Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 1

You.

Have you ever wondered that you have one of the greatest weapons; a cure for the disease of the heart?

Yes, you and I.

You own the sharpest blade which exists. You can rip souls and shatter hearts, yet you can heal the wounded and melt thawed hearts from stone to a sanctuary; you have something that can change people.

Don't know what I am on about?

Words fascinate me, yet I fear words.

Words upon words had tortured me years ago, yet thousands of pages of words can take me into different worlds, making me long to be a part of their fates and stories instead.

And the biggest gift, the biggest act of love, are the words of Allah.

What words will we hold on to, and what words will we let go define us. But is it possible to hold and leave what we wish to hold on and leave, or are we imprisoned forever by what we once heard?

Am I imprisoned forever? Am I doomed? When will my fight end?

I realize that I have been staring at the mobile's lock screen listlessly, and my chain of thoughts breaks.

I blink hard and look away from the screen, and spots appear in front of my eyes. I wait for them to adjust and look around the room with a shaky breath.

Breathe, Abeer. I assure myself as my heart rate starts shooting. No one is here, I tell myself. I don't know whether I truly believe it. I dart my eyes toward every detail of the room as I try to accept the fact that I am really alone.

The ordeal seems silly, doesn't it? I wish it was silly for me too, but it is too important for me because my family never leaves me alone- never.

Today is a very special day as I have finally managed to convince Pops and Mom that I am as sane as any other person and that I could be left alone, and they finally agreed.

Today, I was given my own room.

It might not be a big deal to a lot of people and might be to some for different reasons. Well, for me, it is because now I can finally stop being a burden to everyone around me. All I need to do now is to sleep alone and survive the night.

I take a deep breath as another attempt to calm my heart, and the smell of solitude fills me; it makes me smile almost- almost. I try to remember the last time I genuinely smiled.

Faking smiles to me is like a reflex that I can't undo.

Who knew by the attempts of pretending, I'd forget my own reality? Yet I consider this a curse and a blessing, a talent that is extremely helpful for me to get through life. I don't have to lie much. I just put up a convincing smile that people don't ask me questions that don't provoke me to lie to them, and it is a relief anyways for them to not know.

The atmosphere of seclusion gets interrupted by a slight knock at the door, and I know it is Maliha even before I look up. "Couldn't sleep, Abeer?" She lingers at the door for a few seconds awkwardly­­. Her tired soft brown eyes find my haunted ones on the couch before she enters and plops down on my bed. "I saw your lights are on, so I thought I'd come here."

Even though her face doesn't show, I know she islying. She is still doubtful of me. She believes that leaving me alone all bymyself won't do any good, but I let her lie and put on a smile.

"How is your exam preparation?" I ask, sitting a little straighter.

"It's okay, I guess," she says,shrugging and subconsciously trying to tame the hair that sticks out of herponytail. She then chuckles and elaborates, "Actually, my results willtell how well I'm actually prepared."