house.

People began to fill in the prayer rooms as the sun began to sink. We lined up, shoulder to shoulder, ankle to ankle, in rows. The prayer commenced and only the sound of the imam could be heard.

Everyone was together, moving in smooth movements as we worshiped our creator. The one who had brought life to us all.

My heart began to slow as I really took the time to enjoy these peaceful moments, afraid that I will never get another like this. I think the thing that scares me the most about growing up is not being able to worship the one who created life as we know it.

As we sat and turned our heads right, then left, I realized this is what my life is like as a Muslim girl in an average country called Pakistan.

Most days, life was repetitive, but the ones that weren't, made the best memories.

*Author's Note*

Yo!! I hope you liked this story!! I have never lived in Pakistan before, but I am a derivative from the country! The next few stories will most likely be chaotic because I wrote them during a creative writing class. Anyways, thank you and don't forget to vote and comment!