Dawud.

Chapter 10: Momma Bear

  بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful 

  "I'm glad my youngest daughter Jannah listened to me. I wouldn't want her goofing around and falling in love with some guy named Dawud!" My mother proclaimed. Her laughter caused all the girls to double-over, rubbing the tears from their cheeks. Muna's hand reached for my wrist and Warsan grabbed my shoulder...

Jannah's P.O.V

I glared at my mother. Her mouth was twisted into a wicked smile. "I'm glad you've stayed so true and honest with me. You know, they say you can't have a relationship with your daughters unless you're best friends and I really am happy that we're best friends, Jannah and Mariam." She ended. I watched her warily as she made her way to the couch. My mother kissed me on the forehead, causing an orchestra of 'Awhs' to circulate the room. She then moved the stray hairs that fell from my ponytail away from my ears and brought her lips insanely close. "You will not talk to him again. You will not see him again. You will tell your father that everything is over. Now, smile like I've just told you that I love you." She spat. I froze. "Do it now." She hissed.

I hated myself for doing it, but it couldn't be helped. I felt the corners of my lips pull upwards. My smile contrasted against the tears falling down my cheeks. Everyone carried on with their conversations, including my mother. She walked off to speak to one of Mariam's older friends. I was still frozen. My knees were like jelly and my lips were quivering. I turned to look at Warsan who looked just as affected. Muna stiffened her grasp around my wrist but I lightly pulled away from her, walking through the crowd.

"Come here." A voice said, pulling me into the basement. The hand guided me downstairs, into one of the tents I built for tonight's sleepover with Muna and Warsan. I didn't need to see who it was. I already knew.

"Mariam, did you see how she manipulated me? Did you-" I choked and sobbed, crying against her. She pulled me close and nodded. "She must've heard me speaking to Muna and Warsan upstairs. I'm so stupid! Why did I leave the door open?" I wept. Mariam rubbed my back.

"It's okay, Jannah. You're going to be okay." She said softly. I shook my head.

"After she kissed me, she told me that I can never see or speak to Dawud again and that I have to tell dad to call the whole thing off." I reported. "How am I going to be okay?"

Mariam yanked me off of her by my shoulders. She demanded that I look at her. "Because you have Allah. You have the King of kings. The Ruler and Creator of the heavens and the earth watching over you and protecting you. Do not forget that for a second." She told me sternly. I nodded, feeling shame and guilt wash over me.

"Astaghfir'Allah." I whispered.

"Jannah, you have to know that Mom said the same thing to me when I was planning on marrying Abdallah." Mariam chuckled. "She literally said the same exact thing. I was expecting her to spice up the words a little bit. I guess not." I tried to bite back a smile but failed miserably.

"What now? Do I listen to her or do I break her heart?" I asked.

Mariam grinned. "You need to push and push and push until mom can't say no anymore. You have to show her that you're ready and mature enough for marriage. You have to stand your ground and let her know that you're not giving up." She told me, holding her fist in the air.

"And what if Dawud doesn't turn out to be the guy meant for me?" I asked her. "All that effort would be a waste."

"If you don't end up with him, you still end up with mom's respect." She assured me. "You saw how she embarrassed me like that in front of all my friends, right? I've still got some work to do. Make sure it's not the same for you." Mariam said.

I nodded and rubbed my eyes. "How do I go back in there? How do I look at her?" I asked. I started shaking and shivering with anxiety. I fought the tears that begged me to surface. Mariam held me tighter than before, resting her chin on my head.

"You have to find it in you, Lil' munchkin."

It took some time and persuasion but I did it. I walked upstairs.

Once we finished praying Maghrib, it was time to eat dinner. A few of our guests ate in the living room, some in the kitchen and a few upstairs. My friends and I were sat in the kitchen, eating and talking about places we wanted to travel.

"I want to go to Dubai. Like, so badly." Warsan said. She then broke into a fit of giggles, grabbing Muna's arm. "Do you remember Jannah's presentation about Dubai in Travel & Tourism class back in high school?" She asked.

Muna nodded. "Yeah! It was so well-put and professional for a junior in high school." She teased me.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I followed the criteria given, unlike you two." I shot back. I stared at them challengingly until I broke into giggles too. "Oh, who am I kidding? I spend hours making that slideshow." I admitted. We were having a blast until my mother strolled into the kitchen. Immediately, the air thickened and made it hard to breathe.

"Guys, can I have a moment alone with my daughter?" She asked my friends. They nodded and walked off. Warsan turned around and put a supportive fist in the air before being dragged away by Muna. I watched as my mother sat across from me, squinting her eyes and studying me.

"I'm just trying to figure out where I went wrong." My mother scoffed and stared at me some more. "I thought I raised a perfect daughter. I really did—And you were perfect. You were perfect until today." She said casually.

I told myself to be strong. I had to ignore the heart in my chest that crumbled and broke into pieces. I told myself to brush off her words and give them no meaning. I told myself to be strong until I got the courage to speak up. "I'm not something you can refine into whatever you want. I'm a human being. I make mistakes, but this decision isn't one." I told her, referring back to Dawud.

My mother shook her head. "I understand marriage. Trust me. I understand marriage. I know what is right for you and when it is right for you." She said sharply.

I pulled my eyebrows together in frustration. Before I spoke, I took a breath. I didn't want to yell at my mother. I had to deal with her gently and respectfully, just like how Islam has taught me. "I respect and acknowledge the fact that you know what marriage is about and that you know what's right for me. But to say that you know when something is right for me is crossing the line. You're not Allah." I answered calmly.

"I am your mother." She defended, unknowingly pushing out her chest with pride.

"You are not Allah." I told her gently. She stood up, hot and bothered.

"You and Mariam are going to pack your bags. I don't want you two in the house for the rest of the week." She ordered.

I gasped. "What? Mom, what do you mean? Mariam didn't even do anything!" I protested. I could deal with getting kicked out of the house and being treated wrongly but I wouldn't stand for Mariam being punished because of me.

"She got married! That's what she did wrong!" My mother shrieked. Her voice came out hoarse and broken. The people conversing in the living room grew silent. My mother stormed off, disappearing from sight.

I gulped and stared down at my lap, reminding myself that Allah doesn't burden a soul more than it can bear.

Allah doesn't burden a soul more than it can bear.

Chapter Eleven ->