Amira Sarker

My alarm started beeping. I groaned as I gazed at my clock. It was Fajr (dawn prayer). My eyes still felt drowsy, maybe five more minutes would be okay. My head fell back against my soft fluffy pillow.

I hugged the comforter closer to my body. As I felt sleep overwhelm me again a voice in my head wouldn't stop alerting me of prayer. I tried to ignore it and immediately felt the guilt creep up on me.

I jolted up. I was a Muslim. I was made to worship Allah. I mean, how was I better than a non-believer if I didn't pray my daily prayers? I could go to sleep right after.

I dragged my feet to the bathroom and made wudu (ablution), then brushed my teeth. After I was done, I yawned as I pulled a prayer mat out and wrapped a scarf around my head, and started my prayer.

* * * *

I decided to stay up because I couldn't fall asleep. The house was quiet, only soft snores were heard, small birds chirped outside. They sang their morning melodies, awaking the world around them. I looked out my window and saw the sun rising. The orange color filled me with warmth.

"Beautiful. Isn't it?" a voice said behind me.

I turned around and came face to face with Baba. His beard was getting some gray hair in it. It saddened me how as I got older so did he. Soon he would be gone, and away from me. Baba walked to stand next to me as he stared out through the clear glass.

"I always found it spectacular on how only Allah could make such perfect creations. We, humans, try to recreate them, but tell me truly. Do they ever equal to this beauty?" he asked looking at me with a soft gaze. "Do we ever appreciate life when it is beautiful?"

"I suppose not."

"Nothing is truly ugly in this world, Amira. Allah has made all his creations perfect. Always remember that," he said as he turned around, getting ready for work.

I looked back at the sun. He was right. Only Allah could create such perfect things, not even humans could recreate it. It reminded me of the words that she used to tell me so long ago.

From my father's light sniffles, I knew he was remembering his lost child again, his eldest, his once pride and joy. A void burned darkness through all of us, but we knew this was a time of tests. Allah gave those He loved the most difficult trials of faith, to test their limits, to see how far their faith in Him could go. Allah would never give His servants a task they couldn't handle.

This trial of mine was something I could handle as well. I just had to keep trying.

* * * *

Damon: I'm bored. Entertain me peasant.

My jaw fell. This boy was always full of surprises. First, he was cautious, almost fearful of me, then he insulted me, and now he was as carefree as every highschool senior. There were too many sides to Damon.

Me: Excuse u? How dare u call me a peasant?

Damon: I dared myself. Now entertain me.

Me: Forget u.

Damon: What the hell is wrong with u?

Me: Nothing?

Damon: Nevermind. Today my 13 year old bro challenged me to a soccer match. Guess who won.

Me: Ur bro XD

Damon: Do u really think a 13 year old could beat me? Come on sweetheart. Use that pretty little brain of urs.

My heart did a little flip. Darn the ways he makes me feel.

Me: -_- my brain is not little.

Damon: ;) suuure.

Me: How did things go with ur parents.

Damon: They made up as always. A toxic relationship in my opinion, but that's what love does to people. They easily come back.

Me: It sounds like u don't trust ur dad much :/

Damon: I have trust issues, I digress.

Me: I feel like there's more to the story than u let on.

Damon: Nice deductive reasoning. Good use of that brain ;)

Me: Shut up. R u going to tell me the rest?

Damon: Honestly, there's not much to the story. My dad has always gambled. It's never been too much money, but it gets to my mom sometimes, and it gets to me.

Me: Understandable. You feel helpless, don't you?

Damon: All the damn time. It fucking sucks. My brothers don't even understand any of this, but I do. I've lived through it far too long.

Me: I'm sorry. I'm sure it'll all get better soon.

Damon: I hope so.

Me: I know so. I have faith.

Damon: In God? No offense, but that's pretty bull.

I knew he wouldn't understand, but I wanted to share a special part of me with him, hoping it might ease some of his qualms about his family.

Me: In Islam, we believe that Allah tests those that He loves the most. All this is part of a bigger plan, one that benefits us in the end. Sometimes, you just gotta have some faith.

