Sajdaa Taha

I felt my shoulders shake. "Sajdaa, wake up," a small voice whispered.

I groaned and pushed Hamza's hands away.

"Sajdaa," he pressed. "Come on."

I opened my eyes groggily. I came face to face with the disheveled appearance of my little brother. His black hair was sticking up all over the place. There were dark bags under his eyes. His lips were pressed in a thin line. I knew Hamza was stressed beyond belief. I mean, our uncle was dead and our eldest brother was currently on a hospital bed trying to live. That's a lot to take in for a little kid.

I slowly sat up. Hamza was sitting on the opposite end of the hospital couch. My neck felt cramped. Guess hospital couches weren't meant for good sleep, I dryly thought. I looked around the room.

Mom was sitting on a chair, resting her head on the bed Ridwan laid on. Her hands tightly grasped my brother's hand even in her sleep. On the other hand, Dad was sleeping on a chair against the wall. It was in front of Ridwan's bed. I cringed as I imagined how much their joints would ache when they woke up.

"What time is it?" I asked Hamza in a hushed whisper.

The sky outside was still dark. Even the animals seemed to have been sleeping. Only the soft typing of computers could be heard from the halls. In other rooms, people silently wept for their loved ones, hoping that a miracle would come. The harsh reality of life definitely hit hard.

"Around four in the morning," he shrugged.

I only nodded as I stood up. I quietly walked towards the edge of Ridwan's bed, hearing his slow breaths. His chest rose as he inhaled the oxygen from the mask. Then it fell back down. Ridwan's usually golden tanned face was very pale. It was as if all the color was drained from his face. There were cuts across his face. My heart lurched from thinking about the pain he endured. The white hospital gown didn't suit him.

He should be throwing his head back laughing at my sarcasm. He should be playing football with Hamza and leading prayer as we all prayed behind him. He should be out there, enjoying his life, yet he wasn't.

Normal kids didn't have to deal with a serial killer. Normal kids didn't have to wait by a hospital bed and dying of guilt on the inside. I wasn't normal. I was always different and I had accepted that long ago, but just this once, I wanted to believe I was normal. I wanted to feel normal again.

My brother was my rock. He was always strong. It didn't matter what happened, my brother would always hold his strength. He never showed weakness even if the world was weeping around him. He was our support. His trust in Allah always inspired me. It was the reason for his bravery. I smiled at the thought.

"Our older brother was great," I murmured softly into the silence.

I felt Hamza's fingers slip into my hands. I grasped onto it tightly, scared of letting go. Hamza's eyes scanned over Ridwan's face. He squeezed them shut as if willing his tears to stay down. His breathing was shaky as he let out a breath, leaning against me.

"Our brother is great, Sajdaa. He's not gone yet."

I turned to Hamza, surprised.

He gave me a tight smile, "Sabr (patience), remember? Good things come to those who have patience."

He was right. It was only a week ago when Ridwan and I told Hamza about the importance of patience. Who would have thought that the small Islamic lesson we told him would be so relevant right now? Allah really did work His miracles when we least expected it.

Patience was hard. It seemed so easy to just tell people how to be patient with the obstacles life throws at us, but it was a whole other story when we actually felt it come into effect.

I wanted to scream in frustration. I wanted to beg the doctors to do something to save my brother's life and not leave him like this. My tears wanted to come out, letting everything go.

I felt weak.

I was tired of all these emotions that seemed to destroy me on the inside. Everything was happening so fast. I couldn't handle all this stress, yet as I looked at my parent's broken faces and gleam of hope in Hamza's eyes, I knew that I couldn't just surrender to the darkness inside me. I couldn't give up when my family needed me the most.

My family and I had gone through so much together. We weren't bonded together just by blood. We were bonded through our beliefs and faith in our Creator. It sounded so cliche, but it was true. Through every difficulty, we were patient. We did everything we could and left the rest to Allah because surely, Allah's plans were greater than ours.

Right now, everything seemed like a disaster and a bunch of heartaches, but in the future we might look back and think how foolish we were to believe that we would never overcome this difficulty.

"I'm proud of you, little bro," I softly said. "You're growing to be an amazing Muslim."

He nudged his shoulder against my own, "I learn from the best."

As we held onto each other, we both knew that we would be okay. Our family would be okay In Shaa Allah (if God wills it).

* * * *

"So you're telling me that a serial killer is after you?" asked Hamza, shocked.

