View Full Version : Post Your Stories!
05-29-2006, 05:09 AM
Made this thread coz i'm really fond of Stories.
Ok guys, can you plz just post stories that you've written yourselves or stories written by your friends. I advise that you compile one story n post it in a single post.
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05-30-2006, 04:21 AM
cum on guys plz post ur stories.
05-30-2006, 09:54 AM
He stared at her, his hazel eyes shimmered with excitement; they were framed with dark long lashes. When looking at his eyes it was as though staring into a world of sheer perfection, so pure from seeing corruption, so fragile. His soft lips suddenly curled into a smile exposing his white teeth. He was so beautiful, a perfect creature that walked on this earth. “So is that a yes?” came his voice.
“I’m sorry Suleiman but I’m not ready,” replied Mumtaz. Suleiman quickly stood up and attempted to walk out of where both of them sat. He knew exactly why she had refused him, just like the other 10 girls he had proposed to. Tears formed around his eyes, as the tears drizzled down his delicate cheeks it left a burning sensation. Suleiman did not hurry to wipe the tears. “O my lord, you’re my creator and I place my trust in you,” he sobbed. He lingered back home, his rough hands guiding him to safety.
As he drew closer to the house, he rummaged through his pocket to find his keys. With each key he felt the carvings to distinguish the house keys from the other keys he owned. Finally, after what seemed like centuries, he found the key and with a trembling hand he attempted to open the large mahogany front door.
The door creaked gently; Suleiman was greeted by the soft smell of pie, his nostrils flared. As he slumbered into the house his mother knew exactly what had happened. His broken smile told 1000 stories. “Suleiman you have a guest,” murmured his mother softly.
“What is it about?” sighed Suleiman.
“A wedding proposal,” smiled his mother.
Suleiman could not believe how events turned out. However, he did not smile nor was he hopeful about the outcome of the situation. He sauntered into the living room and seated himself on one of the empty sofa’s that scattered the living room. “I do not take joy in being rejected endlessly for being blind so if you think you can’t handle it, Then don’t waste my time or yours,” Suleiman uttered, his teeth gritted together. His harsh and abrupt words shocked his mother and she found herself blushing.
“I’m aware of your blindness and I can handle it,” came a woman’s voice. There was a slight tremor in her voice, it wasn’t a tremor caused by fear but happiness, Happiness that Suleiman yearned to know where it came from. Suleiman relaxed on the sofa for once, his lean muscular body seemed to melt in the leather couch. His beautifully sculptured face was a sight to be mesmerized at. His eyes were a blessing but everyone else saw it as a burden.
I don't tend to write short stories but there is a starter for everyone.
Cool thread by the way.
05-30-2006, 10:21 AM
Jazakallah for posting.Reply
By the way that was really nice, Why dont you continue it. I'm sure it will be a real success.
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05-30-2006, 01:38 PM
:sl: i wrote a short story for the islamic foundation short story comp...the rule is that the story must be unpublished and completely unique....so if i dont get anywhere with it...i'll post it up here Insha'Allah :sister: and in the meantime i'll write something else for this thread. :) :w:Reply
05-30-2006, 03:34 PM
Asalamalaikum everyone Reply
am a new mwmber nt sure hw to wrk the forum properly
great thread and a lovely strory by the sister
05-30-2006, 10:03 PM
nice story keep up good work
05-30-2006, 10:05 PM
I’m sorry Suleiman but I’m not ready,” replied Mumtaz. Suleiman quickly stood up and attempted to walk out of where both of them sat. He knew exactly why she had refused him, just like the other 10 girls he had proposed to. Tears formed around his eyes, as the tears drizzled down his delicate cheeks it left a burning sensation. Suleiman did not hurry to wipe the tears. “O my lord, you’re my creator and I place my trust in you,” he sobbed. He lingered back home, his rough hands guiding him to safety.
omygod i so do not like sobbing men :'(
05-31-2006, 01:23 PM
Originally Posted by Nawal89
Good job he is a fictional character then innit sister :p
Thank you brother Alja but i can't continue the story, the plot has been given away, its no fun writing it anymore. Perhaps when i have enough free time i'll write something more interesting and closer to reality....
05-31-2006, 01:32 PM
Sis Silver Pearl those descriptions you put for the man was like.....uh...WOW lol :p besides those the story is pretty good though :DReply
05-31-2006, 01:47 PM
Well y'all can get mine in the general chat section:D.Reply
06-01-2006, 06:00 AM
Originally Posted by dreamer
Hope dat u'll post ur story soon insha'allah.
06-01-2006, 06:01 AM
Originally Posted by Umm_Shaheed
By the way, yours were really gud one.
06-02-2006, 12:41 PM
JazakAllah khayr akhee.Reply
06-04-2006, 12:13 PM
By the way that was really nice, Why dont you continue it. I'm sure it will be a real success.
Thank you brother but that story had no substance...
I had an idea for a story for a long time but never bothered...perhaps now i'll take the time to write...
“Look what you have done!” shrieked David.
“Don’t turn this on me you son of!” I yelled.
“Yeah go on, dish out swear words, you bloody well will regret this!” continued David.
“Man we don’t have time to argue, the cops are going to be all over us in minutes,” said Zak in his husky voice.
I stared at the figure that lay on the dirty pavement, his body seemed almost disfigured. Blood oozed from his left side of his stomach, he cried in sheer agony as he tried to pull out the silver knife from his side. I tried to move but my leg refused to carry my weight.
My temples started to throb uncontrollably; I feared the worst headache coming on. I stabbed him, and if he dies I will be a murder, cold blooded murderer. Will they lock me up and throw away the keys?
I asked myself. Abruptly Zak grabbed my arm and dragged me; I tumbled over his muscular body. My eyes were still fixed on the bleeding guy that lay screaming on the isolated street as I tumbled away.
I eventually regained my senses; I could finally feel my legs. I looked at my 5 friends, fear, confusion and worry played on their faces. “Damn it! Run!”
We all broke into a sprint, our legs taking us away from the scene of the crime. We all left the man to bleed to death. I shall forget him tomorrow….I have a black heart and that is it
, I reassured my self. All would be fine
06-05-2006, 04:00 AM
Jazakallah for posting, by the way seems that dis would be a really nice story. Hope dat u'll post the nxt chapter soon.Reply
'Zak' lol :D
06-05-2006, 07:59 PM
My temples throbbed violently; each breath I took seemed to deprive me from oxygen. My heart beat engulfed my heart and I was left feeling suffocated. Excess blood rushed through my body; I wondered whether my blood cells were retaliating against me. Everything seemed to be going against me, even my own body.
We continued running, our footsteps echoed in the silent night. The velvet sky hovered above us as though they were witness to our crime.
“Hold up!” said Michael.
“What?!” barked Zak.
“You wearing gloves right ash?” questioned Michael.
“Well what do these look like to you?” I muttered.
“So….” Said Michael, an expression of calculation was fixed on his pale face.
“That means all we need to do is burn the gloves,” smirked Adam.
“That is the only possible evidence they can obtain,” agreed David.
“Dang homie, when did you start reading the dictionary, ‘obtain’? What next? Deoxyribonucleic acid?! ” joked Michael.
“Oh hush it!” snapped David.
“We were at Buzz’d, raving all night, now you all better keep your cool! It ain’t as though we have never done ****. One word and we all tumble down, you hear?!” hissed Adam. His dark brown eyes were narrowed, fear lingered in them, and this was something I had never seen in him before.
“We are cool,” I replied, my voice seemed to tremble in the still night.
“Alright, lets stay calm and not lose our cool,” suggested Zak.
“Easier said than done,” whispered Michael.
“If I can see it,
Then I can do it,
If I just believe it,
There is nothing to it!”
Adam suddenly broke into a song….his melodically toned voice echoed in the deserted road. His voice was soothing; it made us all forget our problems. Music was all that calmed my troubled heart or perhaps that is what I told myself. “Come on boys, don’t leave me hanging,” laughed Adam. We all laughed, it kind of relaxed the mood.
“If I can see it,
Then I can do it,
If I just believe it,
There is nothing to it!”
We sang…it was hard to jam to a slow music so we just walked and sang. Cats rushed out to observe the introducers of the night. Slowly lights from houses started to flick on. Curious strangers rushed to the windows to take a peek. None of us really seemed to care, we played in tune together. The latest street boy band roamed the street at 3 am causing havoc! I thought to myself. The absurd idea made me chuckle as I loathed boy bands, even their music bothered me, except boyz to men and backstreet boys; they rocked back in my days. Now they are just….lets not even go there.
“Shut up you bunch of drunken losses!” yelled a man, wearing a white vest, his beer bully hung on his front.
“Yes, hush up or we’ll call the police!” ranted another man. However, this man was slimmer than the previous one. His slim figure and pale sculptured face made him look like a vampire taken from a nightmare.
“Chill, we are shutting it!” laughed Michael.
“And now they all think we are drunk and thus we have an alibi,” grinned David. A glint of excitement glowed in his oceanic blue eyes. His naturally tanned complexion went well with his eyes, at times it seemed almost strange how he managed to obtain an all year round tan. If I didn’t know better I’d say he sneaks to have a tan top up every month!
06-06-2006, 09:36 AM
Grr... silver pearl is giving me competition!:pReply
Lol jokes. Your story is good sis.:D
Nah it's better than that... it's wicked!;)
06-07-2006, 03:39 AM
Yeah its really wicked!!!Reply
"Chill, we are shutting it!" lol :D
06-07-2006, 03:40 AM
Chill Bro its not da same; you are zAk and he's Zak.:giggling:
06-12-2006, 06:07 PM
Lol Umm_Shaheed, no competition, the golden trophy is all yours habibti :).Reply
Dreamer good story. Aljawaad, shukran for the compliment, though i do not think credit is due here. It's a shame no one else is willing to share some of their work, lakin ma fee mushkeela.
Spark of faith
Our sudden chaotic scene came to an abrupt end, the street resumed to its deafening silence. Our soft footsteps echoed behind us, it unsettled my thoughts. It felt as though someone was watching me, waiting for me. I shrugged the absurd thought from my conscience and continued to walk on.
Michael and David took a left turn to Manner Avenue, leaving me, Zak and Adam to continue roaming. “See ya laterz,” waved David. I waved back and forced a smile.
After several minutes, Adam also left us; I stopped briefly to stare at his figure. His broad shoulders looked tensed, his pace quickened with every step. The navy blue Air Max set he wore made him look extremely tall but in reality he was of average height. Zak starred at me, and murmured something beneath his breath. “Say wot?” I asked.
“It’s Friday tomorrow,” he replied absentmindedly.
“Err, yes it is genius,” I laughed.
“What about it?” I uttered.
“Should we go and pray jumu’ah prayer?” he suggested. I stared at him, eyes squinted, my dry lips curled into a resentful sneer.
“Why? You think some how the imam is gonna cleanse our sins away?!” I hissed.
“Hey be careful what you say man,” he whispered. There was a degree of control in his voice.
“We haven’t prayed god knows how long, you think one trip round the local mosque is suddenly gonna make us holy?!” I s------ed. Zak’s facial muscles tightened, his soft brown eyes glowed in rage.
“Perhaps if we were good believers, we wouldn’t have resulted to doing this stuff tonight,” Zak alleged.
“Oh bite me Zak!” I ridiculed.
“May Allah forgive us,” was all he replied. I gazed at him, bewildered by his sudden comments. I spent many years with Zak, we were friends as long as I can remember and never had he tried to do anything Islamic. Even during the time of Ramadan neither of us fasted nor did we go to the masjid to pray. I always disliked the brothers and sisters who would suddenly become all religious during the month of fasting as though God only watched them for one month. I wasn’t going to be a hypocrite, lead the prayers one day and play with girls round the bend the next.
“Sorry, it’s just that…..why the sudden interest?” I quizzed.
“David,” he replied. He gave me a name and actually expected me to add 2 and 2 together. Was he joking me?! “Yeah, you’re going to have to give me a bit more than just David. For all I know you could be talking about David from organic chemistry lesson with the orange highlights,” I beamed.
“We started talking about Islam about a week ago, made me think I suppose,” he whispered.
And with that we broke into silence, neither of us tried to say anything, we didn’t even dare to look at each other. The journey continued with a painful silence that could wound the dead.
“This is my road, so I’ll see ya around,” gestured Zak.
06-13-2006, 04:58 AM
MashaAllah Sis you are really talented. Reply
MAy Allah make you even more talented.
By the way the chapter was really gud.
06-15-2006, 05:53 PM
Jizakallah khair Aljawaad....I don’t know if I’ll carry it on….might leave it with this chapter and others can post their stories.
I lingered down the isolated road, I felt every muscle in my body move, and every nerve seemed to be on alert. Thoughts of confusion swirled in my mind. I couldn’t quite make sense of anything. Even my existence seemed a fabrication to me, was I really breathing? Was I even conscience? Or was everything merely a dream?
