Akilah

          A thirteen year old girl sat out on her balcony that overlooked the expansive, very much alive, city. The cool breeze made her black, silk, headscarf billow and wave like a flag.  Her big, round, green eyes, flecked with gold, scanned the busy view before her. Tall buildings with thousands of windows and ginormous groups of people stood to her left. To her right, a beautiful, clam, body of water glistened in the afternoon summer sun.  A few boats gently drifted and rocked on the water's surface. A familiar voice called for her from inside the apartment she shared with her family. 

"Akilah, dinner is ready!" her mother, Aayliah, called.

          The girl stood up from her plastic chair and slid open the sliding glass door. She shut and locked the door behind her and walked to the dinning table. The apartment was modern with a few decorations from their few Hajj trips. She sat down at the already set table and laid her hands in her lap. Her younger brother, then her father, and eventually her mother, who was holding the dinner dish, joined her. They all had a peaceful, quiet, good dinner. 

After dinner, Akilah went back out to the balcony. She loved the balcony that was lined with a, painted black, twisted, steel railing. It gave her a tranquil and belonging feeling. She loved  the balcony and the wonderful city. Yes, the city was full of loud, obnoxious, racist, Islamophobic, people, but it seemed that every place in America was. And she did live in New York City, so it was expected to have those people there. She sat down and smiled down at the view in front of her. 

"Subhanallah," Akilah breathed out. 

Even though she had grown up around that scenery her whole life, it was always beautiful and breathtaking.