Short Story – He came to me at his darkest hour.

He came to me at his darkest hour.

He walked into my apartment, in anger. He was furious. The creases on his forehead didn’t go unnoticable.

He started throwing everything that was in his way.

He never missed the glass vase.

He threw every almost every single thing from my tuppaware water bottle to my sneakers.

I watched him.. confused.

I got up from the couch.

I touched his shoulder. He flinched and moved back. I held his hand and brought him to the couch.

I had never seen my best friend so vulnerable before.

I watched as he took few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

I indicated that he should start.

But he didn’t.

I thought Muhammed would start ranting. But he was silent.

He put his head in his hands and looked at me with a pain striken face.

“Ismaael, I’m in a huge mess this time.” He ran his fingers through his already messed up light brown hair. “This time, there’s no turning back. I hurt my sisters. Badly. I think I abused them emotionally.”

I listened as he went on, running his fingers through his hair frequently.

I looked at my best friend Muhammed. His green eyes had lost it’s brilliance. Muhammed had been through so much…
He had lost his mum when he was a toddler. His dad married again and left them few weeks back. He had literally ran away.
Muhammed was distraught. He had two younger sisters to look after. It was too much.
And sometimes, it does get too much.

“I said she’s an idiot. She cried. So much Ismaeel. She hasn’t spoken to me since last night. I pushed her against the wall coz I can’t anymore. Misbah is only 16 and I have hurt her so much. How can I? Am I even regarded as a man. Everyone thinks having so much money is bliss. Everyone thinks having beauty is bliss. They have forgotten that having a closely connected family is bliss…”

I listened with attentive ears..maybe I was ungrateful for my family?

“Then Durrah. Durrah is 18 and she can handle herself. She scolded me for treating Misbah like rubbish. And she said some pretty nasty stuff to me. I don’t even care. And I screamed at her. I almost punched her but she stopped me. Durrah and I were so close. Or maybe we still are. But I hurted her with my words. Words hurt badly. And I couldn’t think… ”

“Wait Muhammed?” I asked confused.

“What?” He asked avoiding my gaze.

“Have you been hanging out with Nazeer and them?” I asked as calmly as I could.

Nazeer was the group of friends that I despised. They would take drugs. Everyone knee that. They were a bad influence. Muhammed never liked me to discuss them. I have told him so many times to stay away… but I don’t know.


“Muhammed. C’mon. Come with me.” I held my hand.

Muhammed looked at me with pleading eyes.

I ignored him and walked to my bedroom. I heard his footsteps. The silence was thick. I hated it.

We walked to my balcony in silence.

“Muhammed. Listen to me. You can’t do this. You should pick yourself up and do better things. What happened to the Muhammed I knew? You would look after your sisters so much. You loved them. And now? You can’t treat them like that. And your dad has left you. He has his loss. But you should umm maybe communicate with know my mum always says that family ties is very important and that you should be the better one. Muhammed..Nazeer and friends aren’t a good influence. You are 21 years. You are much better than that. You can get away from them. Leave the past where it is. Go forward. You are studying. Study. That’s better. What happened to your writing? You don’t blog any longer? Your writing was superb. I loved it even though I hardly read. There’s better things to do…”

I looked at my green eyed friends. He looked at me, slightly shocked. You see Muhammed was unreadable. But I’ve learnt to see through that.

He was speechless.

I guess I had to put my foot down.

“Yeah..” he whispered after a deafening silence.

I held his gaze to see anything..but his eyes held a different shine.

I wouldn’t know.

I comforted him with my words and by the end of that deep conversation, we went to pray Esha Salaah.

When Muhammed turned his head for his final salaam in his Salaah, he looked at me..and his eyes held a brilliance to it.

“I’m going to become better..” he whispered. “I’m going to pick myself up..” he looked at me sincerly.

“And I will be with you on your journey.” I comforted him.

“Thanks bro..” He said as he stood up to give me a bro hug kinda thing…

And in that moment..I prayed for my best friend.

I prayed that he treads his path with sincerity.

I prayed that he becomes better.

I prayef for my best friend.

I prayed for him…

A/N: My Instagram account has changed from missmuslimah9 to missmuslimah_9 .

Miss Muslimah.


Allah is with you always ♡

Miss Muslimah

Twitter: @missmuslimah9
Instagram: missmuslimah_9



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