I didn’t know the answers to my questions but that was mainly my fault. I was never one to seek answers, such things never bothered me. I had spent most of my life absorbing what I had been taught by teachers and lecturers, it never occurred to me to seek answers in my own time.
Both my parents were Muslims, Muslim by title, I knew that much for a fact. Prayers were only enforced in the month of Ramadan. We didn’t eat pork because that was frowned on culturally, and the only religious thing we said was ‘Allah’.
I remember once when I was about 7 years old. A Muslim woman lived next door to us, she was ever so nice, she always used to bake the perfect apple pie on Eid day and bring it over to our house. She once caught my older sister and younger brother arguing and throwing the word of God like a tennis ball. My siblings got told off by our neighbour. I remember her exact words. “Don’t mock the name of the creator, he is watching you, every move you make. Now seek forgiveness from Allah”
For many years I appreciated her presence, she made life sweet, at times I wished I was her son but sadly one does not chose their family members.
Eventually after what seemed like hours of reflection I reached home. I rummaged through my back pocket and took out my keys. With trembling hands I opened the large mahogany front door. The smell of mustard rushed through my nostrils and I nearly heaved at the stench.
“Good to see you home at last,” said Ali, my younger brother.
“Yeah and what do you want?” I interrogated.
“Oh don’t flatter yourself, Naeema wanted a word with you,” he hissed.
I never saw eye to eye with my brother, and I equally disliked my sister. Both of them were a pain that I could do without. My sister who is 2 years older than me acted like a child, if she wasn’t complaining about her hair, it was about her nails. Whilst my brother had a thing for sarcasm, most times it was bearable but sometimes it was too much to bear.
I entered my sister’s bedroom; the fluorescent pink walls made me cringe. “Why don’t you ever knock?!” she screeched.
“If I am being made to listen to your moaning then you shouldn’t be foolish enough to think I’ll follow your rules,” I sneered.
She huffed and muttered something insignificant beneath her breath. I hurled my body on top of her bed. “What do you think you’re doing?! She cried.
“Making sure you don’t die of loose springs,” I smirked.
“Oh grow up!”
“So what is it you want this time? Broken nail? Split ends? Or perhaps it is…..bad blemishes,” I laughed.
“If you’re going to be like that then forget it!” she murmured. I bolted from her bed and headed for the exit, freedom from being tortured.
“You don’t care about me do you?” she sobbed gently.
I turned around and stared at her, her small face was framed with layers of make-up. One could no longer tell where her face ended and the make-up began. The thick mascara was clearly not water proof as dark reams of rubbish trickled down her cheeks.
“Cela vie,” I sighed and walked away. I was cold hearted and that was something she was going to have to live with. “All I was going to say is that Ellie fancies you,” she hissed bitterly.
I stopped dead in my tracks and faced her, a sense of resentment and pure hatred lingered in her dark eyes. “I am not interested.” And with that I walked away and went to my bedroom.
I lay in my cold bed, thinking about my life, thinking about what Zak said. Who was I? What did it mean to be a Muslim? A true Muslim.
06-16-2006, 04:49 AM
Sis' u'll have to continue. Its too gud now to jus leave us behind.
By the way i noticed dat u know some French.
06-16-2006, 05:25 AM
Originally Posted by aljawaad
Yeah i study French....though i couldn't say i was good at it.
Continue it? Hmm....Inshallah
i'll try and post something ba'3da salat-ul asr.
06-16-2006, 05:31 AM
06-18-2006, 03:12 PM
Autumn sunlight rushed through my bedroom; the radiant light glistened on my face. I attempted to open my groggy eyes but failed miserably. I forcefully opened my left eye and looked at my bedside table; it read 11:59 am. I turned around, making sure the sun didn’t disturb my nap again. I refused to wake up before noon especially on Friday seeing as my lecture only started at 3:00pm.
My thoughts drifted into darkness, I lay there motionless, my body felt stiff as ever. I listened to my heartbeat, every beat soothed me to sleep, and every beat opened up a pool of darkness. My conscience was engulfed in emptiness, darkness….
I jolted from the bed, having no sense of what was around me I tried to get out of bed. I missed and ended up falling on my back side rather than on my feet.
“Oh buzz off!” I cried softly.
The door suddenly swung open, my mother stood at the door. Her petite figure made her look almost childish. Dark circles demonized her beautiful hazel eyes. Her dry lips curled with a smile, a forced smile. “What part of knock before walking in do you not seem to understand?!” I shouted.
With one sentence I managed to wipe the smile off my mother’s face. She squinted and stared at me. I couldn’t work out whether she was angry with me or simply confused. “Do you need anything washing?” she whispered.
“I’ll wash them myself,” I replied. I watched her fragile figure linger out of my bedroom and into the bright corridor. Her long brown hair hung carelessly on her shoulders. From the back she looked young, young enough to be my sister but the streaks of white hair gave away her true age.
I turned my eyes away and pulled my weight up. I glanced at my clock, 12:57 pm. I staggered towards my wardrobe. I pulled out my faded Armani jeans and a t-shirt. I then headed towards the shower.
At quarter past one I walked out the front door. I got into my car, music blaring I drove off. I didn’t know where I was going; I just needed time to myself. For some strange reason the music started to bother me so I turned it off. I drove in utter silence, thinking, thinking about what Zak said.
Wilted golden leaves lay scattered on the busy road, the soft wind howled gently. Everything seemed to be going fast, it looked unreal and absurd. As I drove past the masjid my shoulders tightened. I felt my heart beat thumping painfully against my chest. I drove into the masjid parking area and observed the numerous men and women pouring out the building.
Everyone seemed to be playing by the same rules, eyes fixed on the ground for most of the time but quick glances directed towards the opposite sex. Except this one sister, her face looked familiar and after few seconds it registered to me that she was in my cell biology class. She was amongst the very few Muslim girls I respected; ironically she never said much to me. Perhaps that is why I respected her, smart, very funny but she showed little interest for flirting with guys.
I noticed that unlike others she was staring at where she was going, staring at the brothers, although she was staring through them rather than at them. She amazed me that for someone who was not married she couldn’t care less if a drop dead gorgeous brother stumbled upon her.
I had a sudden urge to walk into the masjid but I feared that people may give me a strange look. Since when did you care about people’s opinion, whispered a voice in my head. I followed my impulse and practically ran into the masjid.
“Excuse me, is the jumu’ah prayer over?” I asked the sister in my cell biology class.
“Err, yes but there is a second one you can catch,” she replied.
“Thank you Ahlam,” I smiled.
