Sajdaa Taha

"Ridwan's awake."

That was all it took for my legs to move. Without even realizing it, my body was carrying my weight to the hospital room where my brother laid helpless on his bed. My mind tuned everything out, nothing mattered at that moment. The busy hospital became a buzz around me, irritating my thoughts even more.

I needed to see my brother.

Barging into the room, I was met with the backs of my parents. Their voices were in low murmurs, a deeper more raspy voice voice among them, and I knew it was Ridwan's voice. My eyes widened, was he really awake?

"Ridwan!" a voice exclaimed.

Hamza ran from my side and into Ridwan's bed, making my older brother chuckle. My parents moved out of the way, a tired smile forced its way onto my mother's lips, her eyes gleaming at the sight of her two boys. Hamza's arms wrapped around Ridwan's torso.

He winced. "Easy, buddy. I'm still broken on the inside."

"Sorry, it's just been so long," said Hamza as he took a step back. "You look like hell though."

"I just woke up, do you mind?"

"Nope," grinned Hamza.

I took a couple steps closer, listening to the boys banter a little bit. Ridwan seemed weaker than before. His cheeks were a pale tan, an unnatural color in our skin tones. His lips were dry, cracking as he talked. The bruises on his arms had started to heal, which made me even more grateful that he was still alive.

Ridwan's eyes met mine, his lips curling into a wider smile as he gestured for me to come closer. My chest felt constricted and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My steps wobbled as I tried to convince myself that he was okay. I could hear his voice call out to me and my mind refused to imagine a life without my older brother. 

"You're alive," I croaked. "You're really alive."

He smiled. "It would take a lot to get rid of me, little sister."

"Why did you do it?" I asked, tears finding their way into my eyes as I remembered that horrid night with Ethan. "Why didn't you let Malik call for backup?"

He averted his gaze down, his fingers laid limply on the bed, and slowly he gripped the blanket. "I had to, Sajdaa," he mumbled.

"No, you didn't!"

My mother's arms came around my shaking form. "Sweetheart, deep breaths," she whispered against my hijab. Her breath was warm. "Don't blame him, Sajdaa. He's awake now."

"You almost died, Ridwan," I said in a firm voice, watching as he cringed at my words.

"What did you expect me to do?" he snapped. "Do you have any idea what type of man Ethan is? He's dangerous and tricks people into submission. I went into that disgusting place with only one thing on my mind. My sister would make it out alive and get the information she needed."

"We could have had help."

"If I brought the cops with me, he would have never helped us. When dealing with dangerous people, you have to be careful with every decision," he stated. 

I stayed quiet, leaning against my mother for comfort. Her arms tightened around me and a dulling pain entered my chest. Ridwan noticed my disappointment and sighed, closing his eyes. 

"I wouldn't have taken the risk if I didn't know what I was doing," he said, cautiously like he was waiting for my outburst.

"I thought you were dead."

"I wasn't."

I inhaled a sharp breath. "I know, and I'm glad that Allah kept you alive."

That was all that needed to be said and the air around us became lighter. My father took a couple steps towards us, placing a hand on my shoulder. Hamza smiled as he sat on Ridwan's bed, gazing up at his older brother. 

We were a mess of a family, we were going through the unbearable, but we had each other. That was all we needed.

* * * *

"Malik!" exclaimed Ridwan as Malik casually strolled into the hospital room. "You look a lot older than the last time I saw you, with your purple eyebags and wrinkles."

Hamza stifled his laughter while my father rolled his eyes.

"Nice to know that you're back to your old self, my friend."

"We're friends, now? Wow, I fall asleep for a couple of weeks and I miss everything," joked Ridwan, a smirk playing on his lips.

Malik turned to my father. "Do all your kids have the same sense of humor?" he playfully questioned.

"Sadly," he sighed, exaggeratedly.

My mother softly laughed at her husband's response. My father turned to her with a warming smile from hearing her laugh and I inwardly sighed. It was awhile since my mother allowed herself  to enjoy the pleasure that life had to offer. 

Malik grinned, walking closer to Ridwan. He tucked his hands in his pockets, blowing his brown hair out of his face. My eyes caught the movement of his mouth as he chuckled at something Ridwan said. His hazel eyes sparkled and I never realized how much I loved gazing at them.

