Chapter 10

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We all headed to the mosque, where ghusl was done to her body. And her body was placed into the coffin. It was hard, extremely hard to witness this. She's gone, she's never coming back. Never.

And I have to go to live with that. Alhamdulillah I was there for her near her death but not actually when she died. Oh how I missed her.

In sha Allah I will meet her in heaven after the test of this world. In sha Allah

A pair of arms wrapped around me tightly and my name was being said by someone. I look up to see Shazia Baji. Tears staining her checks her eyes puffed and red, her lips repeating soothing condolences. I gripped onto her like she was an anchor, like she was the only support I could get to stop myself from drowning. My breathing started to get shallower. O my days! What the hell am I doing? The day my mum is going to her permanent home, I am going to sign my nikah papers and start living like she never existed. I could barely breathe at this point, it was all too much. My vision blurred and I let my body drop to the floor. Maybe it was for the best if I go now, at least I won't be deceiving my mother like this.

As my head hit the floor, a tear slipped out of her eye and slid down her cheek onto her neck. And that was when it all went dark.

I was partially awake now, I was hearing shouting and screaming. I tried to force my eyes to open but my body reacted in the opposite way. It started to shut down. The last thing I heard was:

"Why the hell isn't she getting up? I need my mon-" Silence. I fell into silence again. I gave into the silence and the dark again. Maybe in this silence and darkness I would find my peace.

Maybe. Maybe not.

My body jolted and I woke up. Again, some shouting but this time a different voice. "WHY AREN'T YOU DOING ANYTHING? SHE CAN'T DIE. DON'T LET HER DIE. Please." The helplessness obvious in his voice as he pleaded. Who could care about me like that last time I checked I had no one like that, they wouldn't care about any difficulties I faced or might face. No one cares except Allah, who loves me more than 40/70 mothers. And my mum.

Who's dead...

Wait.

"Ammi!" I screamed. My aunt was by side, my siblings looking at me in confusion and Ismail sat there, on the floor, with tears in his eyes. It couldn't have been him, could it? Nah, it might have just been my imagination. Wanting someone who will care about me like that. But I doubt I'll get it.

"Where's ammi? My ammi? Where is she?" I questioned frantically.

"She's been buried. We've completed the janazah when you passed out, as it was not ideal for us to be stalling." My brother bluntly replied.

"How long have I been in hospital?" I ask looking around.

"2 weeks." comes the reply.

"She's been in her grave for 2 weeks and I haven't read anything for her. I haven't made any dua for her. What must she be thinking?" I cried.

"It's ok meri jaan. You, yourself haven't been well. You've been wavering in and out of consciousness for 2 weeks. You need to keep faith in Allah. You can't give up this easily. I know you were attached to your mother. But this was not the way. You can't neglect yourself, especially now you are going to be someone's wife. You need to be able to take care of yourself and your hus-"

My auntie was cut off by Ismail. "Actually I am perfectly fine to take care of myself and the relationship of a husband and wife goes two ways. I can and will take care of her. Obviously after our nikah."

"You've bagged yourself a diamond, haven't you Ayla?" My sister says bitterly.

"What's your problem? I get one piece of happiness after all this and you've just got to rain on it like always, haven't you?" I retorted sourly. "Anyways why are you so hooked up on my marriage what happened to the rishta that you left your ILL MOTHER FOR? Huh? Tell me!"

Her eyes immediately teared up and she ran out the room. I was sick of her and crocodile tears she was always pissing me off. I had missed my mother's funeral and here she was spitting her poisonous words, really?

"You shouldn't have spoken so harshly to her Ayla." My aunt says softly.

"Why? And does it look like I care about her right now? I myself am in hospital for God knows what reason and I missed my mum's funeral."

"First of all, she is YOUR older sister. And the fact that you've rubbed salt in her wounds isn't funny. The guy she married abused her, physically and when he had enough of her, he left her on my doorstep with divorce papers in her hand. And the nurses are saying that the shock of losing your mother has affected you so badly that your body just shut down."

I took a minute to take in what she had just said. "First of all, I know but that relation died as soon as my mum died I don't consider her my sister nor you my aunt. And don't you think it isn't funny that my mum had to go through all this bullshit alone. It wasn't funny when these lot said that they didn't care if she lived or not. It wasn't funny when my mum was on her death bed and no one child hers came to visit her. It wasn't funny when all YOU lot came to show fake tears at the funeral. So no, I could not give a crap about her or her failed marriage when my mother was struggling alone with no one by her side."

The room went quiet. Pin-drop silence. Their probably realising their mistakes but I doubt it. "Leave." I say sternly as I lean myself back onto the bed and turn my back to them all. I hear shuffling and the door closing.

"Ayla" a gruff voice calls out.

******

Who do you think was speaking?

Did you think Ayla was too harsh on everyone?

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