“Wa eyaka,” she replied, no trace of smile on her face. I was a bit gutted that she didn’t return my smile not to mention the fact that she replied in something I didn’t know the meaning to.
I took off my adidas trainers and walked into the mosque, “Asalamu alaykum brother,” said a voice.
I blushed and smiled at the brother, I didn’t know what to reply for I had never really took my faith serious enough.
“Excuse me,” I muttered shyly at a brother.
“Yes?” he replied.
“James? Is that you?” I questioned in awe. James was a good friend of mine, he was part of our crew but after we left college we drifted, we never spoke really. I guess now I knew why he broke his friendship from us. He was of an African American descendant that was born and bred in UK.
“Yes it is!” he grinned. We hugged, masculine hug of course! He told me a bit about his new life and I found myself intrigued, hocked on every word he muttered.
“So are you here to change your life?” he asked eagerly.
“Don’t know,” I uttered. I wasn’t willing to drop everything, life was fine for me, blissful wrapped in a layer of honey to be specific. Could I afford to change everything? Why has my life suddenly become tangled, I asked myself.
06-18-2006, 03:20 PM
masha Allah sis, that was great.
You've got talent girl ;) <<< for silver pearl :p
Masha Allah, i hope this isnt the last chapter insha Allah
06-18-2006, 04:09 PM
Great series.. I cant wait for the next episode to come out :)Reply
06-19-2006, 04:49 AM
MaashaAllah. You really got talent!Reply
06-19-2006, 06:45 PM
I think this thread will get the greater exposure it deserves in the General forum :)Reply
06-19-2006, 07:47 PM
OooOooh Sis Silver_Pearl now that is what I call talent Subhanallah..utterly captivating. Next chapter please!!Reply
06-19-2006, 07:48 PM
erm my story....Reply
I was reading the newspaper downstairs when someone’s long braid slapped my face. It was wife dear rushing pass me to get upstairs. I watched wife dear Waddle up the stairs, then back down. She’s 8 months pregnant, and I found out that women when they are pregnant, from seven months they adopt the duck walk. She waddled over to me looking distressed. Apparently she forgot something. “Honey bun did you see my silver earrings? The hoop ones with the hearts dangling in the middle. Did you?”
“How am I ever supposed to find earrings to match with this dress? It’s your entire fault you bought this dress with all these hearts over it in the first place. You have horrible taste. Now I have to change because I can’t find anything to match.”
I watched wife dear stomp/waddle back up the stairs. I went back to reading my newspaper. I would give her 10 more minutes to get ready. If not She was staying home.
Someone knocked over my newspaper. Irritated I looked up and found myself looking into wife dear’s eyes. She had changed her dressed, and was striking up a pose. “Pumpkin pie, do you think this dress looks great on me?”
She grinned and waddled back up the stairs. 7 more minutes to go. I picked up my newspaper again and continued reading.
“Sweeeeeet heart…” Wife dear whispered in my ear. I whipped my head around and found her biting on her nails, again looking distressed. I gave her a questioning look. Suddenly she giggled and held up 4 pairs of earrings. “Which one looks better on me?”
After a very tough decision, I answered “The Arab looking ones” I held my breath.
“Omygod! You have wonderful taste!” I raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t it the opposite earlier? “I love you I love you I love you!” She smooched my cheek and…..waddled back upstairs.
I was beginning to get nervous. Would she be ready on time? This was a really important event, and I thought I had made it clear to her that we should be on time. Well, still 3 more minutes to go. I went back to reading my newspaper.
Honking…someone was honking a car horn outside…then I felt my ear being tugged harshly. “You! Didn’t you say you have to be on time! What are you doing here asleep behind the newspaper! Get in the car! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting! Hurry up! We’re already ten minutes late sleepy head!”
okay there it is.....*runs out*
06-19-2006, 07:50 PM
hey nawaal...........you should become an authouress!!..way to go sis ;)Reply
06-20-2006, 06:17 AM
Author's note: Jizakallah khayrun....Nawal mashallah that is good, hope you're gonna continue.
I sat at the corner of the mosque observing the brothers praying, the line was supposed to be straight but in the end it was all over the place. The Imam (one of the few terminologies I acquired during my youth) stood at the front, the second row was straight but that was it. I guess it was easier for me to see the errors made by them as I was an observer.
The Imam pronounced “Allahu Akbar” and the brothers followed in queue. Their left palm was placed beneath their right palm. They all stared at the ground, mesmerised in something that I could not find fixed on the floor. Why did they all stare at the floor? I felt alienated and empty. For once in my life I felt the odd one out, the feeling was strange to me.
I had spent all my life being the popular one, the handsome one, the leader. Yet today the tables had turned, I was no longer the object of admiration, to the brothers I was merely a lost soul. Although none of them uttered such words towards me their eyes told a different story.
After two rakat (James explained this word to me) the brothers finished. No one flinched or moved a muscle for about 30 seconds. Then it happened….people rose and practically stumbled towards the door. If I didn’t know better I’d say someone had set their rear end on fire! Of course not everyone carried out this action but rather half the congregation. I curled my legs so that I was accidentally-on-purpose stood on.
However, some people couldn’t quite get past the front door. You know why? Because few brothers decided it would be appropriate to do their voluntary prayers where the exit door was. Impatient mutters broke out and I was almost sure someone said something to the effect of, why would you pray in front of the door, the door! I didn’t find this scene amusing in the slightest manner. Although James was laughing, it was more of a sad laughter rather than a ha-ha that is hilarious laughter. It puzzled me as to why he laughed but perhaps it was a personal joke, one I would have to ask about later on.
James abruptly stood up; he cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something. The words seemed to choke on his throat so he closed his mouth and coughed.
“Brothers!” he announced. Everyone glared at him, waiting for him to say something that would wash away their agitation. “As you can see the door has been occupied so instead of sulking perhaps we could take this opportunity to learn a very valuable asset,” he instructed.
“Sabrun jameel,” said a stranger. People moved out of the way to reveal the person who dared to interrupt James. An old man looked up, a genuine smile played on his wrinkled face. “Patience is such a great thing, why do you think the Qur’an mentions it so often?” he questioned. No one said anything.
The silence continued for several minutes until the brothers finally finished their prayer. The exit was free and as suspected people just poured out as though their wives would slaughter them if they were 20 milliseconds late.
“Don’t you have a lecture today?” said james.
“Sadly yes,” I smiled.
“cheer up, it could be worse,” he mocked.
“I don’t think so,” I scorned.
“Sure….” He uttered sarcastically.
“You wanna beat a bar of chocolate on it?” I suggested.
