[5] Causing trouble always comes easy

Chapter Five

"Rumaisa- the Women Circle head rejected my idea," Amal said, sinking into her seat.

"Why?" Sana asked, and Amal shrugged.

"Says that we can't bring politics into the mosque magazine. She said she supports it- but they have a strict non- political policy."

Sana nodded, Hussain glanced at Amal, folding his newspaper in half, "You don't have to write necessarily about politics to get your point across," he said and when Amal blinked at him, he sighed and went on, "You can write about the importance of Justice in Islam, and happen to give examples of injustice within our country..."

 Hussain broke off, smiling innocently at Amal who had straightened up in her seat. "That's perfect!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, and Sana raised a brow, eying her husband and her daughter as she shook her head with a smile.

As Amal finished with her breakfast, discussing passionately with her father of how she could somehow get the Shahid Raza case into the mosque magazine, Sana observed her daughter. When Amal was about to get up, Sana leaned forward in her seat. "Amal," she said, "You've been doing istikhara for the last couple of days, haven't you?"

Amal paused, slowly turning to meet her mother's gaze. Her expression grave, she nodded. "I didn't get any dreams though," she muttered.

"Dreams aren't a must when you do istikhara," Sana said, "Don't stop doing it though." There was a short pause before Sana spoke up again, "So- what did you decide? Will you meet him?"

Amal inhaled sharply, lowering her gaze. For a while, she seemed at loss for words, hundreds of thoughts clashing in her brain.

Amal for a while, felt doubtful... scared, even, but looking at her parents now- both of whom she trusted the most in the world, and more importantly- thinking back to her istikhara, she nodded.

"I'll meet him," she said with a nod. Anyways, it was just a meeting.

Decisions, you see- are scary. Even a decision that seems small holds the power to completely change your life. At times like these, what's important is that you stay true to yourself, take counsel of your family and friends, and then, trust Allah completely and fully.

~~~

"You can walk- it's literally just fifteen minutes away," Sana said, looking up from her book to meet Amal's gaze. Amal frowned, leaning forward in her seat.

"Mama, it's freezing outside. I'll be careful," she pleaded.

Sana looked doubtful. "I don't know, you can just ask Usman-"

"He'll never let me take his car! You know him, mama. Anyways, I'll tell him once I get back," Amal said, already getting up from her seat, "If he does wake up, please cover for me?"

Sana sighed, nodding, "Alright, alright. Take the car- but be careful, alright?"

"I will Insha'Allah," Amal called out as she hurried to her room to get her abaya and hijab.

When she got into Usman's car, Amal grinned sheepishly to herself. Usman was a bit of an obsessive freak when it came to his car, and well- Amal getting to drive it was a nice treat. Even though it was hardly a five minutes drive- Amal was glad that she wasn't walking.

Parking the car, Amal got her bag and hurried inside. Ever since she had proposed the idea of starting a 'masjid magazine', she had gotten quite busy with writing articles and such. The Women circle in the masjid left all of the writing parts to her- knowing that she had done her Bachelors in Journalism.

Now that the masjid was preparing a charity event, Rumaisa- the head of the Women Wing in the masjid, had requested her to cover it in the magazine. Since Amal was done with her graduation and had decided to take a gap year- she found herself consuming her time with such activities. It was productive- and Amal was glad that they had such an active masjid in town.

Quickly jotting down a few notes, Amal looked back at Rumaysa who was addressing the group of women in the meeting hall. "Remember our cause, girls. The charity derived from this will all go to refugee camps in Syria. We must do the best we can and InshaAllah it will be a success."

As the meeting was dismissed and everyone started to leave, Amal closed her notebook and gathered her pens, wanting to catch up to Rumaysa- when she heard a couple of girls talking in the back.

"What- really?"

"Disgusting, isn't it? She always pretended to be so innocent and pious- present in all the masjid events. Finally showed her true colors."

"Did her family agree though? I heard they dated for quite-"

Swallowing her disgust, Amal turned towards the group of girls- her mouth open as if to say something. Her gaze though, at once landed on one of the three girls who sat, huddled together.

Asma.

Asma was looking right back at her as if daring Amal to say something. In that moment of cowardice, the words that were on the tip of Amal's tongue died and she faltered. Turning around, a bit flustered- Amal grabbed her things and hurried away, mentally cursing herself.

Trying to ignore the voice in her head that was telling her how much of a coward she was, Amal jogged up to Rumaysa, muttering her salam. "I needed an overview of all of the stalls and such. Do you have it?"

"Yes, of course. I have it on my laptop, I'll email it to you once I get home," Rumaysa said, and Amal nodded.

"Jazakillah. Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

"Not at the moment. I'll text you if I need help with anything," Rumaysa smiled, and Amal nodded.

As she made her way back to the car, she tried not to think about what had just happened- but Asma's voice kept ringing in her ears and Amal tightened her fists, her brows furrowing together. Asma- it had been ages since the two had last talked, and at the moment, Amal could not help but be grateful because of that.

Inhaling slowly, she started reversing her car, unpleasant memories from the past playing in her head and as Amal tried to block these thoughts, she lost her focus while reversing and the next thing she heard was a dangerous screech. Amal froze- realizing that she had scratched the car that was parked next to hers.

"Oh no," Amal muttered under her breath, dread settling in the pit of her stomach as she sat for a minute in her seat- her eyes widening and her heart dropping.

"Ya, Allah, please save me," Amal whispered, mustering up the courage. Inhaling sharply, she slowly got out of the car.

Now, Amal was scared as it was but when she saw the scratch on the car, she suddenly felt weak. Leaning slightly against the car, she squeezed her eyes shut.

She was dead. Usman was going to kill her.

As she glanced at the scratch again, her eyes fell on the other car and a gasp escaped her lips when she noticed the hideous scratch on the black Ferrari.

Dead. Now, she was really dead.

Staring at the scratch, aghast, the first thought that crossed her mind was that she should get out of here. She had only just put her hand on the door handle when she turned back again- knowing well enough that it wouldn't be right for her to run away after causing harm to another person's car.

Biting her lip, Amal looked at both of the cars hopelessly. What was she to do now? She certainly did not want to wait for the owner of the black Ferrari to return. Scratching her head, flustered- Amal muttered all of the prayers she could remember.

What should I do- what should I-

An idea flashed in her mind and Amal turned back quickly. She'd write a note!

Quickly fishing out the sticky notes from the dashboard, she took out her pen and quickly wrote a short note:

I apologize for scratching your car!

It was a mistake.

I'll pay for any damages, call me:

In the end, she quickly scribbled down Usman's number. Nodding at the note, satisfied, Amal put her pen back in her hoodie pocket and walked over the black Ferrari, carefully leaning forward, she had just put the note on the windscreen of the car when a voice spoke up behind her.

"What are you doing?"

Assalamualaykum! 

I quite enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it too. Do let me know what you think, and don't forget to vote and comment!

Jazakillah :) 

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