His Hafizah and her Hafiz

Changed

*3 years later*

Abu Hurairah POV:

Everything changed!

I changed, I am no longer the old religious person striving to reach Allah. I am caught up with the world, too caught up that I am losing Allah.  All I have with me right now was the Quran and Salah, which I was following weakly. Very weakly!

I was being peer pressured into things by my friends surrounding me, I left the Islamic boarding school I use to go to two years ago with my sister and cousin. Ever since Hawa and Huzaifah left for university, mom took me out and placed me in this public school and that became my downfall.

What she didn't know was that I was falling into the Shaytans every traps pretty fast, I was drowning in it. The traps were like sugar-coated candy, cookies, and gingerbread houses for a child, I was the child in this case allured by the music, by the peculiar clothing, the haram words. They all glittered and shone in front of my eyes, but inside those glittering attractions lived a piece of Jahannam, a burning fire prepared to capture their victim. 

This was the twenty-second century, everyone wore ripped clothes; starting from your head to toe everything had to be ripped if you wanted to fit in society. My hoodie was ripped from the backside and my jeans were a little ripped too from the knees. If I was my younger self three years ago, I would have been disgusted with myself. Extremely disgusted, because I always looked up to Huzaifah who was always ready to follow every commandment of Allah. His imaan was strong perhaps!

I looked at myself in the mirror, I looked great enough to impress my friends. Not enough to impress me. The self-respect I had for myself had long evaporated years ago. I was a normal seventeen-year-old trying my best to fit in with society. What I didn't do was dye my hair into those funky colours and pierce my face like the rest of the teenagers in class, who always tried to force me into it, but somehow I always got out of their peer pressure. 

Why was I such a victim to society? To peer pressure?

"Hurairah, there must be something in the kitchen for you." Hawa hollered from downstairs, wearing her shoes at the front door. "I'm leaving. Huzaifah's here." 

I sauntered downstairs finding her standing in front of the door with a backpack slung over her shoulders, Huzaifah stood beside her giving me a disapproving look. He knew better than to leave me alone because I wouldn't give him a damn if he lectured me, those days were gone. I was gone.

"Assalamu alaikum Father of Cats!" Huzaifah smiled anyway, burying his disappointment and giving me a quick bro hug.

 "Assalamu Alaikum wa rahmatullah, uncle Yusuf!" He greeted looking at my father who just entered the living room changed into his work clothes. Huzaifah reached both his hands to clamp my father's hands into his for a handshake, the Muslim way of a handshake. 

"Huzaifah my nephew, how's your Quran?" Dad grinned, hugging him. Yup, that's how we greeted each other in this family, first thing dad always asked about is our Quran status in our hearts.

"Alhamdullilah!" Huzaifah smiled, returning the hug. Huzaifah was clad in his thobe and turban since University didn't have any strict uniform code. He was always on the right path, I wish I could ignore Shaytans whispers just like him. But too bad, I couldn't!

Some people just had it hard to resist the evil whispers, but that didn't mean I was going to let Satan possess my soul.

"Sisters?" Dad asked. Umme Qulsum was his beautiful baby sister, always eager to bring a smile to my face and I loved her back treating her like my own baby sister.