[~Zaria~]

dear brothers and sisters,

The time to read and vote for your favorite story is here, alhamdulillah!

This year we have had 3 entries - jazakAllahu khair to all those who have participated. YOU have made this contest possible

So, lets get started....

The stories will be posted in the order that they were received.
This thread is for voting, and not for discussion.

Please post your comments/ feedback in this thread in shaa Allah: http://www.islamicboard.com/creativ...ntest-2014-discussion-thread.html#post1607012

Let the voting begin!

 

[~Zaria~]

Voice from the past
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Years ago, I was spending my summer vacation at the country side,
in a small old cottage in the middle of the forest.
Those were sunny and happy days; I worked some in the garden,
walked in the forest, swam on the lake, went to fishing, and collected
fresh flowers every evening to the pots, to bring fresh smell in my tiny bedroom.
I painted the wall of that cottage blue as the sky, sat at the evenings
in my small kitchen, drinking tea made from fresh herbs and flowers
and read old books (what my mom, grand mom, and great grand
moms read when they were children).

After working all the day, having tea and read some, I went to my bed
in the very small bedroom (there was space only for bed, little table
beside of the bed and the wardrobe, made by my grandfather when
he was young man). On the wall, beside my bed was the tapestry,
which was made over 100 years ago. I loved it so much. I have been
told it was the mother of my father who made it; she made it when
she was young in my age, for her wedding.

One night, I met my ancestor.

At the evening, I went to sleep, very tired after all work during
the day, smelling the flowers, I closed my eyes. Soon, something
happened, the whole cottage was full of light, I heard a voice. That
voice called me by my name and asked to come to the kitchen. So I
woke up and let them in.

There, on the old chair was sitting a very old lady. I had no clue who
she was or how she was there. I sat down and asked if she wants
some tea or coffee but she never wanted anything.

"I am Anna, your great grandmother from the past and I came here to thank you."
"Thank me? But... what have I done..." I asked.

"Do you know my name?" I was stunning and said: "Yes I know. I have seen it your name from the gravestone when I have put some flowers to there... are you a ghost?"
"Ghosts don’t exist. I am the voice. You don´t understand it, but it is not important. I came from the past to thank you; you are the first from my family who actually made such a thing."
"I made what? I don´t understand" I said and was thinking WHAT
have I put in my evening tea? Is this a dream?

"No this is not dream my dear", said that old lady. "Let me tell you
story from my past which is also your past.

“When I was young, life was very different like it is now, people
weren´t free to choose, we had to follow what our parents want,
all family wants, the society wants. I was born to quite poor family, we were from the
servant class, we were working from the beginning to the last breath,
we couldn’t choose how to live, who to marry, or to what to believe.”

That old lady was quiet for some moments, and I was looking in her
eyes, they were blue as the sky - just the same color I painted at the walls.

"When I was young, I always wanted to know, I was thirsty for the
knowledge but I had so little possibilities to get it, in my time as I was
born as a girl, I never studied in any schools, there were schools only
for boys, and rich families send their sons to there, poor girls in 1863
hadn´t any way to study.

The priest here taught me to read, but the only book I had was the
Bible, So I read it, but something in my heart told me it wasn´t the
whole story, There was something more.

I tried to ask some questions to the priest, but then I saw he didn´t
like them, I asked something I should not ask, So, I tried to think
about them by my own."

"I have seen many evenings of how you touch that tapestry on the
wall, you like it, you know it is some kind of connection to the person who made it."

"Yes that what I was thinking", I whispered.

"Listen, child of my family; I have walked with you on the fields and
the forest and I have seen how similar you are to how I was long time
ago, we both like to listen to the whispers of the nature, walk alone
and find knowledge, and, you are now what I so passionately wanted."

"Sorry, what is that?" I asked. Was that something bad or good about.

"Don´t worry dear. I spent all my life looking for same truth you have
now, in my last years I finally found it...but as I was too uneducated, I couldn´t use it as I liked. You can read and you have read just the right book, the book I
wanted to read the most, I am proud of you, my sister in the future."

She stood up and smiled.

