Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.
- Psalm 55 : 22

...

IT'S ABEENA. She's locked herself inside her room. Abeena's mother had said. I stand there just blinking at her mother, just processing those words. Why would Abeena do this? Abeena, who was always happy, who never shut herself out, who never let tough situations get to her, would never act like this.

"What happened aunt Zara?" I ask her mother as we rush up to her room.

"Her exam results weren't what she expected. She... she failed in biology."

I stop in my tracks for a second. Abeena... failed in biology? I think back to the day of the biology exam when Abeena had said that she performed the exam worse than the rest. Never in my life did I think she would fail. We reach the hallway outside her room where her sisters, Shahara and Faaziya are trying to talk her into opening the door, but with no luck. On seeing me, Shahara's eyes brighten.

"Rissa! Thank you so much for coming here. Abee's not opening the door. Please talk to her, I'm sure she will listen to you."

I assure them that she would be alright before stepping up to the door and knocking four times like I always do. "Bee? It's Rissa. Please open your door. I wanna talk."

After a minute of silence, the door opens, revealing a very dishevelled Abeena. Her bright sea-green eyes are bloodshot, her cheeks are puffy and stained with tears, and her shoulder-length dark black hair is all over her face.

"You," she says, coldly, "What are you doing here?"

I'm taken aback by the distaste in her voice. Abeena would never speak to me this way. Even if we get into an argument, she would try to converse calmly, but never once has she spoken with absolute disdain.

"I was worried Bee. You weren't picking up and..."

"Oh, cut it out. I'm not gonna believe all your lies anymore. You don't care one bit about me," she says, condescendingly.

"Abee, she's here because she cares..." Shahara begins to say but Abeena stops her.

"Don't defend her. Whose side are you on? Do you know that she scored the first grade not just in Westminster, but in all of Great Britain? That she got a perfect score in biology? I failed in the stupid subject that Little Miss Sunshine here taught me, while she got away with a perfect score!" Abeena yells, "Now, how do you think that is possible if she didn't purposely teach me the wrong thing?"

"What are you talking about? I would never do anything of that sort," I defend.

"Save me your explanations. Your grades are all over the internet. How else do you think I found out? The mayor, Alan's father tweeted that he was proud that the first rank of this year's state examinations was from Westminster. But who knows if he's mad at Al for not scoring that rank?"

"Abee, stop it. You're not making any sense. The grade she scored is an achievement for all the people in Westminster. You can't blame her for studying and working hard," Mrs. Mushraf says, crossing her arms.

"You don't know how hard it is for me Amma," she starts sobbing, "to have my best friend score the first grade in the state... while I'm reeling from failing biology... I'm a failure Amma... I'm nothing but a f-failure who has no p-purpose in life and..." Abeena breaks down, crying. All of us immediately rush to her side and I wrap my arms around her. For a long time, Abeena cries, while her sisters and mother utter words of comfort.

"Bee, don't ever speak that way," I tell her, gripping her shoulders, "You are not a failure. You may think you are one, that you have no purpose, but God created you with one. He has a reason for everything for every failure, for every success, for every smile on your face and tear you shed. You gotta believe that He has your whole life planned out for you. Just give it all to Him."

She nods before wiping her tears away. "I'm sorry Rissa. I didn't mean anything when I spoke those words, I was just speaking on an impulse." She turns to her mother and sisters, "I'm sorry Amma, Shara, Ziya. I was so angry, I didn't even know what I was doing."

"It's okay Abee," Faaziya says, "Just remember that we all love you, even if you failed in a subject."

"You're still the same to us sweetheart. Whatever be the defeat you face, we'll still be there," Aunt Zara says, smoothing down her daughter's hair.

"But still, I can't believe you failed. The Centre probably went crack correcting all those papers. You should apply for a re-evaluation," Shahara says, fuming.

"That's what I've been thinking too," Abeena adds, "But what if, even after applying for revaluation, I still don't pass?"

"Oh you will," I say, "God promised me a victory in every moment, today morning. I'm sure He meant it for everyone I know."

"Thanks, Rissa. That means so much to me," Abeena says, smiling.

"So, it's settled then. We are applying for a re-evaluation, you are passing in biology, and then, we throw a party," Shahara says, clapping her hands, and we all laugh.

"What's all this commotion about?" A deep, angry voice carries over from the staircase.

"Abba's home," Abeena whispers, "and he seems angry." Shahara stands up and extends a hand to Faaziya, "Let's go Ziya. We haven't started on any of the chores Abba gave us today. I have a feeling that he won't like it if he finds out." Abeena's sisters then walk off into their rooms. A minute later, her father, Salman Mushraf walks into appearance, looking very furious.

"What are you all lollygagging about? Don't you have any work to do?" He asks, annoyed. And then his eyes land on me. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Little Miss Perfect! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He sneers.

"She came to see me Abba-" Abeena says but is cut off by her father.

"I wasn't talking to you. I don't have anything to do with a failure," he yells. A gasp escapes my lips. My dad would never talk to me this way.

"Salman! You cannot talk to your daughter this way!" Aunt Zara shouts, only to be silenced by Mr. Mushraf.

"She isn't my daughter. My daughters come out victorious in everything they do. They don't move around with a fake Little Miss Perfect and their dysfunctional family and they especially don't fail in their activities," he says condescendingly. It takes me a moment to realise that I was the fake Little Miss Perfect he was talking about. But, why did he say my family was dysfunctional?

"First of all, I'm not fake or Little Miss Perfect. Secondly, how can you say my family is dysfunctional?" I defend.

"Oh please, your family acts like they're perfect and so well-knit, but I know that you are struggling to survive. Your dad just lost his job, didn't he?" He asks, yawning, acting bored.

"Abba stop it. You can't bring her family into this," Abeena says, earning a deathly glare from Mr. Mushraf.

"We don't act perfect because we know we aren't. And just because dad lost his job doesn't mean we're good for nothing. My mum and Aunt Lily are working so hard to make ends meet and dad is looking for a job as well," I try to say as calmly as possible as I don't want to lose my temper.

"Ah, the Aunt," Mr. Mushraf's eyes light up like he found a big secret, "Tell me, Nerissa, why is your aunt staying with you?"

"What kind of question is that? My aunt and Nathan have been staying with us ever since I was two. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't act oblivious child. Why is your father moving about with two woman in the house?" He sneers.

My blood begins to boil the moment I understand what he's implying. I don't even think. On an impulse, my hand flies across his face with a loud whack.

"Nerissa!" Aunt Zara and Abeena shout at the same time.

"Don't you dare talk about my family. You don't know anything about them. You don't know how much Aunt Lily suffered when she lost Uncle Brandon. You don't know how much my dad struggled to feed six mouths when mum convinced aunt Lily to move in with us. You don't know how hard it was for my mum to work at that time, especially with a four-month-old baby in the house, just so she could support dad to earn for the family. You have no clue how much Nathan battles with his own self over the loss of his father. Through it all, we stayed together, supported each other and we're surviving only because of God and the blessings He showered on us. You don't have the right to even utter a word about them!" I scream, blinking back tears.

"That's it. You don't get to stay in this house one more second. Get out." Mr. Mushraf orders as he rubs his now reddened cheeks.

"Salman, don't she probably didn't mean it-" Aunt Zara starts to say, but I turn back and run down the corridor. The tears flow out the moment I step out of the house.

"Rissa! Wait!" Abeena calls from the door, but I quickly pull the cycle out from where I parked it earlier, so that I could leave. "Rissa... stop," Abeena appears in front of me, "You slapped my father. How could you do that?"

"Abeena... please... don't chastise me any further. I, I know what I did was wrong... I'm s-sorry... but... d-did you listen to what he was saying?" I choke out.

"I did, Rissa, but, I know he didn't mean it either. You know how much he likes talking to you. He was angry that I failed and he was taking out his anger on you... I'm sorry, this is all my fault," she says, putting her head down.

"No, it isn't. Don't blame yourself for everything Bee, it isn't good," I tell her, wiping my tears away.

"Abeena! Get back up here this instant!" Her father appears at the door, "I don't want you to have anything to do with that girl or her oh, so perfectly fake family."

For the second time today, my anger gets the better of me. I turn around and glare at Abeena's father. "Speak one more word about my family and I will personally see to it that you get the punishment you deserve for reviling my family."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" He snickers.

Abeena stops me before I can reply. "Go home Rissa. Today's horrible as it is. I don't want you worsening it any further. Please leave."

"That's what I was going to do before you stopped me. Goodbye, Abeena."

I pull my cycle out of their driveway and leave, tears filling up my eyes again. How could he chide my family like this? What gave him the right to? What gave me the right to slap him? Why did I behave like that? Why did God let him speak this way? All these questions flooded my mind as I stop at my street and think. I can't go back home looking like this. They would know I'd been crying and I'd have to tell the reason why. I could try lying, but I'm a bad liar and they'd find out that I'm lying. I turn my cycle around and drive to the church instead. If I needed any answers, the church was where I would get them. For the second time today, I walk into our church, the marble white floor feeling cold beneath my feet. I don't sit in any of the pews. I walk straight to the altar and sit on the cold floor.

"Why...?" I whisper, turning my teary eyes towards heaven, but the lovely ceiling of our church is in my sight. The walls were painted last year by the church community. All the members, young and old participated in the event in helping to paint the church. The ceiling was now filled with various scenes from the Bible and their corresponding verses, courtesy of Naughty. No wonder she wanted to go to art school, her art was very beautiful.

"Gracie?" A small voice calls from behind me, "Is that you?"

I turn around to see Melanie and Taya, Brian's wife and daughter.

"Gracie!" Taya's face lights up, on seeing my face and she runs into my arms. "I missed you so much! How are you? Wait... are you crying?"

"What? No... ," I smile, wiping my face, "I was staring at the ceiling way too long that my eyes became watery. Why on earth would I cry, sweetie?"

She gives me a look to show that she doesn't believe me, but immediately moves on. "So, mommy took me outside to get me a new dress today to wear for my birthday next week. You'll come, right? There'll be cake." She blinks her big blue doe eyes with a cute expression.

"Oh, what do you think? That I won't be there? But I won't be there for cake, that is Nathan. Seriously, the boy lives for food. But, I'll be there for you," I say, grinning.

"Really? Yay!" Taya exclaims, "Did you hear mummy? Gracie said she'd come to my party!"

"That's great news darling! Why don't you go tell that to daddy while I talk to Gracie?" Melanie says, patting the head of her little daughter.

"Okay! Bye, Gracie!" Taya exclaims and proceeds to skip outside the church where I presume Brian is waiting.

"Are you okay, Rissa?" Melanie concernedly asks me, once Taya gets outside the church. I see Brian talking to one of the community members when Taya skips to him and pulls him by his hand, to get him to her height.

"Yeah... no... I don't know..." I mutter, looking at the swirling designs on the white floor.

Melanie sits down next to me. "Rissa? What happened, love?"

"I slapped someone older than me," I sigh, "I felt glad I did it then, but now, I feel awful... is that what Jesus would have done? No. He would have forgiven him. What did I do? I slapped him. I'm hopeless," I say, my eyes watering once again. Wow. I seem to be crying a lot today.

"Okay. Why'd you slap that person?" Melanie asks, calmly. I'm surprised she's still listening to me, after I told her I struck someone.

"He said some very bad things about Dad and Mum and aunt Lily. I couldn't just stand there, listening to him vituperate my family. I just lost it. If he insulted me, I would've done nothing. But say anything about my family... I don't know what overcame me, Melanie. I just slapped him. And now, I feel bad. Why'd I do that, when God tells me to forgive the people who condemn me?"

"Rissa, the Bible tells you to forgive the person who hurts you. But, Luke 17:3 says to rebuke the person who sins against you, and if they repent, forgive them. But that doesn't mean you should take revenge against your enemies. Revenge is the Lord's work. You have to forgive your enemies and love them. Surrender your qualms to the Lord, Rissa. He will take care. I know you acted on an impulse, that you couldn't bear when he chastised your parents, but now, why don't you give it to the Lord? He will sustain you," she says, smiling, "I'm not a preacher like Brian is. But I do know this, when I surrender my problems to Jesus, He helps me overcome them."

I wipe my tear-stained cheeks for the billionth time today. "Thank you Melanie. I really needed someone to comfort me and you landed at the right time."

"Oh, don't thank me. Thank Him. We just felt like visiting church after a day of shopping and now, it seems like God sent us here to help you," she says, getting up and holding out a hand to me, "Congratulations on the rank. You really deserve it for the hard work you put into it. Do you wanna join us outside?"

"Thank you and I do. But gimme a minute. I...," I look towards the altar.

"Okay, we'll wait outside for you," Melanie smiles at me before going out to join her husband and daughter. I turn towards the altar table, stand on my knees and close my eyes.

Jesus, I'm sorry I assaulted someone elder to me. I know I should respect my elders, but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing when he was insulting my family. Lord, please forgive me and help me forgive Abeena's father. He needs You, Jesus. So why don't you give him a call? Oh, and about my college choices... I have no clue about where to go, so I'm giving it all to you. I surrender everything to You, Jesus. I know You will guide me towards the right path. Thank You for sending Melanie and Taya down this way. In fact, thank You for everything You've done for me today and all the days I've ever lived. I love You. 

...

Author's note:

Hey guys! How are you?

How was this chapter? Did you like it? What was your most favourite part about it? What was your least favourite?

Do you like the new cover? A friend of mine commented that the cover was too dull. Also, it made no connection to the story, since the protagonist plays the guitar, not the violin, so I felt the need to change.

Oh, I keep forgetting to mention this in every chapter. Each chapter name is a name of a Gospel song that somehow has impacted me in my life. All of them are by Christian artists, so please do listen to them.

If you like the chapter, please vote and comment. Constructive criticism helps me grow and improve my writing, so I'll really appreciate it.

Thank you for reading!

Stay blessed,
Destiny Grace.