She had been crying a lot lately, though she didn't understand why. For the past week, an unshakable cloud of confusion hung over her mind, making everything seem blurry and heavy. Sometimes, she felt tears welling up without reason, and other times, she just sat silently, lost in a maze of her own thoughts. It was as if her heart was silently screaming, but she didn't know who to tell—or if anyone would understand.Also she didn't know what is happening to her.
Depression had crept into her life quietly, like a shadow that followed her every step, yet she couldn't name it. She wondered, What's wrong with me?, is this anxiety or depression?But the answers didn't come.
One evening, her mother, noticing her silence, sat beside her gently and asked, "Rafiya, what's going on? You've been so quiet and upset these past few days'.
Rafiya looked down, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Nothing, Mama," she said softly, hoping to protect her mother from worry.
Her mother's eyes softened. "You're usually so full of life and laughter. "
Rafiya forced a smile but didn't say more. Instead, she retreated inward, feeling more alone than ever.
The next morning, Rafiya woke just before dawn around 5:30 o'clock. The quiet of the early hours wrapped around her like a fragile shield. She performed her Fajr prayer, letting the calmness seep into her restless soul. She recited a few verses from the Quran, finding a sliver of comfort in the sacred words. For the first time in days, she felt a flicker of peace.
By six, she was at her desk, opening her physics book. She was in 12th grade and preparing for NEET examination, knowing how crucial every hour of study was. Solving physics problems gave her a brief distraction from the turmoil inside. After finishing, she felt a slight uplift, but she knew it wouldn't last.
Breakfast was quiet. After breakfast, she moved on to Chemistry preparation. Later, she picked up a novel, immersing herself in the story as an escape from her own thoughts. Rafiya was the kind of girl who, once attached to something, found it hard to let go. This was her second novel, and she was deeply involved in it. After reading the 12th chapter, she joined her father and siblings—Ayan and Seerat—for lunch. Her father, a teacher, always came home for lunch. It was Friday, so her siblings had returned early from their half-day at school. but her mother stayed behind at her own school. The house felt both comforting and lonely at the same time.
After eating, Rafiya washed the dishes, then went to perform wudu for her Zuhr prayer. Returning to the kitchen, she saw Seerat still eating.
"You're not done yet?" Rafiya asked with a gentle smile.
Seerat looked up and replied, "No.
You know what today, I went to your school with Sameer sir and other students of our school for my project." She frowned slightly. "The teachers there are stricter than at our school. The PT teacher scolded a student for being late and even threatened to cut his hair."
After prayer and getting ready, Rafiya stepped outside and saw her van waiting at the gate. She overheard Ayan and Seerat arguing over the phone. Concerned, she called their mother.
"Assalamu Alaikum, Mama," she greeted.
"Wa Alaikum Assalam," her mother replied.
"There's a fight over the phone between Ayan and Seerat," Rafiya explained.
Her mother sighed. "Wait i will talk to your father. She handed the phone to Ayan and suggested he talk to their mother. Ayan, still crying, didn't seem to care about the countless scoldings he had received from their father about his phone addiction. After the call, Seerat seemed annoyed.
"You're so mean, Rafiya! You called Ayan," Seerat grumbled.
Rafiya replied gently, "I just wanted him to talk to Mamma." Seerat walked away in frustration, and Rafiya felt a pang of guilt as she hurried to catch her van.
Sitting in the van, Rafiya greeted her best friend, Kulsuma, with a warm "Assalamu Alaikum." (It was her habit to greet with salam when meeting someone, as it is encouraged in Islam.)
"Wa Alaikum Assalam! How are you?" Kulsuma replied.
"I'm okay," Rafiya answered, though inside, her heart still felt heavy.
Waiting at the marketplace, Rafiya spotted her maternal uncle, Mudasir, buying something from a store. A moment later, she saw her father nearby. Watching her father, she felt a surge of love and gratitude. He was her world — her protector, her guide.
Lost in thought, she prayed silently, "Ya Allah, forgive me. I am a sinner, but You are the Most Merciful. Please forgive me and grant me strength."
Her friend's voice broke through her reverie. "Our results are out," Kulsuma said softly.
Rafiya's heart pounded. The exam last week — this result could change everything. Anxiety clawed at her, but she whispered a prayer for courage.
End of chapter 1 .
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