"You are a Muslim; remember me when you have difficult times.
I too always wanted to be, but I didn´t get any knowledge. Make
Duaa for me that Our Creator will have mercy on an old lady without knowledge."

Then she disappeared and I was sitting in the darkness in my little
cottage alone. I made Duaa to her and to all sisters in the past, the
present and the future for those who want and will want to know more
about this right path called Islam; understanding how much more
easily it was for me.

I can read.

 

[~Zaria~]

Is life a struggle?
​

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​

Saba lay on her bed thinking why life had to be so difficult. She often thought about life, Allah and all the difficulties from whom no one could escape.

She woke up slowly rubbing her eyes and called Asma, her lovely friend. “Please put the phone on conference call. Come to my house with Asma . We will study together for the upcoming examinations. I am really afraid.”

“The syllabus is vast but Allah will help us.” consoled Asma. We often wondered how she could always look at the positive side of life so easily without any complain.

“Yeah Asma is right .Do your best and leave the rest on Allah.” I replied.

“”OK! Bye! We’ll meet at 8:00 am” Saba said.

“Allah Hafiz” said Asma and left the conversation.

We were friends and Asma have the idea of starting a small Quran classes and this helped us to know about Allah about Islam. I sometimes felt bad because I didn't know anything about Islam or maybe that there was always something you can learn. We didn’t know when we became such a good friends and helped each other in good deeds.

Frankly I couldn't talk about Islam to anyone and share my views except them. To some extent it was our fault that whenever I tried to urge someone to follow Islamic way they would take it the aggressive way. I stopped trying to help people in that way just not to spoil my relationship with others

---------------------------------------

Saba was chatting with her mother when she heard the call from prayer from the adjacent mosque. She always dreamt that her husband must be a hafiz or someone who can recite Holy Quran in a manner that if anyone heard it he should not be able to stop himself from crying. She got up started performing ablution and requested her mother to join her.

Her mother often wondered how she had become such a good Muslim though she failed her the basics of Islam and Saba’s father worked abroad..

The stress of studies started affecting her faith. When I reminded her about prayers she would go and wrap up the prayer as soon as possible. I would no longer see the hope and belief in her eyes. Her eyes lost the shine and the noor of faith.

-------------

We were walking towards the library and Saba started the conversation.

“Why can’t they just be quite and do something productive?”

Akram and his friends were sitting near the tree laughing and talking loudly. They were always a nuisance to the entire classmate. No one ever complained about them though they often made fun of everyone.

“They are some bunch of young guys who are astray and they just don’t care if they be of any use to anyone.” I said.

“Don’t say like that maybe they could become good after sometime or maybe better than us.
We should never judge anyone. Allah does not judge anyone until someone’s life is over. Who are we to judge?” argued Asma.

“Please don’t say that Asma. It’s so obvious just look at them.” said Saba.

“Please stop this. We don’t have to do anything with them. We are no one to judge them. Come in we’ll read some good books instead of chatting about guys.” I tried to create some humor.

Asma and Saba smiled and we went in.

We took the books and sat on the stairs near the grass. Asma was completely absorbed in reading the book when I saw a green color lizard with white spots crawling on the wall. I wasn’t much afraid and so I asked Asma and Saba to have a look at it.

Saba uttered a squeal and quickly ran upstairs but we could still see her. I could not stop myself from laughing. Everyone was staring at her.

“Please do something and throw it away. It’s so ugly and creepy. “ Saba pleaded us to remove it from her sight.

Asma scolded me “Why did you tell her that there was a lizard? You know that she has a phobia of lizards. Saba be calm. I’ll remove it from there.”

Asma took a stick slowly touched the lizard and all the girls started shouting madly as if it was a snake. It started crawling away to t he little hole of the wall.

-------------

She arrived at college and was surprised to see everyone bent in prayer. She had a mini heart attack. She came to me in a state of fear and asked me “What happened to everyone? Is everything fine?”

My lips trembled and I tried to speak but in vain. I couldn't speak.

She shook me with her hands desperately and asked me “Tell me something!!”

I gathered courage and said “Asma, our friend did not wake up from her sleep.”

