"I know that we will never be a real couple, but we can at least be nice to each other Aneel" I told him. I've had enough. Tears were starting to prick my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. He looked over at me in a weird expression. Like if I died in front of him, he wouldn't care. "You don't get it, do you?! I. will. never. love. you! I will never care for you. You wait, every day, for me to come home and have dinner with you like normal couples do- you are pathetic. You are nothing! Absolutely nothing to me. You are not even worth my words. You are a loser who has nobody- your parents? They are just like me. They knew that you were worthless and wanted to get rid of you" he said angrily. I was not angry at him. He was telling the truth. I'm nothing. Never was, never will. I nodded. He was right. He was so damn right. Sahra Ali is eighteen years old when she gets married. It was not a marriage out of love, no, she was forced into it. Shre grew up being abused. Her parents sold her for money. No parent would do that, so are her so called parents her real parents? She is trying to survive this marriage, because she believes in Allah and knows that He had a good reason that He gave her all these pain. Aneel Osman is a badboy who wants nothing to do with Islam. He was a muslim when he was younger, but when something bad happened, he blamed Allah for it. Deep inside he knows that it is wrong, but shoves that thought away. He began doing the things Allah prohibited. There was no one to hold onto or to pull him out. He kept falling and falling. And when he has to deal with that girl his parents wants him to marry, he is losing himself more and more. Read the description in the book for the fully version! This is a short draft! ~ Salaam guys, this story is edited! Almost everything has CHANGED and it is now a mature story. I like how it turned out. Thank you for all your support! It still contains small grammar mistakes. You have been warned:)

"Who did you say she is?" Osman demanded from the man. The prisoner was shaking and pleading for his life but did not say anything as he got aware of the terrible blunder he had made. "Answer me or I will end your miserable life right here right now" waves of anger was visible in Osman's eyes. He raised his sword intending to cut the man's throat. "Stop" Arta shouted. Osman slightly turned his head to Arta's direction while his sword was still high above his head ready to strike. Arta's heart was beating so fast, she was frightened but at the same time, she couldn't see this monster kill one of her people and do nothing. "I am Shahzadeh Arta. The only daughter of King Darian." Arta confessed. Her voice was louder than normal and a bit shaky. Osman chuckled coldly. A devilish smile appeared on his face. In the blink of an eye, he cut the man's throat. Everyone was silent only a faint hysteric cry of a woman from the cage could be heard. Arta's body was numb. She was just gazing at the man's lifeless body with teary eyes. Osman turned back and after cleaning the blood on his sword with the prisoner's clothes he lowered his head and whispered into Arta's ear, "you are just a slave now".

[You can now purchase 100 Voicemails' paperback on Amazon!] After a car accident, seventeen year old Steve Carlton, goes into a coma. When he does wake up after a few months, he suffers from temporary memory loss. During this time, he starts to go through his messages and voicemails on his cellphone, trying to get a clue of who he used to be. Voicemails sent to him from a girl called Ari might have the answers to his questions. A story told through voicemails.

Jokes.. Halal PickUp Lines Credit goes to the uploader.. -SaimaM.

Some halal jokes to get all your troubles off your mind, and have a laugh with your brothers and sisters. ❤

One Shots from 'A Muslim's Romantic Journey' The following will contain short chapters from any character from A Muslim's Romantic Journey. This could be at any time of their life and could even contain a short story in itself. Read on to get into the minds of characters you think you know...