Deceived; Chapter 30

"Ghaneya?!"

A voice came from my bedroom.

"Ghaneya, where are you?!"

I finally recognized the audible voice; it was Lucy, my housemaid.

Her vocal sounds forced my hands to loosen around my neck.

I looked at myself at my nearby mirror, and noticed a thick, circular, red mark around my neck.

The palms of my hands squeezing it was the ultimate cause.

I exited the bathroom and listened to what Lucy had to say.

"Your father called, he changed his flight to tomorrow."

My mind ignored it. I didn't care.

Lucy insisted to bring me some snacks, but I turned the offer down.

I had no craving or desire.

My appetite vanished.

My heart was stolen.

It seems that everything was taken away from me.

My maidenhood, my chastity, my love, and my dear mother.

I'm in need of her, so badly.

At this very moment, I'm weak, delicate, vulnerable, and guilty.
If only I could run into her arms and sob, for as long as I want, as long as she would never leave me again.

My heart aches whenever my mind thinks back to the two people I loved dearly, leaving me stranded.

-

I opened the switch to my laptop's charger and lifted the top lid screen.

It's been quite a while ever since I entered the Internet universe.

While I surfed the web for a while, a random pop up page appeared.

The topic caught me eye.

"Young teenager saved by God"

I took a few moments to ponder the text.

A young girl, around my age, turned to God when she was in severe trouble. She was in an internal conflict with her self and mind. She rejected the need of education, the need of love, and the need of life.

For a while I thought, "This would never work, they're only coincidences."

But then I looked back at the last time I took some time to pray to God.

The last time I actually took my precious time to praise God was about 3 months ago, which is unbelievable because that's when Fouad and I began communicating.

I guess he took my mind off what really matters, my creator, my prophet, and his message.

I wanted my old life back.

I would do absolutely anything to bring back my old self.

The girl with a mother, the girl with a trustworthy relationship with her father, the girl with stable, cheerful moods, the girl that never went through depression, the girl who was loved by everyone, and most importantly, the young girl that never loved.

Now, that is the most essential to me, right now.

I thought it was too late to bring it all back, but you know what they say, "Don't wait for the perfect moment, take the moment and make it perfect."

I rinsed the required places of my body parts, closed the sink tap and unfolded the cloth beside my bedside table, sitting in a wooden basket since forever.

Without even starting, I felt safe and protected.

I stood in my proper position, fixed the carpet and began reciting, "...بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم"