Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 6

As I squint open my eyes, the immense light blinds me, but slowly my vision clears, and I take in my surroundings. The digestive system poster, the skull diagram poster on the opposite wall, and the strong smell of detergent tell me that I am in the medical room.

I notice Azar and the nurse by the door speaking softly.

I feign to be asleep for some time and try to listen to their conversation, but I can't hear them. When the whispering stops, I peek and find Azar gone. I try to sit up, and the nurse rushes to me. "Oh, you are awake, miss," she speaks in a heavy Arabic accent.

"I'm fine. I want to go," I urge and attempt to sit up again, and the nurse adjusts the pillows to support my back and helps me.

"Miss, you can go home soon," she assures in a sweet voice. "Your homeroom teacher is absent, and she has your parent's number, so we couldn't call your parents and tell them you fainted."

"No!" I startle her. I start coughing and she gives me water. I gulp it in and keep the glass aside. "Please don't call my parents," I beg her on the verge of tears.

The doctor enters the room, and the nurse gives her space. She sits on the bed and smiles at me warmly. "Abeer Irfan, don't worry, dear. You will be okay."

"In Sha Allah," I mutter. "Please don't call my parents..." My eyes catch a glimpse of her name on her coat, "Dr. Fatima."

She frowns. "Why? They should know."

"I promised them that if I faint again in school, I will do as they say, and that means my dad will stop my education," I admit. "I want to study and become someone worthy."

"Dear, worth isn't defined by education, it is by your character," she corrects wisely.

"But I want to study and have a job and be independent," I persist, my voice cracks. "My dad..."

"Okay, I will not," she reassures me, patting my knee. She then glances at the nurse before cautiously asking, "Is your dad... oppressive? You have scars... Does he... hit you?"

"No!" I exclaim. "I love him, and he isn't violent or oppressive. The scars... They are from long ago. Pops is just concerned about me. He didn't do it. And I promised him. I promised him I won't let... my past... I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, okay calm down," she soothes me. "Lucky you, your homeroom teacher was absent then."

Azar enters the room, and I look away because I don't have the courage to face him. "Here I brought the medicines you told me to," he says to the nurse and gives her the bag.

I can feel his eyes on me, and I wish once again he would just go. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Alhamdulillah."

As if he cares.

"I'll just wait outside."

"What are the medicines for?" I ask Dr. Fatima.

"Some snacks and multivitamins and calcium," she replies. "Take one pill of both each day and do monthly check-ups. You need to eat well and sleep. Take care of your body, Ms. Irfan. It is a blessing from Allah." I nod. She probably thinks I don't sleep because of social networking sites; little does she know the real reason behind my severe insomnia...

"You rest here," she tells me, handing me the plastic bag. "And drink that juice and eat some chocolate."

"Thank you for understanding and not telling my parents."

"No problem." She signs some papers and leaves.

I eat the chocolate, and when the crumbs fall on my hijab, I realize my hijab is still on my head. "Thank you for not removing my hijab," I say to the nurse.