Saba sat down in despair. We never knew something could affect us something. There was a lot of pain in her eyes and I could clearly see it. We felt that our life was shattered.


That night Saba and I were slowly walking home. Suddenly a car dashed past us and I fell down. The driver stopped the car and Saba scolded him while he simply stared at her with no guilt. There were some wounds in my hands.

I went home and knocked the door. Nimra, my younger sister opened the door and hugged me.

“Assalamualaikum! I want to ask you something” said Nimra holding my hand and looking at me with wide eyes filled with enthusiam.

“Walaikum Assalam”

“My teacher told me that Allah is our friend and we should follow whatever He says in the Quran and Satan is our enemy. Why?” she asked innocently.

She looked at me with great excitement.

“Shaytan is our enemy and we should defeat him by not listening to him and the excuses and negative thoughts which he puts in our mind. “ I replied.

I remembered how we loved Allah for every little thing and as you grow up you start forgetting all the favors he did to you. I went to my room and had my dinner.

--------------------------------------

I was crying bitterly. Life causes great suffering or that no one lessen my pain except Allah. I knew the wound on my hand wasn't that which made me cry but maybe the wound in my heart. I didn't feel much pain until I reached home. Later I felt pain while holding a glass of water, eating or offering prayer. I didn't know that such a small wound would cause so much pain maybe that wasn't the pain caused by the wound.. I tried to be busy so that I would forget everything that happened in these hours. I thanked Allah and prayed for all those people with disabilities they fight a war daily just to survive. Being a Muslim seemed a struggle.

Whenever I felt that life is really difficult and I can’t handle it myself. It was a cold night and I slowly climbed the stairs went to the terrace or somewhere alone and tell all my problems to Allah. I never felt anyone so worthy of telling my problems to someone other than Allah. I would never know when I would cry all together for hours but I felt relieved at the end. I always knew he was seeing and he would forgive me. I never cried in front of anyone whatever the condition might be but I have never stopped myself from crying in front of Allah.

It made me feel closer to Him. Whatever I did I never felt satisfied until I prayed to Him. Don’t depend on anyone except Allah because you know He won’t disappoint you.

---

I was studying for the upcoming exams when I heard the call for prayer. I stopped and offered prayer. I recalled last Saturday when Asma and Saba came to my house for the Quran classes.

I called Saba though I knew that she would not be in a position to come to my house again.

I greeted “ Assalamualaikum.”

She said “ Walaikum Assalam.” in a low tone.

“Tomorrow is a weekend so would you come to my house for the Islamic classes.”

“No, I don’t feel like it.”

“Saba listen to me I know you are in a gloomy mood but we have to overcome this.”

“No, I have some work. Bye! ”

This would remind her of all those days we spent together. I asked her to come to my house for the classes. She refused giving an excuse of her health.


--------------------------

I saw Saba rarely from then and our final exams were next week. I met her in the examination hall.

She asked me “Why? Allah wants us to suffer so much? Does he want us to suffer in hell?”

I tried to answer her “Life is a test and we have to pass this life as a traveler. Allah wants us to follow Allah and share our problems with Him. Only those who do wrong suffer in hell.”

“OH! Is it so? Why did Asma die at such an age? She never missed a prayer or talked to anyone rudely. Why has god given him a painful death?”

“Everything happens for a reason.” Islam is easy. It’s we who make it difficult by looking at things that are not made for us. Don’t look at the things that Allah made for the people who went astray. If you follow Islam truly with your heart it won’t be difficult. It will give mankind the peace that he always craved for. Dying early doesn't mean he wanted to punish you.”

Saba stood silently and was staring at the chair as if she was thinking about something.

The bell rang and everyone went to their seats.

---------------------------------------

It was writing our English exam when I saw a quote in the question paper, it asked which was a famous philosopher who said that quote.

We were sitting on the terrace staring at the dark sky counting the stars.

Asma said me “You should become a philosopher.”

I exclaimed in an irritated way. “Aah! Don’t say that you know that I got that advice from so many people. “

Saba said “You two could become good philosophers but I am not interested.”

“It’s your choice. You made us your friends.” I said to her in a humorous way.