I mentally slapped myself. Really? Since when did I become such a sappy girl, I thought dryly. 

"So you guys catch the killer yet?" asked Ridwan.

Malik shook his head. "I wish we did."

"Stop wishing and start finding."

"It's not that easy," he nervously chuckled. "But Cole is examining the license plate and security footage. 

"Wait," I cut in, "there's security footage?"

Malik nodded.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, "And you forgot to tell me about it?"

"It slipped my mind," he shrugged. 

"That's so professional," I replied, sarcastically as I tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze. 

He smirked. "I try."

Malik was one of the only guys who could keep a conversation with me without missing the point. I could tease him all I wanted and he would still shoot back at me with a response. He could match my mind in a way that no other man could.

"I did come here to ask a favor."

All heads turned to Malik with questioning looks.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

What is he up to?

Malik's eyes landed on my form, his gaze softening at me. In the previous days, he had shown a different side to me. He wasn't the hateful man I met before, he was changing, and it was visible to everyone around him. He had sat beside me as I prayed with tears streaming down his cheeks. I had never seen Malik so vulnerable.

His face was stripped of all the emotions he tried to hide the day Mr. and Mrs. Hollen were pronounced dead. He laid his heart out to me, silently listening to the duaa (small prayer) I made for the both of us. 

Malik sinned, but he regretted them. His guilt was a constant knife that stabbed the back of his body. It was a burn mark on his skin and he knew it. 

"I want to teach Sajdaa how to use a gun," Malik announced in a clear voice. 

"Absolutely not," responded Dad. 

"Sir-"

"I don't want my daughter learning how to use a weapon as dangerous as that."

"I understand that, but it would serve in her best interest," Malik tried to reason. 

My father's eyes blazed with anger at the words he was hearing. The veins on his neck were prominent as blood pulsed through them in a sporadic way. Small lines etched onto his forehead, making him age ten years more. 

"Dad, wait," ordered Ridwan. "Hear him out. Officer Malik knows what he's doing."

"He wants to teach her how to use a gun!" exclaimed Dad. 

Mom stood up, grabbing her husband's arm. She was a stout woman, reaching only up to his shoulders, but she had an enormous influence over him. My mother had the ability of a hawk, sensing every bad decision before it was implemented. 

"She needs to learn," she spoke in her soothing voice that lured my father in one too many times. "Our daughter's life is at risk. Will you be able to deal with her death when the time comes?"

Dad turned his head away from her. "No."

"Then we have to trust this young man to teach her." She turned to Hamza and I. "Hamza will be there with her."

"Is that legal?" asked Hamza.

Malik pondered it. "Well, I can't teach Hamza to use a gun because he's a minor."

"Sajdaa is a minor too," argued Dad. 

"You're right, but due to the amount of deaths in the area and Sajdaa being the prime target, we have to take precautions. If the police is nowhere near her like at the Hollen's house then she's going to need a defense. I got her cleared by the department," he said.

"How in the world did you accomplish that?" questioned Hamza with wide eyes. 

"It took a couple hours and a six hour presentation."

"Forget I asked," Hamza muttered under his breath.

The room went silent for a moment. My mother looked at me with gentle eyes, urging me to put my input in the argument. She rubbed soothing circles on my father's back in order to calm him down. Hamza and Ridwan curiously glanced at me. 

Holding a weapon, with the intent to one day use it, scared me to no ends. A bullet would be fired at my control, my trigger. I could cause the end of someone's life because of it. Bullets pierced through the unbreakable, through the weak, and through the innocents. I would not be one to harm someone due to satisfaction and adrenaline.

But I wasn't going to let another person find that same pleasure and ruin lives. Perhaps, I was bulletproof in the eyes of many, but the serial killer's victims were not. They were vulnerable souls that had a lifetime to live for, they had loved ones to care for. Too much blood was spilled on these lands, too many lives were taken by a sharp hatred, and I was sick of wondering who would fall next. 

"Let's do this."

Assalamualaikum guys! 

This book used to be #79 in Humor ;-;

We gotta get our rank back.

Malik is growing up so fast *wipes tears* AND YES RIDWAN IS ALIVE. Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow!