Your Imperfections

Chapter 1

And say to the believing men to lower their gaze and guard their modesty, and say to the believing women to lower their gaze and guard their modesty.

-Al-Quran

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I knew if I stepped out without a word to Mama, she'd constantly yell about how a young girl is not supposed to go out alone at this hour of the day.

But I am craving it. The urge to have a pleasant walk on the street is what I need the most right now, especially after the chitchat that took place over dinner. Although I am very much used to these accustoms; decisions about my life being made without even bothering to ask me, or just randomly giving my hand in marriage to some dude who would probably be in love some other woman.

This thought makes me want to tear whatever comes in my from limb to limp until they are all but a mass of broke flesh and blood.

Isn't it really about just being rebellious? Aren't all teenagers like this every other day? Don't they all casually do drugs or smoke cigarettes because it's considered cool by the society?

I shook my head to empty the uninvited thoughts, and neatly wrapped my headscarf around my head. This wasn't enough. I still felt exposed, naked, vulnerable, even though my clothes covered me wholly and loose around me. A shawl can always fix that up.

I looked terrible in my Nike shoes, gray sweatpants, dress that reached below my knees but now I just didn't care anymore. People would judge me no matter how I do; what I do.

Careful not to make any noise, I locked the door behind me at a snails pace. As I breathed, puffs of smoke formed in the air, confirming how cold it was, and why wouldn't it be?

It was 1 in the morning , on a winter night.

I began my walk on the pavement, observing the silent houses adjacent to me and the pitch black darkness that was before me and which I blackened even more with my darkness as I strode forward. I have this amazing talent of leaving darkness and sadness in my wake. According to my family, I am a living form of anxiety and stress. For others as well as myself.

It felt good to be free, or have a feeling to be free. Back home it felt like my own bedroom walls were closing in on me, suffocating me, but right here I could open my arms wide and welcome the icy bite of cold on my flesh.

My temporary calmness, however, was short lived when I saw a wild, huge, fat furry cat hissing at me with his body stretched backwards and front two legs stretched forward. It gazed straight at me with those creepy eyes. Yep. I don't like cats. If you already couldn't tell.

I knew that position. It was about to attack me even though my innocent mind didn't have a reason why it would suddenly turn on me.

"Okay. . . buddy. I'm outta here."

And then I sprinted across my opposite direction

The breath was knocked out of me, as I collided with something. A car. The pain that coursed through me was excruciating, my head suddenly feeling heavier and my body going limp.

"OH MY GODD!" I heard people—no, only boys yelling, followed by the slamming of car doors and heavy footsteps. The dazzling light coming from the headlights caused my eyes to squint, making everything worse than ever. Even though I was in an accident, bleeding, suffering, all I was thinking that I don't want any of these boys near me.

"ARE YOU INSANE? WE CAN'T JUST LEAVE HER HERE AND GO! GOD, SHE IS BLEEDING," one of them yelled.

Bleeding? Huh. . . I didn't feel that worse.

The yelling and shouting just continued for a solid 5 minute.

I could hear everything clearly, meaning my condition wasn't so bad, but then again, my body said a whole different story.

'Someone would find her.'

'No, we can't take her to the hospital'

'What if we were arrested!'

"If you don't plan on—on helping me, then just get lost, pricks!" I shouted, trying to get up, simultaneously fixing my headscarf. I failed horribly, and fell on my back with a loud 'hiss'.

Various feet surrounded me. There had to be more than four boys. God, this was so not going to end well. I gave a silent prayer, and raised my head.

The one to my left—wait, I know him! He is my cousin, Hadi. When he sees it is the one and only Aaleyah Shehroz, his eyes widen in fear. Yeah. . . my cousins are scared of me, because of the three over-protective brothers I have. He looks up to the heavens, and blows out a huge, dramatic sigh, which clearly doesn't fit the situation.

"Of course, it had to be you. God, are you alright, do you need help? You definitely do." He offers me a hand. I glare at him in the deadliest way possible.

"Don't touch me," I warn.

The night makes it difficult to focus on anything, but that 'scoff', that annoying scoff didn't escape my notice. I looked to Hadi's right and shot daggers at the boy, who was covered in black from head to toe, clearly lifeless, and having no taste in fashion. He help my gaze with as much hatred as I looked up at him with. He seemed one of those guys whom you just hated from the very beginning.

And end up with, my subconscious mocked. I shut her out.

"Is this that brat you were talking about?"

Um. . . are my ears ringing? He has an Australian accent?! WHAT!

There's the thing about me; I love Australian accent. It is even better than British accent. But hearing from him makes me want to puke.

"Get away from me! All of you," I yelled, wincing as my own voice was like needles stabbing my head.

"Er, guys, what if she complains to the police," one of the other boys speaks up. "Adian was driving way too fast."

"She wasn't looking where she was going, I mean, do you normally run out on roads without even bothering to see if there's a car coming?"

My head snapped up. So, the Australian accent guy is Adian, and who hit me. Great. This just keeps on getting interesting. And, for the record, I am still on the road, bleeding!

"Will you just get lost?" I glared at Adian, who had the audacity to roll his eyes. "I'll manage on my own.

Hadi looked unsure. He looked off at my house, and muttered incoherent words. "Her brothers are really gonna kill us, man."

"If, they find it out it was you guys." I planted a hand on the bonnet of the car, applied as much force as possible, and with one arm around my waist, stood up. My head spun for a few seconds, but then I could focus on everyone.

Starting from the two boys who looked almost identical, with their scared eyes gazing at me, and the horrified expression marring their faces. Both of them wore almost the same clothes; traditional Pakistani kurtas with jeans, an outfit I would ban if I were to be the next President. That would probably be the first law I'd ever pass.

Above their heads, I watch the interior of my house glowing—meaning someone was probably awake, or maybe they'd found me missing. Dear Lord! This is so not going to be alright.

"Listen, someone is awake. Go." None of them—except that prick Adian made a move to leave. That made me want to punch him in the stomach. I raised eyebrows at them. "What? Are you all deaf? I said leave. Now."

Why am I caring for them so much? I shouldn't care if my brothers, or worse, if my Dad finds out about them, he'd probably go furious. Without any further comments, I dragged my limp, badly aching body across the road and towards my house.

I don't know why, but I glance back. Once.

Adian catches my eyes, but I quickly look away, and walk inside.

And there stands Mother. It takes seconds for her mad eyes to soften, and tears to well up in her eyes to see my condition.

What am I going to tell her!?