Suddenly I heard my name and woke up from my memories. The invigilator told me that just 10 minutes where left. I saw Saba, she wasn’t writing anything. I just prayed for her and continued my exam.

----------------------------------------------------

Saba was at her home. She rose to take her book from the self when she saw the Noble Quran has gathered dust. She took it and started to remove the dust and thought for a second when was the last time she read it. She couldn’t answer that. She felt something and opened the Quran.

And whoever submits his face to Allah while he is a doer of good - then he has grasped the most trustworthy handhold. And to Allah will be the outcome of [all] matters.
(Surah Luqman 31:22)

She went on reciting Quran and a tear from her eye rolled down from her cheeks. She closed it with great respect and then sat down. She remembered all that had happened and how she could accuse Allah for all that. She cried and asked Allah’s forgiveness. She offered Salat Tauba and made a promise that whatever might happen she would turn only to Allah for help and be patient.

-------

The day of the examination result came and we were eagerly waiting to check our result. I was astonished when I saw that Asma has failed. She was great at academics. Asma’s death was a great blow to us, it took a long time for us to recover. I looked at her. She looked at the computer screen for a while and slowly uttered “Alhamdullillah”.

“I’ll write the examination next month and pass this difficulty Inshallah. “she said and went away.

--------------------------

It was a Friday, I didn’t know that her parents would allow her to fulfill all her wishes of her dream marriage which we always talked about. We often prayed to Allah that our marriage should take place in a simple and Islamic way. The mosque was filled with people in white dresses. The bride was too dressed in a beautiful white gown and seated beside the groom who also looked great with a beard. I rubbed my eyes in wonder and could see that it was Akram .They looked great together.

We rarely met after her marriage. We both were busy as we got really busy with our jobs. Later she told me that she had married Akram after 3 years of our college. She told me that now he is working in U.S.A and her mother saw his alliance when she was searching for a groom. It was really weird but they accepted it.

I saw that noor on her face when I attended the reception. I thanked Allah for everything that happened in my life because of it I could become what I am today.
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On the other corner of the world Saba stared at the sky at night trying to count the stars remembering the memories of her friends. She prayed for Asma and Saba. She was still striving but had hope in Allah that her reward was waiting for her in Jannah. She now expected the best from Allah and reminded herself “Allah will help us”.

Struggles of life don’t end till we die. Our faith gives us the strength to survive in this world. Don’t expect ease in this world because it’s temporary. Allah is the one who we need to ask everything from.

I often think about Asma and our great days of friendship. Our faith has strengthened immensely. We departed as we got married. Now I am here telling you the story of my friend, Asma who died a Muslim and Saba who regained her faith. I don’t know where she is. All I could do is pray for her. Now I want you to believe in Allah and show your faith in your actions.

May Allah help us gain victory over all the struggles of life and die a Muslim.
Ameen

 

[~Zaria~]

On the Trail of Snowden
​

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​

“Ok you got the plan, C?” Benedict Eisenhower asked

“Yup. Got it all. Now hope things go according to plan,” Chelsea answered. She knew what she had to do – find Snowden and arrest him and bring him to justice – and though she’d been in far more difficult and dangerous situations than this before, but was a bit skittish about this one. Being stuck in an airport wasn’t her idea of the perfect holiday, but that was what she had to do. She only hoped she would get everything wrapped up quickly. If she was lucky, she would be in the right place to find Snowden. If not, then it was an effort wasted.

“Take this map. It’s of the airport transit area.” Ben handed her a folded paper. Opening it up, she saw it was a floor map. She looked at him questioningly.

“It’s an old blueprint we were able to get. We’ll see if we can find others to assist you in your search.”

“You want me to crawl through ventilators?” she asked. Her tiny frame would probably enable her to do that but she had a childhood fear of dark places.

“Not really, but you may have to do all sort of things. We don’t want this project to get wasted.”

She shrugged. Not if I can help it, she thought. But this role was important to her. It would help her get into the senior position and that what she had been dreaming of since she joined the agency. How far would she go to get that? Just don’t get yourself killed, she thought. Recognition isn’t everything. But it was to her. How she longed to be amongst those spies who went so far to do what was right for their country.

