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And You became my Dawn By lailamehtaab Characters: 13899

Updated: 2017-12-05 12:06

Edited by

"Sandal! Listen. You have to identify Shoaib“s body so we can complete the formalities and take them home. Okay? Everyone is waiting there. Your mother is waiting. We have to hurry." Says a familiar masculine voice.

"Let“s go, Sandal." Says a feminine voice.



White sheets and red stains.

Blood stained white sheets...... as far as I see.

"This way." A masculine voice said.

In the corner, I saw bodies with their hands uncovered.

"Sandal! Look, their hands. Can you recognize which one is Shoaib“s?" Someone asked me.

"The third hand. It“s..... Shoaib“s watch. But...... why here? ........ why does he have blood on his hand? What happened to his hand? Why......"

"Don“t touch! He was shot on the hand and ......." a voice said.

My eyes shot open as I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Like someone had squeezed my heart. Clutching my bedspread, I sit straight, trying to calm my heavy breaths.

Ya Allah.....

Suddenly, the speakers of the mosque switched on and the Fajar Azaan started. Slowly, I got up from the bed and open the window. I have always loved hearing the voices of Azaan coming from mosques and its echoes in the silence of dawn.

I close my eyes, feeling the cold breeze caress my face. It“s like all my pain flew away with it and I am in peace. At this moment, it“s just me and my Allah, calling me to him and everything else has vanished.

I stood there, closing my eyes for don“t know how long when a pair of small hand embraces me from behind. I opened my eyes.

"Assalm o Alaikum, bajjo." Hareem says as she tried to squeeze me. It makes me smile, normally she does that when she wants something.

"Wallaikum Assalam! I was about to wake you up."


"What happened, Hareem? Do you need anything?"

"Na-ah! I don“t need. You need."

"I need what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A hug." She says, squeezing me a little harder.

"Okay! And may I ask you why I need a hug?" I asked, holding both of her hands.

"Cause you had a bad dream." She said in a low voice and I kept silent.

"Hey, bajjo!" After a moment, she calls me again.


"You smell like flowers." She says slyly and it made me chuckle.

"Hareem, what are you? A dog?" I asked her jokingly.

"Nope! A cute little puppy."

"Okay! Then what does my cute little puppy say about Areeba appi?"

"A roasted chicken that was burnt during cooking." She said bluntly and I hit her hand which was still around my waist. Both of them had never got along, they are used to fighting for every little thing.

"I heard that, shortie!" We both hear a voice and turn around to see Areeba standing at the door. Hareem is quite small for her age, she will be twelve this year but looks like ten years old and she doesn“t like the fact that she is small. She stuck out her tongue to Areeba and ran into the bathroom.

"Assalam o Allaikum bajjo, you have a moment?" Areeba asks me, coming into the room.

"Wallaikum Assalam, Yes!"

"Bujjo, what happened yesterday? What made you faint and where had you met Zohma baji?" I was expecting it. She always does that mother type interrogation. Especially after the death of Papa and Shoaib.

"Apparently Zohma is my boss“s sister and our meeting yesterday was a coincidence."

"You mean Ahmed Wali“s sister? No way." Her eyes widened.

"Yes, way! It was a shock to me too you know. I never thought that a dear friend of mine would be a sister of a jerk like him." I said, sitting on the bed and she chuckled.

"Tell me bajjo, why do you hate him so much?"

"I don“t know if it“s hate or what. It“s just whenever I see him, I feel like hitting him with the nearest thing I could grab. You know, it“s the first time of me hating a person like this."

"No, it“s not. You said the same thing about Samad too. Remember your classmate?" she says, trying to hide her smile.

"He was a different story, Areeba."

"Ahan! So....Bajjo, tell me. Is he really handsome?" She asks, sitting on the bed beside me.

"Says who?"

"Says Sobia baji."

"Then go and ask her, because I don“t know if he is handsome or not. People have d

e says, raising an eyebrow.

"If I am going to wear it, then I“ll be paying for it."

He glared at me for a brief moment but didn“t respond. Then he puts my card in the dress bag and gave his credit card to the cashier.

Does he think I can“t pay for my dress?

I frowned at him. I had never been fond of people aside from my family and friends spending their money on me and especially rich people like him. Also, Sir Ahmed is not my family, neither is he my friend.

Without thinking, I turned on my heels and walk back to pick a dress I liked the most in this place. It was a tea pink colour dress with light hand embroidery on it. Looking at the price tag, I gulped. It is double in price from the dress Sir has bought for me.

I am going to regret this later!

I paid for the dress while Sir stands silently beside me fully annoyed me.

When we got out, he drags me to buy matching sandals and clutch. This time, he chooses probably one of the most expensive pairs of sandals and clutch.

Is this a game for him???

"Sir, that“s too much. You shouldn“t waste your money like this." I finally was able to say.

"It“s my money, Sandal! I don“t want to hear from you on how to spend it. And if you“re thinking that I am doing this for you, then don“t get overboard. It“s not for you, it“s for work. I don“t want to build a bad impression." He replies in a calm voice.

Go to hell, idiot!

I walked away from him. Taking out my phone, I called Areeba.

"Assalam o Alaikum!"

"Wallaikum Assalam! Areeba, listen. You go with Hareem today to the doctor. I am coming home early so I"ll take care of Ami. Later, go to the market and ask Sobia baji if she can help you. I“ll tell you the details on texts, okay?"

"Okay bajjo." Areeba says.

I turn back and find Sir standing there.

"Shall we go?" He asks and I nodded.

Afterwards, I was dropped home. The car ride was silent and uncomfortable as he kept glancing at me from time to time with a triumphant look on his face. It made me self-conscious and somewhat angry. I thank Allah when I got off from the car.

"Allah Haffiz, Sandal." I heard his voice from behind. I froze for a moment then turned to the car again.

"Allah Haffiz, Sir." I said. He nodded and the car moves forward.

Walking home, I looked at the bags in my hands.

I wonder what he will do when he notices.


Assalam o allaikum and hello people:

Thanks for the readers who are not bore from the story and still reading it. All of you are really respectable to me because it“s my first time to write a story.

I am used to telling stories but writing one is a whole different thing and it“s hard too. So, thanks once again


Have a nice Saturday night.

Take care :)

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