"I show my scars so others know that they can heal"

-Rachelle Nicole-

Soft fingers pressed against the keys of the dark ,wooden piano, filling the air with a peaceful sinphony.

Each note making it's presence known by producing a melodious sound that contrasted with the harsh beats of the world outside the  window, located a few feet away.

We often judge people by their appearance, their choices and their preferences without knowing what could be the tragic, sad or memorable story behind it .

Healing isn't only improving your physical health, whether it be gaining weight or the process of handling the pain in a different way, without causing wounds to your body.
It's something deeper.

Healing is accepting yourself as the person you truly are and finding the courage to face the things that have been eating you alive.
Facing the Giants that have been an obstacle in your life, stopping you from moving forward and create a place in your head where your own life has a meaning, has value.

Everyone has their own healing mechanism, for some it's reading, Indulging themselves in books where they  relate to the characters and find a friend I'm them.

For some it's sports.
Running to free their minds.

For Najia it's music.

It had always been something she had loved since she was a child.
After Allah the one thing that made her feel peace was the sound of blissful notes tickling her delicate ears.

So here she was enjoying the Sunday morning in her living room, playing her favorite song after what felt like years.

Just as she hit the last key a series of applause resounded behind her.
She turned towards the door in shock and laughed out loud when she examined her husband standing in nothing but his sweatpants with Shajar on his right hip and Ahad on the left one.

She got up and walked towards the three of them with a content smile.
Ahad immediately made grabby hands towards his mother with his chubby little arms.

"Doctor sahab sy apny bcchy nhi smbhaly ja rhy?" She teased the beautiful man standing right in front of her.
"Smbhaly ja rhy haina bilkul...." He said while adjusting an almost sleeping shajar.

"Ji bilkul dikh raha hai" she teased once again.
He playfully glared at the adorable woman and pouted.
She kissed his cheeks as laughter bubbled from her lips making his heart feel thousands of different emotions.

"ap Jayen Fatima ko uski crib main laita dyn  pehly" she smiled at her daughter and caressed her small head .
He nodded and walked towards the troublemaker's room with small steps to not make to much movement and wake up his mini sleeping beauty.

Najia walked towards their room and sat on the bed while her son continued to constantly pull on the neck of her oversized shirt, well... Hadi's shirt.

"My baby is hungry isn't he" she cooed at Ahad who looked at her with his large Bambi hazel eyes.
She started feeding him and rested her back and head on the bed rest behind her.

Najia closed her eyes for a few moments and felt a muscalar figure laying his head on her shoulder and caressing their son's adorable chubby hand.

She sighed softly and prayed to Allah for their happiness.

She prayed that he'd give them the strength to face any hardships coming their way.

She prayed for the future of their children.

She prayed for their health.

And she prayed for them to keep healing and helping others to heal from the cruelty of this world.

"Our wounds are often the opening into the best and most
Beautiful part of us"

_David richo_

(Unedited)

Assalamualaikum!

Tried writing the "epilogue" of this...

Just wanted to let you guys know that I'm alive 😂

Hope All of you enjoyed.

I really want to edit this book so I'll probably do it, mostly the typos but if I can improve any scene I'll do that.

College has started again for me in presence, so I'm really busy but I'll be posting the aesthetics for the next story soon.

I'll try updating every weekend but I don't garantee anything 🙊.

Till next time,
Laiba❤️