She folded the paper back and slipped it into her folder. Then taking her bag filled with the kinds of things a person on holiday would, C - a nickname she was known by everyone at the intelligence agency - went to her car for the drive to the airport. Dumping the bag in the back seat, she entered. C was an undercover intelligence agent – a well trusted agent who didn’t fail at what she started. She was a take charge person and this was something she had volunteered to do for the security of the United States – and to get the chance to enter the senior level in the intelligence agency.

But why was she nervous this time? She couldn’t understand the nerves. Was it because this was such a public case? Snowden was a name known to just about every person in the world. And likewise, when she accomplished her mission, she would be no longer hidden – everyone would know her and who she was. 8 years in the intelligence agency working undercover and this might be the first time she risked going public. But she had to do this. She was possibly the only one who wouldn’t attract suspicion.

She looked into the mirror and brushed a red-gold strand from her face. Her face covered in glamorous make-up of the most expensive brands, the 28 year old looked more like a successful businesswoman than an undercover spy. Sighing deeply, she put the car into drive and drove off.


An hour later, she was seated in the departure section of the airport, waiting for her plane. “Hi, there,” a man in his mid-20s came over. “Mind if I sit down?” he sat down without waiting for her reply. “You also going to Thailand?”

Uh oh the last thing she needed was making friends on this trip. She needed to be alone and as invisible as possible. Shrugging, she turned to stare out of the window at the many planes waiting there.

“I’m Mike. I’m going to Thailand for a couple weeks. Taking time off from study.” He continued.

She ignored him and wondered why some people couldn’t get the message. Just then her cell phone rang.

“C, a reminder, be as discreet as possible.” Ben’s whisper came into her hear.

“You telling me?” she replied irritably, already pissed off at the stranger who had interrupted her earlier but glad that the phone had rung. “We’ll discuss it when I see you at Lisbon.” It was the first thing that came to her mind. She was on her way to Thailand where she would be spending a week, before taking the flight to Prague. And she would be stopping over at the dreaded Moscow Sheremetyevo international airport transit area.

“Just avoid making friends. Don’t drive attention to yourself.”

“Uhuh” she replied, then clicked the phone off before switching it off. She was already all nerves and didn’t want anything making her more anxious.

“Your boyfriend.” The nosy man next to her said.

“Ex-” she replied, before grabbing her bag and getting up. She might as well check out the magazines at the shops instead of chatting up with strangers. Luckily she didn’t have to wait long before boarding began.

“Whew,” she said when she settled in her business class seat, relieved to finally be away from obnoxious travelers. She might as well enjoy her trip while she could. Taking the magazine she had just bought from her new tote bag, she relaxed and started reading. A few more hours and she’d be in Bangkok.

***
The week in Bangkok went by smoothly. She had to make a tourist image for herself and she made sure to go on every tourist outing. Her baggage size increased due to the shopping she had done during her stay. She’d spent a fortune there, and some of the items she had gotten she had absolutely no need for. No doubt they’d end up in the trash once she got out of this. She hopped the agency would remit the amount she’d just wasted.

Finally the day of the flight came. She was glad that she was getting out of there. Although the place was extremely likeable, but she’d been such a nervous wreck she didn’t enjoy anything. Maybe someday she’d return but for now she was glad to be leaving. And as she boarded the plane, she couldn’t help fight the butterflies in her belly no matter what. She needed something to get her mind off her mission. Just before takeoff, her partner called to ask how things were going. “I just can’t get this awful feeling off.” She whispered into the phone.

“Like?”

“I don’t know. I’m just nervous.”

“Relax. Everything’ll be fine.”

Sighing she hung up the phone.

***
At Sheremetyevo airport.

“Three-hours until your flight to Prague,” the stewardess eyed her curiously. Chelsea supposed they did the same with all passengers. Who knew how many came hoping for a rendezvous with Mr. Snowden.

“You can wait in the lounge.”

C nodded.

“It’s this way,” the stewardess went on. “Unless you want to rest at the hotel.”
“I’ll wait in the lounge.” C answered. “I think I’ll be more comfortable there. This place is notorious for its inconvenience.”

C tried her best to relax in the transit waiting area. Ordering an overly priced snack, she tried to pass the time. In a bit, the announcement would come. Anytime now. That was what she’d been informed. But the time kept passing – very slowly – but there was no announcement.

Until, finally she was informed that her plane was ready for departure. Grabbing her bags, she made her way to the plane. What was up? She wondered while trying to keep her surprise from showing. Where was the emergency that would keep her at the airport for a while?

Once on the flight she listened to all the announcements but none came other than the ordinary. Finally her plane took off. What the f---? She wondered. What had just happened? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“Would you like something to drink?” A steward asked once they were in the air.

“Yes,” she almost shouted. “I’d like a zesty drink.”

The steward poured it and said “enjoy your flight,” before heading on.

Enjoy my flight? C wondered. She wanted to scream. What was this all about? Had the plan been cancelled? Why hadn’t she been informed? She wondered, resting on the headrest, as the plane continued to take altitude. But just then, a sudden shaking happened before the emergency announcement came through. Announcing that there was a problem and that the passengers should be seated with their seatbelts fastened and shouldn’t worry and that they had to make an emergency landing. Then the plane started going downward a bit too fast. She held onto her seat, hoping the plane would land safely and they all didn’t die.

And they were back at Moscow’s airport, landing with a thud. Another announcement told them to get off the plane fast and not to try to retrieve their luggage. Well that was obvious. Whatever had gone wrong, the problem was no doubt still there. It was possible the plane would catch fire. All the passengers had questions. What had gone wrong? How soon would it be fixed? And everyone was eager to get off the plane as quickly as possible. Although none more eager than her.

Chelsea hopped out of her seat, grabbing her tote bag but leaving her other baggage in the overhead cabin. Then she scampered out of the plane along with the rest of the passengers, getting as far from the plane as quickly as possible.

“I’m glad I’m out in one piece,” She yelled. What were her colleagues thinking? Why not inform her beforehand that the emergency wouldn’t come until the flight took off?

And soon she was back in the waiting area of the dreaded airport.

Then she saw them. The paramedics. “Did anyone get hurt?” she asked those standing around her? But they didn’t have answers just as she didn’t.

“Did anyone get hurt?” she asked an airport employee.

“There were a few casualties.” She replied.

“How serious?”

“Were you flying with someone?”

“No, but I’d like to know.”

“Some people at the back got badly hurt. Some critically. A few died.”

“Died?!” Chelsea couldn’t believe her ears. Her mission had caused deaths. What was this? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Where was the minor technical error that would keep her stranded for a day or two? Here there was a massive emergency resulting in injured and dead!

Now she was really strung-up. Maddeningly angry. She needed answers from her partners about this.

Fiddling around with her cell, she shunned the urge to call her partner and inquire. Not now. Not until she was alone in her room. She couldn’t attract attention or she’d definitely blow her cover. But suddenly she wondered if that was what she wanted to do. Shaking her head, she sat down and waited silently.

After a while, someone from the airlines informed the passengers that their plane wouldn’t be ready for take-off until the next day at least. “We are really sorry. We are trying to fix you with connecting flights as soon as possible.” They told the angry passengers. “The airlines will pay for your stay at the hotel.”

“Oh ****!” shouted the passengers. Angry voices filled the area. Finally, the passengers relented and allowed to be led to the dreaded hotel. There was special treatment of these passengers and the hotel management insisted that their needs would be fulfilled.

“We have a VIP section with a Gym and swimming pool. You may use it in the afternoon. And there’s a restaurant. Buffet dinner free for passengers of flight 211.”

The special treatment was a given. After all, the airlines was in danger of losing business, not one it was likely to risk doing.

And that was how Chelsea got into the 3rd floor hotel room who knew for how long. One problem was momentarily solved. But the other was possibly even more difficult. How to spot Snowden? Would he be anywhere where she might run into him? She had a few hours before she could go to the VIP area.

Switching on her phone she called Ben.

“What was that all about?”

“**** Chelsea couldn’t you turn your phone on sooner. We were worried.”

“I’m fine. But not what I can say for others. This mission cost us some lives.”

“Yeah, we heard. Nine people died.” Ben said casually.

“That’s terrible. Why the emergency landing? That wasn’t how we had planned it.”

“No other way to get you inside the right place without causing suspicion.”

“OMG I can’t believe how you can say that so easily! People have died. We caused deaths, Ben,” she wailed softly.

“Relax C. The end justifies the means. Collateral damage.”

“No it doesn’t. People died. Think of their families. It could’ve been me.”

“No it couldn’t. We placed you where you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“You mean you planned this all? Deaths and all?”

“It’s called preplanning. Just in case something went wrong. We didn’t initially plan to have people killed. But the possibility of casualties was there and it was high.”

“Ben, that’s murder.”

“Relax, Chelsea, what’s gotten into you? Get a drink or something. Rest for a bit. How soon can you go looking for Snowden?”

But Chelsea was crying. She’d faced death before. She’d even used a rifle in self-defense but never actually killed anyone – and never targeted an innocent person.

“Oh God,” she sobbed, “innocent people have died. What their families will be going through.” She sat on the bed unable to believe she was a part of the cause.

“Chelsea, sure you’re stronger than that. Stop it with the emotions. Think of all the people you’ll be saving. Gather your bearings. You have a mission to accomplish.”

“I need to go. Need to think.” She said.

“Don’t back down now. We’ve worked too hard.”

“Right,” she said. And killed some people in the process. Can’t waste all that, she thought to herself. Then hung up.

Next she called room service and ordered a coffee and some chocolate fudge. That always made her feel better. But she was starting to rethink her priorities. All of a sudden she didn’t want to accomplish this mission- didn’t want to find Snowden. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy. But what would she say to her boss. What would it do to her job? If she didn’t do her part, no doubt she’d lose her job. But did she even want to remain working for these sort of people? She was a confused mess then. Not knowing what she wanted.

She turned on her laptop and started going through the pictures that had been prepared. The various ways Snowden might look. Various types of beards, moustaches, haircuts, etc. Not the first time that she was going through those pictures. She’d studied them for days since they put her on this mission; she had to recognize Snowden no matter what he might be looking like. She couldn’t risk missing him. But now she looked at them with a new mindset. Suddenly she wanted to meet Snowden for other reasons. Discuss with him the situation and know his side of the story. She’d heard the agency’s side of the story far too many times though she wasn’t unaware of the whole account due to the wide scale newspaper coverage. And as she went through the pictures, she noticed she wasn’t upset anymore. Nor nervous. She felt altogether different. She was ready to complete this mission. Her own way.



Finally, the time had come to go looking for him in the VIP area and dining area. She’d have until 10 that evening.

Going down to the reception she met many of the other passengers waiting for someone to lead them to the VIP area. The rooms were small and crammed and not very comfortable. This was a hotel where people stayed a few hours at most. Not one to provide much comfort.

A few minutes later, they were on their way to the Gym area. The place had a small fitness center, swimming pool, and a pool table. Something to provide special guests with adequate exercise. She walked around the fitness center, occasionally using one or another machine in the room. Then she checked out the pool area and the swimming pool.

Throughout, she observed every person in the place but to her dismay no one looked even remotely like Snowden. Either he didn’t come here today or he’d had a massive plastic surgery or he wore a mask. He wasn’t there.

At 8, she went to the dining area to eat dinner. Once again she watched the guests to see if she could find the man she was looking for but to no avail. He simply wasn’t there. But then that would be logical. He must’ve been informed that there would be passengers from the plane that broke down and it was likely that he decided not to come down, if he ever frequented this area normally.

2 hours later and after having eaten too much and drank too much and chatted with too many other people simply to prolong her stay in the dining area, she was back to her room. She was too tired to even move. A shower should help relieve some of the aches of being in transit for so long. But before that, she had to update her partner. Opening her cell phone she dialed his number.

“Tell me it’s good news.”

“He wasn’t there.”

“Shit!”

“What did we expect? He’s a smart guy. Even if he comes to that part normally, he wouldn’t today.”

“You can try again tomorrow, C. Or walk the halls. or the ventilation.”

“I’ll be making people suspicious if I venture out too much. And I’m not sure if I’ll be here tomorrow night.”

“We’ll see what we can do to make your stay longer.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Someone like Snowden is hard to catch.”

Then she hung up. She knew what she had said was true. There was no way Snowden would risk alerting others of his whereabouts. But she wished she’d run into him. All of a sudden she was starting to admire the guy, what he’d done, his courage.

***

Chelsea was stuck at the airport for another day before her connection flight was arranged. The next afternoon was a repetition of the first. No sign of Snowden anywhere. Chelsea found herself disappointed. She was hoping that somehow she might run into him, although that was now highly unlikely. Why they even thought it would be possible was strange. No way that man would step in front of strangers so easily and blow his cover.

By the end of the evening she knew it had been wrong of her to come here. Not only did she not find Snowden but her visit had caused a human loss that couldn’t be recovered. Nine people had died and others were injured, some still in the hospital. What had she done? Why had they done this? Why couldn’t that have been avoided?

That night, as she waited for her departure time to approach, the answer to those questions were obvious. Because those lives didn’t matter. It didn’t matter who got hurt or who suffered losses. For some people, the end justified the means no matter what those means were, just as her colleague had said.

But now she knew that formula was wrong. Who decided what the end was? Who could claim that the “end” wouldn’t change? What evidence was there that the “end” was in everyone’s best interest and not just a few? And how could every “means” be justified? If a million people died in order to save a few or a particular lifestyle, could that be justified?

It was morally wrong. Nothing could justify the killing of innocent people who died in the process to attain some goal, no matter what the goal was. Crime simply couldn’t be justified.

And as she lay in her bed, Chelsea had some serious thinking to do, regarding her own part in the whole thing. Could she continue to work for such an organization? She knew that one way or another, she would be part of some task that caused loss or misery to someone. And she knew that that was something she couldn’t do. But what would be her course of action? Should she just inform the agency that she could no longer work with them? What about what had already taken place? The people that had been killed because of this mission? And many others who would die unknowingly because of other such missions.

The next morning, Chelsea knew what she had to do. There were still reporters at the airport, updating the process of flight arrangements and investigations going on about the broken down plane although the whole affair was subdued. And Chelsea decided to go public about what had really caused the accident. And then she took the flight to Iceland. Hoping she might get asylum there.

What would happen when her colleagues learned what she’d done? They’d no doubt be furious. What would become of her life? Would she get asylum? Time would tell. But she knew she’d done the right thing no matter what. She had no regrets

 

[~Zaria~]

Please cast your votes in the above poll.

Voting will end on: 24 November 2014, in shaa Allah.

You may share your thoughts and provide feedback in the following Discussion Thread: http://www.islamicboard.com/creativ...i-writing-contest-2014-discussion-thread.html

:jz: for your participation.

 

[Insaanah]

Almost just ten days left to vote!

 

[Muhaba]

The best story always wins

 

[~Zaria~]

Just 3 Days to go to vote for your favorite story!!
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[Muhaba]

time is running out. read these fantastic stories and vote. comment on the other thread.

 

[~Zaria~]

Assalamu-alaikum everyone,

Alhamdulillah, the 2014 Writing Contest has drawn to its close.

Our Winners are:

1st: On the Trail of Snowden - Sister Blue_rose

2nd: Voice from the Past - Sister herb

3rd: Is Life a Struggle - Sister Innocent Soul


CONGRATULATIONS!!!

​

Your immense patience during our many delays to release these results makes you winners as well!

JazakAllahu khair to the participants as well as those who took the time to read the entries, share their feedback and vote.

We hope to read much more from our talented writers, and to see many more entrants in the contests to come in shaa Allah.


:wa:

 

[greenhill]

Congratulations to Blue_rose, sister herb and innocent soul. All are podium sitters like the poetry contest!

Peace :shade:

 

[Muhaba]

Jazak Allaho khairan to those who voted and to those who read the stories. *cries tears of joy* I hope you all enjoyed reading them. And I hope next time we can have many more readers and voters.