childhood

9

Medicine for the Soul: Part II

Continued from ‘Medicine for the Soul: Part I‘. Please Allah, make the pain go away. This is the worst part. ~ The building in front of me looked so inconspicuous, so utterly normal and mundane that one could hardly have fathomed the horrors taking place within it. I emerged from the taxi, my legs like jelly and my arms stiff like frozen ice. I didn’t want to be there, anywhere near there, but at that moment in time, I thought I was doing the right thing. “Where are we?”...

8

Raindrops of Realization

I stepped onto the crowded bus and after weaving my way through chattering school kids, mothers carrying crying babies and elderly women clutching their bags, I finally heaved myself into a seat by a window. I was exhausted, soaked, and near to tears.  I had had a roller coaster of a day.  From this morning’s minor argument with my mum to the drenched revision notes lying in my bag which I had spent all morning on to a stupid misunderstanding with my best friend to the failed maths test...