“Sorry I don’t bet and chocolate? You’re kidding me right?” he chuckled.
“Twix, king size,” I winked.
“I hate the implication that I’d fall into your trap just because you offered me a beautiful, perfectly made bar of Twix. Caramel lining, filled with a layer of biscuit and coated with delicately made chocolate,” he whispered. His dark eyes glinted with excitement and he pretended to drool. I laughed hysterically causing people to stare at me.
“I see you still have a thing for Twix then,” I laughed.
“Say that loud enough and the whole congregation might just hear you,” he smiled.
We both walked out the masjid; James had to go some place so I was left in the parking area. I sighed and got into the car. I drove off, not in silence this time but with the music blaring in my ears. My favourite CD was playing and I had no intention to switch it off. Back to my old ways again....
06-20-2006, 06:40 AM
He had jsut woken up form a deep and silent sleep, everyone else was sleeping.Reply
light was what he saw, no sound ...nothing, ''im a dead?'' he thought, ''No no yet'' a voice said, who are you? ''im the angel of death'' , ''please give me some more time'' he replied. No, Allah has given you your time but fear not for i have been told that you were a rightiouse believer so nothin have you to fear, because of television he imagened that the angel would be dark and gloomy, bu tno he was astonishing!
i shall folllow you O, angel of death! , '' good' 'the angel replied and sat down next to his head and his soul dripped off his face and body, ''it feels wonderfull he whispered'' after the sould was taken away the believer saw hsi real self he was beautifull, ''what shall happen to me o angel of death Azrael? '''follow these two for they shall bring you to you Lord'' all of a sudden he saw to sources of light and fragnrance never before smeeld of imagened
Asalaamu aleykum he said aleykuma salaam warahmatullahi wabaraktu they replied; one made a smile ''this reminds me of Adam when he said the same to us'' he said, and while he was percieving it not he was hovering up way up, he had never felt this kind of freedom, after the had met his Lord, he was fullfilled andwas brought to his grave where he was told to sleep he slept immediatly, he saw this beautifull girl who who kept smiling as light gushed forth form behind her, her smell was unimagenable ''who are you ?'' he said,
''i am your iman'' she replied as she struck forth her hands towards the believer, he saw light as never before seen and his eyes had swoolen up from the miracles he had seen, he saw mountains high as the stars rivers as wide as oceans and all houses surpassing even the mountains ''subhanAllah'' he said... suhanAllah''..subhanAllah...subhanAllah, he cried so much that his tears could for clouds if they where they to evaporate... he fell down in rest and satisfaction what is this place? he said and the last thing he heard was jannah's window......
may Allah bless us with eternal mercy form Him and may we be among the righteous ones who are close to Him AAMEEN
06-20-2006, 07:13 AM
Subhanallah, gr8 post Sis.Reply
By the way your post too was good Dawud.
06-22-2006, 05:51 PM
The music was soothing to my ears, it calmed me, or at least that is what I told myself. I cranked up the volume to full blast, the leather seats seemed to vibrate with each beat. My mobile suddenly rang; I lifted myself from the seat to reach my phone. One wasn’t allowed to answer their phones whilst driving but no one really cared, unless you got caught then you cried bitterly about the amount of money you had to pay for a while.
“Hello?” came my voice; it sounded hoarse and off key.
“Where were you?” asked Adam, on the other side of the line.
“Cruising Dad,” I remarked.
“Ha-di-ha, man you’re so funny, I think my sides are going to bust!” he commented sarcastically.
“Well you know, born joker here,” I replied sardonically.
“Sure, anyways you better turn up to your lecture today,” he warned.
“I’ll be there,” I said. And with that he hung the phone up on me. I presumed from Adam’s tone of voice that he knew I wasn’t just cruising
but he was never a man to poke his nose in something that didn’t bother him.
I drove about for roughly half an hour before arriving at the campus. Adam was already waiting for me, so I parked my car and greeted him. We sauntered towards our designated location for our immunology lecture room. Immunology was one of my favourite subjects; there was something that was right about that subject. However, if one was to ask me to explain my feelings I wouldn’t be able to.
I walked into the lecture room; room isn’t the right word to use actually seeing as the space was humongous. Chair and tables were laid row by row perfectly.
“Got your Dictaphone then?” enquired Adam.
“As if I’d forget it,” I snorted. We loitered into the lecture room and walked over to Professor Mansoon’s desk. We placed both our Dictaphones on his desk and placed record. “You know the drill sir,” grinned Adam cheekily.
Students sat silently on their chairs, all of their attention directed at us as usual. I guess the look of sheer shock in what we did in every immunology lesson for the past 3 weeks never really wore off. You’d think they’d eventually get over it, but not these students.
“Lads one of these days you’re actually going to have to stay in my lesson you know,” mused professor Mansoon.
“Don’t we know it, but when the time comes we shall tackle that problem yeah?” I stated.
Professor Mansoon didn’t really care whether we recorded his voice rather than be present in his lessons. Actually he preferred our absence because it meant that we wouldn’t have the chance to make some smart sarcastic comments in his lectures nor would there be the possibility of us asking him unanswerable questions (which usually resulted in him blushing).
Professor Mansoon’s half moon spectacles were placed delicately on his long pointed nose. His high cheek bones shimmered and emphasised on his emerald eyes. He had small lips which were always coiled into a sneer. His white mass of hair hung messily on his head like a mop. Although he had many features that deceived people of his real age, the wrinkles on his forehead were always a give away.
Professor M (as we called him) gestured for us to buzz off until the end of the lecture when we would return to collect our Dictaphones. We didn’t try and give him any excuse to take back his liberal viewpoint on our skiving so we legged it.
I took this precious moment of silence to reflect on myself whilst Adam was distracted staring at some of the screeching girls who seemed to have forgotten that they had lessons to attend to. I went through today’s scenario. I assessed everything I saw and did in the mosque, every thought I had opened a deep hole left abandoned for many years. Life had become too entangling; it smothered me with a wire coil. I walked confused…..too confused to even make sense of where I was going.
Blur of the upcoming chapters:
Ash becomes absorbed in the world of corruption; he sells his soul for a priceless luxury that only results in deception, lie and blood shed. Except hope glistens in his heart, God guides whom he pleases but what if someone is not willing to take on the truth and be guided?
Death is inevitable but Ash didn’t think he’d taste it so soon, too soon….would he become the paradise dwellers or has he bargained honey for burning hell?
The blur is there because I’ll not update any time soon. Although I have a lot of plot for the story, I have practically hijacked the thread. So I’ll let the true stars shine. Go on Nawal and Dawud!!
