Repentance

Was she hurt?

Hurt with all the worldly surroundings?

Crimson nerves inside those cinnamon eyes popping out, giving off a majestic look of destruction. She sat there adamant. Face reluctant of any expressions but those salted tears leaving her eyes, told a different story.

Anger? Sadness? Vulnerability? Or should I say... Acceptance.

Acceptance of her flaws.

The piercing screams of her mother rebuking her made her nothing but more reluctant. She kept staring at that white wall in front of her. the harsh texture looked fascinating all of a sudden.

Had it not been forbidden to hang oneself, that old ceiling fan would make more use of itself other than being the shelter for spidey during this late winter.

All of those words were true, she indeed was useless. She indeed was below the average. But she lived with a hope , a hope that someday someone might actually look beyond these flaws. Someday someone might accept her as she was. She was tired. tired of life.

But for a mere moment she felt the remorse. Maybe from the corner of her buried emotions, she still had that bubbly innocent girl hidden and too shy to step out? She was shameless beyond any human comprehension although that bubbly one was always the one who kept her sane. Sane enough to flash a fake smile among the disgusting society of fake facade.

Tired of herself,

she opened a fake chat....

to?

to the one who created her.

the one whom she believes. at this moment... she needed him.

Allah (Active)

Allah are you there?

(sent)

I know you won't

reply.

(sent)

I know I've wronged

you so many times.

Allah can you please

forgive me?

(sent)

I am so sorry Allah.

I have blamed you for

ridiculous things.

I know you're the

most gentle and

forgiving.

Allah forgive me please.

kiss my tears away

please.

(sent)

please make these

tears stop Allah.

My heart is hurting so

much.

(sent)

She stopped. Was it actually worth it? she questioned herself. This world was tired of her but was her creator too? She decided to ask one last question...

Allah am I really ugly?

Body dysmorphophobia... a disease where you find flaws in yourself every time you look into the mirror.

Perhaps it's right what they said, never share your weakness or insecurities with others. She somehow, did. And they took their renowned advantage.

She thought that the answer from her creator was on pending. She thought she wouldn't get an answer anytime soon but then she heard it.

That melodious voice ringing it's echo through her eardrums and inviting her to her success.

'Allahu Akbar Allah hu Akbar

Ashhadu al la ilaha illallah.'

Adhan....

A voice she sometimes liked and a voice she sometimes neglected.

Though she didn't neglect this time.

The scorching sun dimmed down leaving out the caramel hue all over the dusky sky. She adorned a long cotton like fabric over her, which she calls... a hijab.

laying down a velvety prayer mat, she started her prayer.

That shy bubbly girl took over her arrogant self.

With heart full of repentance,

Cinnamon eyes shedding rivers of tears.

"Allahu Akbar"

She said her first takbeer .

Her pale skin adorned with the teardrops, creased with the intensity of her cries. Silent tho... She thought she didn't want anyone to witness her vulnerability accept the one... the only ... the eternal.

As she gave out her second Salam, she suddenly had the idea to open Quran. The book that talks to her.

She caressed the dusty cover and decided to open a random page.

And did she lie when she said that this book talked to her.... It sure did.

"Indeed, We created humans in the best form. "

- ( Surah At Tin - 4)

was her answer to her question.

She loved it, every time she goes overboard Allah talks to her and she loved it. If there was someone who never neglected her, that would be her creator.

It's wild to love someone who loves you back with the same intensity. And to love Allah is euphoric.

In the beginning of the year, she found out Allah took away many things that she held dear to her. It broke her but she knew Allah only wanted her to depend on Allah alone and no one else.

And she made that Dua.

"Ya Allah, make me love you only."

And oh how beautiful the love story had been. To love the one who's the closest to you, closer than the neurons sending shocks through your brain, closer than the crimson that flows through your vein.

To love the one who sends you love letters in a form of a book. The book being the biggest book in the entire universe.

To love someone who's love for you is equal to the love of 70 mothers.

She found out her first true love had always been with her, everywhere she went.

She had fallen in love with him even before she knew what love is.

And this love won't break her.

This will make her unbreakable to the point where she will smile and it won't be the false one to show the fake facade of society.

This love will grant her success inshahAllah.