CHAPTER-3
1132 Words
CHAPTER- 3 WHEN THE HEART KNEELS
Ayat Noor p.o.v
I pushed open the door, put off my shoes, and collapsed on the living room sofa. My back ached, my feet were screaming, and my brain was fried from college lectures.
“Finally home,” I muttered, throwing my bag aside.
A few seconds later, my younger brother, Rayyan, strolled in all relaxed and smug like he owned the place. He plopped down beside me, turned on the TV, and without even looking at me, said,
“Bring me a glass of water.”
I blinked at him. “Excuse me? Do I look like your maid?”
He smirked. “You’re already sitting closer to the kitchen.”
“Oh, wow! What logic! Should I also cook dinner since I’m closer to the stove?” I snapped, crossing my arms.
Before he could answer, Ammi’s voice floated in from the kitchen, “Ayat, it’s just a glass of water. Why make a big deal?”
I stared in disbelief. “Because he’s sitting right here doing nothing! Why is it always me?!”
Ammi came out, wiping her hands on her dupatta. “You are a girl. Behave yourself.”
I laughed bitterly. “girl the only one expected to do everything around here?”
“Enough, Ayat!” she warned, but I was already fuming. Years of unfairness boiled inside me . Rayyan never got scolded, never got blamed, while I couldn’t even breathe too loudly without being lectured.
Just then, Dad walked in, his face tightening as he saw the scene. “What’s happening here?”
Ammi immediately said, “Your daughter is shouting again.”
Before I could explain, his hand connected sharply across my cheek. The sting burned through my skin, and my eyes widened in shock.
“This is exactly why I was against sending you to school again,” he thundered. “Education has filled your head with arrogance!”
My throat tightened. I wanted to scream, to defend myself but all that came out was silence. My vision blurred as tears gathered, hot and angry.
“Go upstairs!” he ordered.
I turned away, swallowing hard, my eyes burning. Clutching my bag, I stormed up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. The moment I entered my room, I shut the door and pressed my trembling hand against my stinging cheek.
I sat on the bed, hugging my knees, tears slipping down my cheeks one after another. My cheek still burned from Dad slap. The room was dark except for the small lamp by my side.
A soft knock came at my door.
“Please go away, Grandma…” I croaked, wiping my face.
But the door creaked open anyway. I didn’t even have to look I knew it was her.
The moment I saw her gentle eyes, I broke. I stood up and ran into her arms, hugging her tightly. She smelled like rose water and peace everything my heart was starving for.
“Nani… they hate me,” I sobbed into her shoulder. “Even Ammi… she always takes Rayyan’s side. I’m not saying I want all their love, but can’t they give me enough to at least feel like their daughter?”
She stroked my hair softly, her old hands trembling a little. “Ayat, my child… love is not always shown the way we expect it. But don’t let this make your heart hard. You’re special, beta. Some hearts are tested more because they’re meant for greater strength.”
I sniffled, pulling away slightly. “Then why does it feel like even Allah subhana wa ta ala loves Rayyan more than me? Everything he wants, he gets. He doesn’t pray, he doesn’t even respect anyone… and still, he’s the favorite.” My voice cracked. “Does our lord love him more too?”
She smiled sadly, brushing away my tears. “Oh, silly girl… Allah subhana wa ta ala doesn’t compare His love the way humans do. His love is infinite for you, for Rayyan, for everyone. But sometimes, He brings storms to those He loves most, just to bring them closer to Him.”
Her words settled in my chest like a warm blanket.
“Beta,” she continued gently, “when everyone turns away from you, turn to the One who never will. Pray your Salah. Cry to Him. He listens when no one else does. And He will heal what others keep breaking.”
I looked down, my voice trembling. “I don’t even know what to say to Him anymore, Nani.”
She cupped my face. “Say what’s in your heart. That’s all prayer really is.”
I nodded slowly, tears still clinging to my lashes. When she left the room, I spread my prayer mat, facing the Qibla with shaky hands.
After finishing my prayer , my chest finally eased.
Maybe she was right. Maybe Allah wasn’t punishing me.
Maybe He was just calling me closer.
Third person p.o.v
When Shanaya opened her eyes, the pounding in her head was matched only by the cold metal biting into her ankle. Her heart raced as she tried to sit up, only to find a heavy chain locked around her leg.
Her breath hitched. The room was dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Concrete walls surrounded her, their surfaces cracked and damp.
A cell.
She crawled toward the metal bars, gripping them tightly as panic surged through her veins. “Hello?” she called out, her voice hoarse and trembling.
The faint sound of movement made her freeze.
She turned her head and saw them other women. Dozens of them, in cells just like hers, their faces etched with fear and despair. Some were lying down, motionless; others stared blankly at the floor, their eyes hollow.
“Help!” she screamed, yanking at the chain on her leg. “Somebody, please help me!”
The echo of her voice bounced off the walls, but no response came.
Her chest heaved as she looked around, searching for any sign of escape. Her trembling fingers traced the chain, desperate to find a weakness.
Footsteps.
They were faint at first, but they grew louder, closer, until she could hear the sharp click of boots against the concrete floor. Her eyes widened in terror, and she scrambled back, pressing herself against the wall.
A shadow appeared at the end of the corridor, stretching long and menacing under the flickering light.
“Who is it ? " she whispered to herself, clutching her knees to her chest. But calm was impossible. The shadow loomed closer, and she knew whoever was coming wasn’t there to help.
The sound of a key turning in a lock made her flinch.
- Writer
