Different Girl
- LECTURAS 349
- Votos 60
- Partes 1
Concluida sáb, oct 28, 20178m
ISLAM IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS. IT IS MUCH SIMPLER.
This girl is different. Her thoughts are different, her choices are different, her dreams are different. But what happens when her dreams collide with society?
What happens when they are rejected by culture?
What happens when culture is replaced by religion?
Read to know the story of a different yet random girl.
~~~~~
Unedited. Contains a lot of grammatical errors. If anyone can edit, pm me.
Todos los derechos reservados
#494
culture
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"𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚." ~~ DIVORCE AGREEMENT. My hands went numb. The paper trembled between my fingers. I looked up at him, praying it was some kind of twisted joke. But he didn't even flinch. He just pushed the pen towards me, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "Sign it, Mishti. You wanted him free. This is the cost." My chest tightened, the fever, the ache, the weight of everything crashing over me all at once. Behind me, I heard Arav struggling, his voice raw, "Don't you dare, Mishti! Don't beg to him. Don't give him that satisfaction. He should be the one apologising to you, not the other way around!" Sultan clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing. "He's still talking... making me angrier." His tone was calm, terrifyingly calm. "If I want, I can let him rot here for years. Do you want that, Mishti?" My stomach twisted. My hands were shaking uncontrollably now. He was serious. Dead serious. The inspector slid the pen into my hand. My eyes stung, the words blurring on the page. I didn't even recognize my own handwriting when I pressed the pen down, signing my name with a trembling hand. It felt like I was signing away more than just a marriage. I was signing away a part of myself. When I lifted my head, Sultan was watching me. Not triumphant, not smiling-just cold. "I want to start fresh. I'm planning to get married again. I don't want your nuisance anymore." I swear in that moment, something inside me just collapsed. Like all the years, all the love, all the pain I carried-it was for nothing. I wanted to scream, wanted to beg him to just once look at me the way he used to. He fixed his watch, straightened his cuffs, and picked up his coat like this was just another meeting that was done.
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