I nodded my head, tiredly.

"How in the world did you manage to accomplish that?"

I sighed, "Hamza, this isn't rocket science."

"I know that but-"

Knock Knock.

Dad gave me a questioning look, wondering if I invited someone.

"Don't look at me," I said while raising my hands in surrender.

Dad got up to open the door to the hospital room. Ridwan still laid motionless on the bed, and Mom was still sitting besides his bed. When we all woke up and prayed, I decided to fill Hamza in on the recent events. Safe to say, he was confused that our somewhat normal life turned into one of his TV shows.

"Officers," greeted Dad. "Come in," he moved aside to let Malik and a familiar blonde headed man in.

"Where's Officer Cole to complete your trio?" I asked, amused to only see Nathan and Malik.

Malik rolled his eyes at my tone. "He's busy interrogating Ethan instead of tormenting you," he said.

"What a shame. I was looking forward to the offensive comments."

Officer Nathan scrunched his eyebrows at me. "You're weird," he stated.

"You'll get used to her comments," sighed Malik.

"So," Dad interrupted, "why are you Officers here instead of at the police department?"

"We've come to deliver some findings on your brother-in-law's murder case and the notes that Sajdaa has been receiving," said Officer Nathan in a formal tone. "We sent a team of officers to check out the coordinates Ethan gave us. We believe that Ethan was an accomplice to the murders, but not the actual killer because his footprints don't match."

"I highly doubt Ethan is an accomplice," said Hamza.

We all turned to look at him.

"What?" I asked.

Hamza shrugged, "This guy's been living here for years. Why choose now to help kill? There has to be a motive. Did you check anything the victims have in common? Are they all minorities?"

Nathan looked through the folder in his hand. "Not all minorities except two," he said distractedly.

I nodded, "Dylan was white."

Hamza pondered this for a while. "Clearly all Muslims does not count either," he muttered. "Maybe Ethan sold something to the killer."

"I was thinking about that last night, but that'd still make him an accomplice," said Malik.

Hamza shook his head. "Not really. Ethan is a drug dealer. You said victims were poisoned right?"

Officer Nathan nodded.

"Ethan probably sold the drug to someone," I finished Hamza's thought for him.

The two officers pondered this for a while. Malik leaned over to whisper something in Officer Nathan's ear. Nathan nodded at him and pointed something out inside the folder.

Dad looked between Hamza and I. "How did you figure that out?" he asked Hamza.

"I read a lot of murder books."

"Of course you do," mumbled Dad as he walked towards Mom.

Officer Nathan excused himself as he left the room to make a phone call. Dad was comforting Mom as she stroked Ridwan's hair. Grief was etched across her face as my father held her in his arms. Mom has been through so much. She didn't deserve any of this. All that was on her mind was he beloved son.

Malik's gaze immediately went to me. "You alright?" he asked.

I snorted, "Totally. It's not like I'm hoping that my brother isn't dead."

He cringed, "Bad question. Sorry."

"It's okay," I sighed. "You aren't really good at these situations."

"Clearly," scoffed Hamza.

Malik gave him a sideways glance. "You and your sister have a lot in common, kid."

"You mean our incredible sense of sarcasm and wit?"

"Hamza," I hissed.

He shrugged, "I'm just saying."

Dad sent him a pointed look. "Hamza, this officer is trying to help your sister. Stop giving him attitude."

Malik went quiet, but he kept his eyes on me. His hazel eyes were trying to read my emotions. His posture was stiff. I knew Malik had an unspeakable past, but I wondered. Could Malik be hiding anything under his caring attitude? I noticed Hamza and Dad were with Mom. They weren't paying attention to Malik and I.

Without realizing it, Malik walked closer to me. His voice was low as he said, "I'm proud of what you did the other day, Sajdaa."

I kept my gaze on the ground. "I know."

"So don't feel guilty about Ridwan. I know you're killing yourself over what happened," he whispered.

I sighed, "I did this to him."

Malik shook his head, "You helped us get closer to finding the killer. Don't let your brother's sacrifice go to waste."

Before I could say more, Officer Nathan came back into the room with a wide grin. "Well, I have great news."

We all looked at him, eagerly.

"Cole got a confession out of Ethan."

Assalamualaikum everyone!

No clue how well I'm writing this so cut me some slack if it sucks. By the way, my friend has started a spiritual book. A lot of strong language used so read at your own risk.

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