Walking down the vacant corridors of my college, my heart was sinking with the horrible feeling of all that had happened today; the derogatory attitudes, the whispered insults and the random shove all seemed to be weighing down on me, and I couldn't help but allow a few tears to flow down. Not here, not in college.Wincing at the reminder how I hadn't even tried standing up for myself, I lazily managed to walk out of the college gates and fidgeted at the sight of my cousin, Sarah, standing near the door. She seemed to be scrolling down her mobile screen. Having no choice but to walk up to her, I quickly wiped my tears and hesitantly began heading towards her. I had to prepare myself for the insults. Sarah was my extremely bright cousin who was two grades ahead of me. She was a topper in her class and was adored by everyone. Unlike me, she had loads of friends and was considered the pride of her family. However, what rarely anyone back at home knew was that Sarah had gained some of her
Sometimes even the crowds start to haunt you. You feel your pain grow profound as the crowds suffocate you with their worldly choices. The terrifying judgment in the world's eyes, the constant feeling of being secretly criticized and compared with the ones who have hurt you, is heavy. But instead of getting caught in this drift, one should focus only on all earning the praises of our Almighty. Nothing else should matter.Everyone is so busy displaying themselves as the happiest ones in the world that they forget that their bragging can really hurt another. In attempting to get ahead, we are often pushing others down-breaking them.
The last day of my semester had turned out to be quite brutal. Sarah, hyped up with all the praises she had been getting lately, decided to play a wicked prank on me. Our cafeteria enjoyed the show that was played on my expense.Feeling extremely low and exhausted, I reached home. Walking into the living room, I saw mama collecting some religious books and placing her Tasbee in her bag. while papa was closing a suitcase that was placed on the couch. Zaid was sitting next to suitcase, doing something on Papa's phone.All my tiredness and pain replaced with sheer curiosity as I looked at my parents.
Fahad was only ten years old when his parents got divorced. Both of them immediately fled from their suffocating bond-mansion, leaving Fahad behind to be care taken by two guards, a cook, and a housekeeper. It was a devastating experience, wondering what he had done wrong...why his family left him. His wounds had grown even more profound as both of his parents found someone else to spend the rest of their lives with, and Fahad was left alone.Sometimes parents forget that in their own fights, it's the children that suffer...the children who have to pay the dire consequences. It was painful spending each day with people who were only there because they were being paid. Parents shouldn't do that. Children should be their top priority. The
"Mama, I did see someone in this room!""Mehreen, there is no one here," Mama roamed around my room. "See, nothing." She opened the bathroom door, making me frown."B-but..."
Fahad frowned as his bike drove by an arena where a group of police officers was standing next to parked cars.Narrowing his eyebrows, he stopped his bike and walked towards the police officers."What's going on?" He looked around, staring at the eerie house; the place was making him shudder."A young lady is trapped in that house," One of the elderly officers turned towards him. "Her family is sitting in the car...over there," He pointed. "They want our assistance. They are claiming something weird has locked their daughter in that house, but we don't know how to get to her out. The house seems to have non-penetrable and extremely solid walls. We are completely baffled. We don't have any idea what to do."Fahad turned back and tilted his head in thought. The girl was probably scared and lonely inside. He needed to help her.Nodding with the determination, he began to head towards the house while ignoring the curious gazes. All the police officers had immediately stopped talking and we
Usman had always been a reserved man; a man who valued his time and works so spoke a few of them. He adored his family, but, for him, emotions weren't meant to be worn on sleeves. His father was a hard-working labourer, and he had learned to work hard and act strong from a very small age. Yet, now, in a situation where his precious daughter was being kept locked up, he couldn't help but feel a bit weak. He was trying to strengthen his heart again by offering prayers, duas.He walked into room '202' of 'Murree Cottage Motel'. The police had arranged this place for his family to
Staring at the completely blank emptiness before me, I hurriedly slammed the door shut and began to back away from it in hurry."Did you see that? That's insane. There is something out there which both of us have no clues about. We have to get out of this place!"