With loves comes pain,
But with pain comes strength.
That was the only thing holding Ameera together.
Growing up, Ameera and her family weren't very religious. Sure she celebrated Eid, fasted during Ramadan, read the Quran once, but she didn't pray five times a day. She didn't wear a Hijab. She didn't wear clothes that hid her physique.
Maybe that's why Allah is punishing me.
Ameera was known to be the adventurous, sassy, intelligent girl. She wouldn't reject adventure. She loved the thrill of it. She was known for her bravery in school.
Her parents had moved to America before Ameera's older sister, Maham was born. She was born and raised here.
When she met Hashir at a family gathering, she thought he was very boring. He was quiet, calculating, and expressionless. Everything Ameera wasn't. Maybe opposites do attract.
If you had told her she would fall heads over heels for Hashir, she'd laugh her brains out. But slowly as time went by, she couldn't help but fall for him.
Hashir had always been a quiet person. Even as a child, he would keep to himself. Not that there was anything wrong with him or something, he just preferred to be alone. He thought that Ameera was nothing but obnoxious. They were as different as fire and water. But water helps calm the flames of fire. Over time she became his.
His Meeru.
"Mama, mai bilkool teek hoon," Ameera Rolf her mom over the phone.
(Mama, I'm absolutely fine)
"Lekin tum dohno humay milnay bi nahi athay. Allah janay kaha gum ho," Ameera's mother complained like a five year old.
(But you two never come to visit. God knows where you two have been)
"We are here, mama," she sighed.
"Dehko Ameera, it's been five months beta," her mother said softly over the phone.
(Look Ameera)
Ameera froze, "Mama, I just remembered I have to pray namaz, Khuda Hafiz," she didn't bother waiting for her mom to reply and ended the phone call. She put the phone down and let out a shaky breath.
(Pray; may god protect you)
Had it really been five months already?
Shaking her head, Ameera got up and started to pray. After prayer, she held her hands up and made dua. Her dua was the same everyday. By the end of her dua she would be in tears.
That's what life is I guess.
The beeping of the fire alarm could be heard in every corner of the house. The thick, gray smoke enveloped the kitchen.
Coughing, Ameera tried to take out the fire. "Ya Allah,"
(Oh god)
Out of no where, water flew on the fire near the stove.
"What the hell is this, Ameera?" The angry voice rang out.
"Of course it was him," Ameera bitterly thought to herself.
"What the hell does it look like, Hashir?" She sassed back. By the now, all the windows in the kitchen were open and the smoke had lessened. She also noticed that the fire alarm was no longer ringing.
"God, if I hadn't arrived on time, this whole house would've burnt down, and you along with it!" Hashir exclaimed.
"It wasn't my fault the dupatta was in the way,"
"Right, when is it ever your fault?" He taunted, his words holding a double meaning.
Ameera immediately recoiled back, his words burning her like acid. She wouldn't let the hurt show on her face. Not now, not ever.
She slowly walked towards him, barely leaving any space between them.
"Just for the record," she began softly, "I'd rather burn down with this house then live a life with you like this." She spat venomously, before turning around and leaving the kitchen.
Dinner was silent just like every other day in the house. Ameera didn't understand why they had to eat together when all he would do was ignore her. Her so called husband was on his phone texting and smiling, barely paying attention to the food laid out in front of him. When was the last time he smiled at me like that?
Ameera was playing around with the food on her plate.
"He's probably texting Rachel," the cruel voice in the back of her mind sneered.
Rachel was Hashirs personal secretary and was also one of the main reasons behind Ameera and Hashirs current relationship.
"You shouldn't play around with your food." Hashir said, in his gruff voice.
"And you shouldn't talk to someone if they aren't interested." Ameera sneered, smiling sweetly.
"Ya Allah, someone should ask you for lessons on comebacks," he muttered quietly.
Ameera just rolled her eyes at him, "Whatever, Hashir, go back to texting your girlfriend." She snapped.
It was Hashirs turn to roll his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know your mom was now known as my girlfriend." Ameera's mom and Hashir were best friends. Hashir had lost his mother at the age of five and had grown up with only a father and his two younger siblings. His father, of course showered his kids with love and affection. He did wish his wife was there to see their children's milestone, but Allah does what is best.
Ameera stood up from the dining table in a swift motion. "I'm so done with this, I'm leaving." She stated.
"Oh yah? And where will you go? Last time I checked, everyone thinks that where a happy couple that have no problems what so ever." He snarled.
Ameera paused, taking in his words. He was right. Everyone thought they had moved on from the incident but what appears on the outside isn't always reality.
Ameera was used to this now. Used to his taunting's. At first it hurt. It hurt so bad. But now, now she was used to it.
"I meant in the living room," Ameera said, her voice soft. Not mean or sassy. Just soft and quiet.
Ameera was flicking through the channels, looking for something interesting to watch. It seemed as if everything boring was playing on all the channels. There was a storm outside. It was raining heavily and thunder could be heard every now and then. Hashir came out of his study and took a seat near Ameera.
"Go back a channel." He demanded.
"No,"
"Ameera, don't be so difficult,"
"You know I don't like that show Hashir." She replied.
"I don't care, put it on."
Ameera decided to ignore him and continued scrolling through the channels.
"Do you have to be so difficult?" He asked.
"Oh, so I'm the difficult one, now?"
"Sometimes I wonder what made me think you were the right one for me." He muttered.
"Right, but Rachel is absolutely perfect for you, right?"
"Why do you have to bring her into everything?" Hashir asked, getting annoyed by his wife. Ameera decided not to reply. It's not like he would believe what she said anyways.
"I asked you a question, Ameera,"
"And I decided not to reply," she retorted.
"Ya Allah, what are you punishing me for?" He raised his head up and asked.
Ameera snorted at his question. Hashir knew exactly why he was being punished.
"Why'd you snort?" He asked.
"No reason," her tone was careless.
"Why do you keep doing this?" His voice bellowed. "Your so infuriating,"
Ameera stood up from the couch and matched his stance. "And your not?" She questioned.
"What's your problem, Ameera?"
"What's your problem, Hashir?"
"My problem is that I don't want this. I don't want this life. I don't want to live like this. And I certainly don't want you." Hashir stated in a angry tone.
"And why don't you want me?!" She screamed.
"Because you killed my child! If it weren't for you and your stupidity, my child would still be alive. But no, it's f*cking dead."
The house was once again silent. Hashir had never openly admitted this before. He always kept his emotions bottled up and after the incident, this was bound to happen.
"It was my child too. The miscarriage was not my fault. I would never purposely hurt my own blood." She croaked out.
"Yah," he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. It wasn't a miscarriage, Ameera. It was murder."
"You're right, it was." She voices out.
Hashir looked at his wife in surprise and confusion but before he could ask her what she meant, the doorbell rang.
Ameera quickly dried the tears she didn't know had fallen and headed to open the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door expecting to see someone.
But no one was in sight.
Ameera frowned and looked around to see if anyone was there, but there wasn't a soul in sight. Until she heard a coo. Ameera looked down and her eyes widened at the scene in front of her.
There, sitting in front of her was a baby wrapped in a blanket in a cardboard box, staring right into her eyes.
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Ok so there's a reason her name is Rachel:
This is for Rachel, you big fat, white nasty, smelling fat bitch
Why you took me off the motherfuking schedule
With your trifling dirty white racist ass big fat bitch
And maluma body ass bitch
Ok I'm done ð
She hasn't even been introduced and I already hate her
Anyways I know I said I wouldn't update but I got bored and figured you guys were also probably bored so I decided to update
ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE 3k reads!!!
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