Zaynub Khalid

My eyes stung. I bet they were red and puffy now. My face was probably stained with tears. Baba had a stroke, which made him paralyzed. The doctors said they needed to do surgery on him right away because blood wasn't going into his brain properly. They told us to wait in the waiting room, and with each passing moment, I felt like I was dying on the inside.

My mother was taking this really hard. I could hear her heavy breaths. Amir was trying to be strong, but his eyes are glistening in tears, which dared to fall down. Everyone was here, silently shedding tears and making duaa (small prayer) for my Baba.

Ya Allah, I can't lose Baba. I loved him. He was the one who always brought me back to my faith, the one who always told me that Allah would never leave me. He was the one who inspired me to become a better Muslim with each day that passed by, the one who worked hard to help his family. The man who had to suffer so much for our family. 

The thought of him leaving broke my heart. It felt as if I were being repeatedly stabbed in the heart. The heavy feeling just wouldn't leave. I wanted him to be okay, not ill especially like this. Ya Allah, please help him.

As I was deep in my thoughts, I didn't notice that Zakir was standing in front of me. I couldn't see very well because my vision was blurry from my tears. I looked up at him to see him almost hurt looking at me.

"Zaynub, please don't cry," Zakir sighed.

"Not cry? My Baba is in a life or death situation and you expect me not to cry?!" I said angrily.

"I didn't mean it like that. It just hurts to see you this way, and you need to be strong for your mother. She needs you right now," he spoke gently.

"I-It hurts to k-know that he might n-not survive. Anything c-could happen. I just f-feel so helpless. Y-You know?" I sobbed into my hands.

Zakir sighed, and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"I know this is hard for you. Zaynub, your father would want you to make as much duaa as you can for him. I just hate to see you cry. It makes me feel helpless that I can't help you. You're not helpless. You're a wonderful daughter and sister. Don't you ever doubt that," he said that with so much sincerity that I actually believed him.

To say I was surprised was an understatement. Zakir has never said anything this sweet to me. This was like a new him. He felt hopeless because he couldn't help me. Was he lying when he says that? 

"Zaynub, right now your mother needs you. You need to be strong for her," he sighed.

I nodded my head in understanding. With that, he walked away. Zakir was right, I needed to be strong for Amu. I walk over to her seat. She looked up at me, sniffling. It broke my heart to see her like that. Her sadness was reflecting in her eyes. I sat down next to her and hugged her. She started crying on my shoulder.

Oh Allah, please ease this pain. It was breaking my heart. Please let Baba be alright, please. I'm begging You. I didn't realize that tears were streaming down my face until I felt wetness on my hand. My chest felt heavy and my breathing was coming out in gasps. I barely ever cried like this. Soon I was shaking from the waterfalls pouring down my cheeks. 

* * * *

It had been eight hours and everyone cried themselves out to the point where tears wouldn'tfall anymore. Everyone cried themselves to sleep except Zakir and I. Amu looked so pained, even in her sleep. My tears dried out but I still kept making duaa, and the heavy feeling in my chest never left.

I noticed that Zakir was looking at me attentively. It was as if he were soaking in my features, but he quickly lowered his gaze. His face seemed to flash an emotion of hurt. Why did he look hurt? Was he serious when he said he hates me being sad because it broke his heart? 

I shook my head. He doesn't think of me that way. He never would. I let out a sigh, which grabbed Zakir's attention.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just thinking," I said truthfully.

"You think too much. Give your brain a break and get some rest," he advised.

"No, it's okay. I just get lost in my thoughts sometimes, you know?" I said.

"I know the feeling," he sighed.

"Do you think my Baba will be alright?" I asked.

"I honestly don't know, but if we all keep making duaa then In Shaa Allah (If God wills it) he will," he smiled reassuringly.

I blushed. He actually smiled at me. Wait, what's wrong with me? I shouldn't be blushing. I gave myself a mental facepalm. I couldn't believe that I blushed in front of him!

"You look cute when you blush," he blurted.

"What?" I asked wondering if I heard him right.

"Nothing," he quickly said.

A faint pink tinted his tanned skin. Zakir is actually blushing! That's a first. An awkward silence fell upon us.

"How's life been treating you?" he asked breaking the silence.

"Obviously really well, Alhamdulillah (Thanks to God). That's excluding our current situation," I replied.

"That's good," he said nervously.

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked.

"Water would be fine," I answered.

He nodded his head and walked off. He seemed so awkward when I caught him blushing. I had to admit it was pretty cute. I probably shouldn't have been thinking that of him, but my brain had a mind of its own.

I looked out the window and I saw visions of Baba and I when I was young. Oh, how I wish I could help him now. He always helped me. Once again tears flooded my eyes.

"Zaynub," whispered Hajar.

I quickly wiped my tears and turned to look at her. Her eyes were red and puffy and her face was stained in tears. That was probably how I looked now. I motioned for her to come to me and she did. Hajar laid her head on my chest and started sobbing as well. She needed me right now.

* * * *

Hajar Khalid

I couldn't believe how much my life sucked right now. First, I got bullied in school, and then my father was dying. My life was in shambles at this point.

Zaynub started stroking my head as I sob into her already wet chest. School had been really tough ever since I started wearing the hijab. Kids always bullied me and they said such nasty things. The whole school believed that I was a freak. I know Allah is testing me, but it got hard sometimes.

Ya Allah, please ease my pain. I loved Baba. He was such an amazing man. He didn't deserve to go like this. I needed Baba. I didn't want to get bullied. I wanted to be a good Muslimah. I wanted to be like Zaynub, strong and beautiful. I was neither of those. I was so weak. No, I shouldn't think like that. Allah made me who I am and I should be happy.

"It's going to be alright," whispered Zaynub.

"H-How?" I asked.

"Allah will help us," she replied calmly.

"Zaynub?" my voice came out thin.

"Hmm?" she said while stroking my head.

"Do you like wearing the hijab?" I asked.

"I love it," she said.

I got up to look at her. "Why?" I asked.

"Because I am wearing it for my Creator. I am pleasing him. I'm being modest and humble. When I wear my hijab it reminds me that I'm a Muslim. That I have been sent down here for a purpose. I am being tested. It's a promise I make to Allah and myself. Plus, it makes me beautiful because I am doing the right thing," she smiled.

I stared at her in shock. The hijab meant so much to her. I wanted to be just like that. I loved the meaning behind the hijab, I just didn't like the struggles that came with it from society's pressures on who I should be, yet Zaynub didn't seem like she even care about that. Zaynub didn't care about what others thought of her, she only cared about Allah and His commands. 

While I was deep in my thoughts the doctor came into the waiting room. Everyone stood up. The look on the doctor's face was enough evidence for me to know that he was going to say something that would really crush me on the inside.

"I'm afraid I have terrible news," he said.