06-22-2006, 06:59 PM
This story really amazed me the first time I read it.... I am sure u guys will like it too....Reply
I didn't write this story I got it from a book ..I hope that is ok. anywayz enjoy.............
Should We Really Laugh?
Hasan al-Basri (rahimaullah) was an eminent scholar and pious individual of his time. He would rarely laugh due to his remembrance of death and the punishment of hell. One day he was going somewhere when he saw a young man indugled in laughter. Hasan al-Basri asked the youth, "Young man, have you already crossed the bridge of Sirath? Have you already found out whether you are going to paradise or hell?" The young man replied, "No." Hasan al-Basri told him, "Then why are you laughing so much?" After that, no one saw this young man laughing again as he came to know the reality of this life.
Source: Story extracted from the book "Tambihul Ghafileen" by Shaikh Abul Laith Samarkandi.
Many hours or probably days have passed away from our lives in laughter and jokes. It is a sign that we have forgotten the life of the hereafter. The sahabah used to do good deeds all day but still cry during the night to Allah. On the other hand, we do sins all day and still have no concerns! It is permissible to laugh at amazing things and smile while being in company of others.
06-25-2006, 12:23 AM
well i don't usually write stories, but i love writting poems so i will share my poems kkkkkkkkkk.Reply
Here it is inshallah hope you like it and can comment on it inshallah
The Love for my country
Oh my homeland I Miss
Oh my mother I miss
Oh the beautiful sand I miss
My friends and Neighbors that I miss
Oh a hope that I always have for my country
Never know if it could get better
But if I have always tried to put some
Faith in my heart for my country, other countries
That I have always wanted to get better
But Only Allah Knows that someday it could be
Better, better then never, but I have always
Try to put faith in my heart and I know that Allah The one and only could do better for my country and me.
A lot of people like to act like
something they aren't
Something they weren't never born with
something that Allah Hasn't not allowed
Something That a lot of young boys
and girls like to be its gangster
When ask them do you know what it means
they don't know, but they think is cool
Oh Allah they forget the hellfire, Oh Allah they
forgot the day of judgment , Oh Allah forgive them
Oh Allah please lead them to the right path, After all nobody’s
perfect, But the best way to meet your challenges is to be yourself.
08-03-2006, 01:33 PM
:sl: hey gr8 poems sis!! *thumbs up!*
anyway...i have a book called THE ROSE GARDEN....its a great read for both children and adults alike...here's one of the stories...
The Rose Garden
A collection of short stories by Shaykh Sa’di, Suitable for children and young people- the stories appear like literary pearls which you want to touch and savour with your mind’s eye.
A FAIR EMPEROR
Nausherwan, an emperor of ancient Persia, once went hunting. They caught some animals which they killed and made ready for cooking. While the hunted meat was being roasted, someone remembered to send for salt from a nearby village. The emperor told him to pay for the salt. He did not want it to become the custom to grab even little things from the poor. He said that this would devastate the prosperity of the village.
The servant asked how such a small quantity of salt could cause such destruction. The emperor replied ‘All tyranny starts from a tiny beginning which no one notices. If a ruler tastes one fruit free of charge, then his people eat up the trees to their very roots. If the king accepts five eggs for free, then his army fry and boil thousands.’
TO BE CONTINUED...INSH...:sister:
08-07-2006, 01:23 PM
:sl: :sister: no more stories?? ah well... :uhwhat lol i'll take the floor!!
Stories from THE ROSE GARDEN cont…
THE AFRICAN MAN’S REPLY
Someone once insulted an Africa man. His reply filled me with admiration. He said instantly to that man, “I did not create my own colour or face, so why do you criticise me? I am not the creator of black or white. This appearance is my destiny and my racial characteristic. I have not attempted to change it, for better or for worse. In fact, I am proud of it. Allah the Almighty knows that I have no power over my shape. He is the Artist and I am nothing compared to His supreme creativity.”
It is Allah the Almighty who guides us on the right path, IF we intend to keep to it. Otherwise we get lost in the maze of conflicts, worldly temptations and our own ungratefulness.
ALLAH IS WATCHING
A man was busy in an activity which is not allowed. Then he saw a good neighbour pass him by. In his embarrassment he cried aloud, “Oh shame! A dervish like this old man from my locality has seen me busy in wrongdoing and he has surely recognised me!”
The sensible old man heard his remarks. He became angry and scolded the young lawbreaker and said, “Are you not ashamed of your words? You are shy of me and not of Allah! You cannot please everyone around you with your deeds and behaviour. But you should keep your mind open to Allah’s Will. Be conscious of the presence and power of Allah. He is the only one to be worshipped and feared. Be aware of Allah in the same way you are aware of the opinions of your friends, relatives, enemies and neighbours.”
A STRONG WALL
I remember as a child going out with my father to join the Eid celebrations. I lost his company in the crowds because I was attracted by the games of children like myself. At last my father found me and boxed my ears. “You naughty little son,” he scolded me, “Didn’t I tell you to hold fast to my shirt? A child cannot walk alone in such a crowd, and this is a new place for you.”
Keep to the company of the learned who are on the straight path of Islam. Do not keep to the company of those who have bad habits, otherwise you too might lose your dignity in society.
Just as a baby clutches to the wall for support when he starts walking, you too need the support and companionship of Muslim men and women, even a ruler needs such good company.
VALUE YOUR FRIEND
A slave disobeyed his royal master. The enraged king handed him over to a hardhearted new master. He even gave him the authority to have him beheaded if he thought it necessary. The imprisoned slave was now in the clutches of a cruel oppressor. He wailed aloud. He condemned himself for having hurt the feelings of such a good master, because his mistake had led him into an enemy’s possession.
A wise person should never leave a friend, because his enemies will become bold and harm him. To disappoint and desert a friend is actually like wounding him. That is an act which only an enemy can perform. Be faithful to your friends in words and deeds. Then the hidden enemy will remain rootless.
Remember, hurting a friend in order to please an enemy or stranger brings a bad reputation.
TWO BITTER ENEMIES
(A favourite of mine)
Two rich men were bitter enemies; they avoided each other’s company. In public they kept their heads held high in pride.
Soon one of them died, leading behind his worldly comforts, pomp and splendour. The other secretly rejoiced in his enemy’s death. A long time later he happened to pass the graveyard. There, seeing his enemy’s grave, he stopped. A black, dried up heap of moss covered that neglected place. It was now home for a man whose palace had once been decorated with gold and silver.
The man scornfully pulled off a strip of the rotting wooden coffin. Inside he saw the wealthy man’s head detached from the neck. Both of the eyes were hollow and filled with earth. The passage of time had reduced that face. Once it was as bright as the full moon. It had become barley a slip of the crescent moon. His tall body had been eaten up and mutilated by ants, worms and insects. His powerful arms, hands and fingers were all disconnected at the dried-up joints.
Suddenly his heart melted at the sight. His eyes shed countless tears of sorrow and remorse. His tears thickened the earth inside the grave like dough. He regretted his own bad behaviour to the dead man so much that he arranged to install a name plate on the grave which carried the following inscription:
“Never rejoice in anyone’s death, you will not outlive him for very long.”
A worshipper heard of this incident. He prayed to Allah to forgive to man whose enemy had cried for him. Sooner or later we will be reduced to an unrecognisable heap of dust. Then our enemies as well as our friends may forgive our shortcomings and pray for us.
Once I hit a rock very hard with an iron tool in order to break it. Suddenly I heard a pained whispering voice urging me to strike gently. It said that the hard piece of rock could contain fossils of those long dead and forgotten.
To be continued soon Insha’Allah
08-09-2006, 05:05 AM
jazakAllah great storiesReply
10-20-2006, 03:28 PM
(Thought i'd resurrect this thread)
I walked out the mosque; I could not place the sensation that rushed through my veins, adrenaline perhaps. My heart beat pounded into my chest loudly, I squinted around and noticed how every ‘brother’ as they addressed each other had his eyes fixed on the ground as though trying to found money. I felt odd, out of place to my own shock. I quickly gazed at the ground as an attempt to blend in with the crowd.
My thoughts drifted to Ahlam, she intrigued me greatly and I truly wished I knew why. Her dark eyes formed in my thoughts, a pretty smile playing on her tender face, her brown skin glowing in the autumn weather. I had not realized her features until today, why did I even dare think about her? I quickly decided to occupy my mind on something else.
I fumbled through my pocket to find my car keys; I clenched the cold silver keys and quickly opened my car. I drove. I kept driving until my phone started to buzz in my pocket. I was aware of the consequence of talking on a phone whilst driving, however, I didn’t really care, come to think of it I enjoyed the thrill of knowing I could be caught.
“You have reached Bill Gate’s handsome assistant, please leave a message after the tone,” I uttered.
“Keep day dreaming boy!” laughed Adam.
“S’up man?” I chuckled.
“Setting the uni on fire!” he remarked joyfully.
“And you say I’m day dreaming. So what do I owe this phone call?” I asked impatiently.
“I got Katie breathing down my neck, apparently Lisa told Asiya who told Katie who txt’d me saying that Ellie really digs you and I’m supposed to link you up,” he concluded.
“I’m not interested,” I sighed.
“What? You were like all over her like a bad rash for the past 2 months, guys don’t play hard to get you muppet!” he hissed.
“Man I ain’t playing with you. I’m not feeling her, she’ll have to buy a box of chocolate and get over it. Now when are we going to that hot rave you promised me?” I mumbled quickly.
“Suit yourself, erm say tonight, midnight-ish?” suggested Adam.
“Seen,” I whispered absent-mindedly. I waited till Adam hung the phone on me. Abruptly my eyes caught a figure that I yearned to converse with and it was just my luck that I should drive past them. As I slowed moderately to stop beside the figure I winded my window down.
“Sister,” I uttered calmly. Ahlam turned around and stared at me, confusion played on her face as she observed me. Within the same second she turned away, and questioned me about why I called her.
“We have the same lecture and I thought you’d like a lift,” I charmed. She was not in the slightest bit pleased or amused but she did smile gently, almost in an apologetic manner and I knew what her answer would be.
“Thank you for the offer brother but that won’t be necessary. I prefer to walk if that is ok,” she stated.
Her words opened a wound that I was not even aware of its existence. My face darkened and I quickly drove away, not giving her the satisfaction of knowing my feelings. How dare she reject my offer? Does she think she can get someone better then me? What a stupid girl! Vile thoughts rushed though my head and I felt my blood boil with rage.
10-21-2006, 05:43 PM
next chapter pleezReply
this is so good
10-25-2006, 11:56 AM
Darkness at the end of the tunnel
Hot blood rushed to my temples and they gently started to throb, indicating the upcoming of a rather dreadful headache. How dare she refuse me? Was all that rushed through my head. I never knew the meaning of rejection for I was not one who had ever been rejected. I had it easy as my friends would tell me so frequently. Smooth talker, good looking and good personality, I am allowed to be egotistical because I am sure of myself.
I stepped on the accelerator, oblivious to the road and those who drove beside me. My stomach churned with a strange sensation, it was certainly not because of lack of food.
Unexpectedly a lorry swerved out of control in front of me, I tried to escape but it was too late. My car was thrashed to the side of the lane, the engine roared in my ears. The glass window had shattered in my lap and I realized that the metal door had ripped.
A sharp part of the metal door went though my right thigh, my denim jeans darkened with thick blood. My heart started to thump violently and I couldn’t breathe anymore. My eyes become groggily with extreme pain and I lay weak on the leather seat of the car, Incapable of doing anything. “Can you hear me sir,” came a muffled voice, it sounded as though the person was light years away. I attempted to open my trembling cold lips but I had no energy.
I gently tried to signal with my hand but the pain was unbearable. A screaming voice rang in my ears and it took me several seconds to realize the screaming person was me.
“Sir…Sir….Sir…..” someone kept muttering.
Burning tears dribbled down my numb cheeks and I felt the salty tear drops enter the corners of my lips. Reality kept fading in and out before me. Blurry figures kept trying to reassure me as though that would suddenly make it better.
I was scared and alone, what if I die? Whispered a voice at the back of my head. My body started to shake aggressively for no reason, my body failed me and all I was aware of was some of the thoughts that hovered in my mind. I felt hopeless as death pulled me into darkness, into the next realm of eternity.
Please Allah don’t let me die, I’ll change, I’ll be a good Muslim. I kept repeating the statement in my mind, hoping for some ease.
“Hold in there son,” came a faint voice, it sounded like a man.
“Fight the angel of death,” he continued to yell. I snorted at the pathetic comment he declared so freely. Even I was not that ignorant to question the power of God’s creation.
I tried to keep my eyes open; as I was instructed to do. However, my eye lids became heavy. I could sense my conscience slipping away, darkness engulfing me with open arms. I attempted to keep my eyes alert but failed miserably. Shadows of unfamiliarity became my new domain, no soul to aid me, and there were no words of comfort that could be uttered by anyone.