Damon: That's a dead concept to me.

Me: I'm not forcing u to believe what I do, but that's a thought that helps me when I'm down. Maybe it'll help you.

Damon: Even after all the times I disrespected u, ur still looking out for me. How r u and other Muslims the same?

I rolled my eyes. Repeating the same defense was getting tiring, but it seemed like my word shad fallen to blind eyes. Repetition might be his only cure at this point.

Me: U haven't met enough Muslims to really make a generalization like that.

Damon: Ur right. I haven't.

Me: *gasps* is the great Damon Winters surrendering his pride to little old me? What a historic event, ladies and gents!

Damon: I've been doing that a lot with u, kinda freaky.

Me: I wonder why.

Damon: Ur quite the special one, Amira. I mean it.

I smiled; feeling the warmth crawl up my cheeks till a prominent blush kissed the apples of my cheeks. He was so smooth, and I wondered if he even knew how he made me feel.

Even though I got the tingles and butterflies in my stomach, I couldn't help but feel a heavy weight on my chest. It was suffocating in a way. My heart felt heavy and tired like I had ran a marathon, emulating the sluggish nature of my body. What was this feeling?

Could this be an effect of desire for a bad thing? I felt absolute discomfort at the moment. Instantly, I wanted to get rid of the feeling.

I looked at my clock. It was Asr (afternoon prayer) time, so I got up to pray. As I stood for prayer, I noticed something I didn't notice before. The discomfort I felt before started to slowly leave. I felt some sort of a calm state flow over me. I focused on my prayer.

The beautiful verses that slipped from my mouth sunk into my heart as I thought of the meanings of the verses I recited. This was what people meant when they said focusing on prayer would relax one's soul. I finished up my prayer, and the discomfort slowly left my body.

"Amira! Tanwir! Come on and eat so we can go to the airport!" Mum yelled from downstairs.

Oh, right. My grandparents were supposed to be coming today.

* * * *

We were currently in the car, the only place where my father could confront us and we couldn't run away.

The airport was an hour drive from our place. Tanwir and Baba were in the front seat, and Mum and I were in the back as per usual. According to Mum, people in the front were more prone to serious damage during an accident than in the back. She wasn't wrong in that regard.

"Baba, if a Muslim does something wrong because it fulfills their desires, and after doing the deed they feel discomfort; why is that?" I asked.

"Do you know about the signs of Allah's love?"

"I might, but could you explain it just in case?" I said.

"Tanwir, I want you to listen as well," Baba said, sternly.

"I'm listening," Tanwir mumbled.

"Allah says in the Qur'an that there is nothing more beloved to Him than the acts that he made obligatory (fard), which is the things that a Muslim must do. For example, the hijab, the five daily prayers, the fasting in Ramadan, you know all that stuff. That's why Allah made them fard. Because he loves these acts and he punished us if we don't do it because he refuses for us to drift away from Him. That's how you stay close to Allah. By doing those act, we keep coming closer to Allah. A Muslim keeps doing all this until Allah begins to love him or her. Do you understand so far?"

I nodded my head.

"When Allah loves His servant He becomes the ears that you hear with, the sight which you see with, the hand that you touch with, and the legs that you walk with. Do you know what that means? It means that your ears only want to listen to good things. When you listen to something like pop music, then you feel discomfort. It is the same thing with the eyes, legs, and hands. When you do something that Allah disapproves with you feel discomfort. That's how you know that Allah loves you," he concluded.

I could only nod.

Does Allah love me? I thought as I leaned my head on Mum's shoulder. I gazed Tanwir, who had a distant look in his eyes, reflecting from Baba's words. I knew the words had touched him on the inside, and I felt proud. He really was trying to change.

Maybe I could too.

Assalamualaikum everyone!

Yes Mark and Aria are in a big dump for the moment. Any thoughts on the 'new' Mark? And what about Damon? Feel free to vote, comment and fan! Thanks!

P.S. Make duaa that I get a B in my Spanish class cause things aren't looking so good right now.