No recognizable thoughts lingered in my conscience; all that seemed familiar to me was the intensity of darkness and morbidity.
02-09-2007, 01:35 PM
By the way is this the last chapter or will there b more?
02-09-2007, 11:03 PM
Mashllah some great storiesReply
this is a story i recently wrote for my sats (ks3)
i know its a bit childish but it was what my english teacher asked for,
any comments or suggestions will be appreciated
Matt opened his eyes, but he was only greeted with darkness. He tried to stand up, and for a moment the world swam around him. It was as if all of the trees had decided to dance around him for the moment. After a minute they settled down, and Matt realized with some shock that he could see.
He couldn’t remember much, but even this failed to frighten him for the moment. His survival instincts kicked in and he started trudging through the forest, looking for any place where he could be safe from whatever dangers that might be waiting in this wild, lonely yet oddly comforting place. Looks could be misleading, Matt knew.
That was why he decided to investigate instead of run when he noticed something rustle behind him. Hearing it first, he then caught a glimpse of whatever it was: he could see fairly well in the dark, and wondered if the moon was full. He wondered whether or not there were any werewolves in this forest, and then realized he was smiling and wondered why.
He pushed the branches of the shrub aside and tried to see the source of the noise: it was a woman! She had blazing red hair, visible even in the dark of the night. She had a fair, though not beautiful face that would seem to place her in her early to mid twenties. Upon closer inspection, Matt realized that she was hurt.
“Are you alright?” he asked, in a quiet voice, trying to be soothing.
The woman’s eyes went wide, and she said nothing.
“Are you alright?” Matt tried again, pushing his way all the way through the bush so that he could kneel down and examine her wounds more thoroughly.
The woman seemed to have recovered at least some of her awareness, for she swallowed and answered, albeit falteringly, “Ye-e-s, I think so.”
“It looks okay,” said Matt, “but I’m no expert.” he paused. “Do you think you can stand? Or more importantly, walk?”
“Only one way to find out.” The woman slowly held onto the side of a tree trunk and pulled herself up. She shakily tried to take a few steps. “Yes, I think I’m fine.”
Matt nodded, relieved. The last thing he wanted was to be dragging some invalid around with him. Come on,” he said, and turned around, making his way through the bush. He had no idea what hazards were in these woods, and didn’t particularly want to find out. They, or at least he, needed to make the best time he could.
“What happened” he asked.
The woman looked nervous.
“What? You can tell me. I don’t bite,” snapped Matt, who was getting annoyed.
“Well, I was walking through the woods to get to the next town—“
“Eagerly Matt broke in. “Do you know where it is?!”
No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” faltered the woman. “As I was saying, I was walking to the next town to visit some relatives. It was just as the sun was going down, when I felt someone push me down from behind.” She ducked under a piece of branch as they continued on.
“Well?” inquired Matt, sounding exasperated.
“I was attacked by a vampire.”
This time, there was silence from the younger boy as he tried to absorb that information. “Oh,” was all he managed to get out.
“What are you thinking?” The woman started to look anxious. “You don’t think that I’ll turn into a vampire, do you?” They crunched there way through a slightly open field, and Matt realized that he could indeed see the full moon in the sky. It was round and full and a bright pure white, silently lending Matt strength.
“Oh, that’s an old myth,” scoffed Matt, though perhaps hesitating for just a moment. He tried to act normal while thinking of what to do. “Everyone knows that vampires kill for food, nothing more.” he paused, and tried to think of something to say to change the topic. “What’s your name?” was all that he could come up with.
“I’m Michelle,” came the reply. For a moment, there was silence.
“I’m Matt,” said the boy after an uncomfortable pause.
“What town were you trying to get to?”
“It doesn’t matter now, I just want to get back somewhere with people.”
Matt looked up at the moon again, which was now visible through the very tops of the trees. He studied its position in the sky, and guessed an approximate time. “Alright, come on then.”
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Yes,” lied Matt as he searched his brain for information on vampires. Sunrise was in about an hour—the sun killed vampires, didn’t it?
As if she had heard selected bits of the younger boy’s thoughts, Michelle licked her lips nervously. “What if it is true, and I am going to be a vampire?”
“I really don’t think it is. But if I’m wrong, well then, we’ll make sure that you’re inside when the sun rises.” Matt made sure that he sounded certain as he strode on.
“Wait a moment. I can’t keep going.” Michelle felt around with her hands until she found a stump to sit on. “I have to rest.”
Matt paused a moment, and leaned back against a tree as Michelle tried to catch her breath, letting out her breath in a gasping, gulping manner. Her face was pale, and beads of perspiration were on her forehead. “Why aren’t you tired?”
“I’m in good shape I guess,” responded Matt. “And you’re hurt.”
Michelle paused for a moment, but nodded at that. Abruptly, she asked, “Do you know when sunrise is?”
“Oh, not for another several hours,” Matt lied smoothly. You’re getting better at this, he congratulated himself. “We have plenty of time.”
Michelle nodded, still trying to recover as her white face still let off sweat. “Okay, I’m ready to get going again. We can’t waste time.”
“No, we can’t,” agreed Matt. Listening carefully, he looked around. He was realizing ever so slowly that his hearing was better than Michelle’s. What he heard now was the normal village sounds—the hum of a generator, the squeaking of gates, and some loud talking. It was very faint; he only just heard it over the rustling of wind through the trees and animals through the trees. The sounds, however, were there, towards the east.
“This way,” he said, leading his new friend west. They walked through the forest, stopping to rest every time Michelle couldn’t go any longer. Each time, Matt noted how much closer to sunrise it was.
“Its getting lighter isn’t it?” asked Michelle. “I can see the sky getting lighter.”
“No, it’s just the moon I think. Or your imagination,” answered Matt smoothly. “There’s nothing to worry about, I know what I’m doing.”
“No, I can see it! It’s getting lighter! But— she stopped, and her face slowly started to change as the realization of what happened had sunk in. “No! We’re too far away from everything! You tricked me!” she tried to calm herself and failed.
Matt was unsympathetic. “I did what I had to. You were a danger.”
“I’m myself! I wouldn’t have hurt anyone!”
The sun started to rise, casting a yellow light over everything. Matt smiled, turning to look at Michelle. Suddenly, he realized that her skin was feeling oddly prickly. He fell to the ground as a wave of memories swept over him. He suddenly remembered prowling through the night, hunting, and attacking Michelle. He ran his tongue over his teeth, and suddenly noticed that two of his teeth were long, almost pointy.
His eyes begged forgiveness from the older woman as her body slowly turned to dust.
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