One Hundred and Forty Nine

Hey. Hi. Hello. Salaam. Bonjour. Salut. Ciao. Ahoj. Bog. Marhaba. Ola.Β πŸ˜€

Hope all my lovely readers are doing well!

K.A. this one is for you, cousin. ❀ (See I’m using a red heart for you.Β πŸ™„πŸ˜œπŸ˜˜)Β 

Waiting to know your guesses once you’ll done reading. πŸ˜‰

Much Love,

Troubled Illusioner. ❀

(P.S xoxomg and BeingMuslim, you’ll will be proud to know that I’m pretty happy with this post! 😊🌸)

As narrated by Dayyanah:

It’s dark.

Too dark.

The kind of dark where you can’t even see your fingers in front of your face, where you might as well shut your eyes because having them open makes no difference.

I stop, terrified.

My heart pounds against my rib cage as I squint, trying to make out something, anything, that will tell me where I am.

But the darkness stretches before me like endless river.

It engulfs me from every side with its claustrophobic hands, slowly tightening its hold on my throat, challenging me to breathe.

I grasp wildly at my throat, trying to pull away the invisible force pressing down on my windpipe.

Breathe.. Breathe!! You need to breathe!

But the darkness is overwhelming, terrifying me to the core.

And the silence… the silence is so loud, that it can’t even be heard.

They’ve teamed up, the absolute darkness and the deafening silence.

They’ve teamed up against me.

They’re the hunters- slowly, stealthily, creeping towards me, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

I’m the prey, encircled, trapped, helpless.

And then I hear it.

At first, I think I’m imagining.


It’s a dragged whisper, distant and low.

I strain my ears, trying to figure out where it’s coming from.

But my mind, troubled and anxious, plays a trick on me, for first it sounds to my right, and then to my left.

I slowly turn right around, squinting into the darkness as the voice calls over and over again.


It’s getting closer, whatever it is, whoever it is.

It knows exactly where I am, whereas I, myself, don’t even know where I am.

And then, just like that, the voice is right by ear.

I feel the person’s lips lightly touch me, their hot breath fanning my ear.


Every fiber of my being fills with fear.

Oh god. It’s him.

My scream slices the silences, splitting it.

I whip around so fast that I almost fall over.

My hands strike out in way of self defense, but all they meet is the empty air.

His laughter reaches my ears. Cold, mocking, powerful.

I scream again, my heart hammering against my chest.

“Dayyanah,” he says, his tone is taunting.

God. He knows. He knows I’m terrified of the dark.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!” I yell into the darkness. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Don’t shout, Dayyanah,” he whispers, right behind me.

I scream again, spinning on my heels.

He’s using my weakness against me, pushing my mental strength to its limits.

“GO AWAY!” I yell.

Suddenly, I feel his fingertips on my back, reaching for my Β jacket.

I take off, the sound of my shoes slapping the ground echoing.

He follows in pursuit, right behind me.

I run faster and faster, adrenaline surging through my veins.

On and on, further and further into the depths of the darkness, until it begins to feel like forever.

My legs beg for mercy.

My heart thuds erratically.

My lungs feel like they’re going to give in.

But still, he’s right behind me. I can still feel his fingertips grazing my back. I can still hear his laughter at my ear.

Keep running… Keep running… You have to keep running.

And then, I stumble.

He is on me in an instant, grabbing my collar and lifting me up effortlessly.

“No!” I scream, kicking out.

But once again, my legs don’t find their target.

He is there, but he is not there.

There is no escape now. I’m sandwiched between a wall and the steel grip of his fist.

His humourless smile looms in front of me yet I can’t see his face.

“Dayyanah,” he speaks.

“No!” I scream again, trashing around wildly. “Leave me alone!”

He doesn’t.

Instead, he tightens his already suffocating hold on me and speaks again.

“You can run from your sister, but you will never be able to run from me.”

“You will never, ever, be able to run from me.”

And then he lets go of me and I’m falling.

This time, I don’t scream.

I can’t.

I want to, but I can’t.

Down, down, down I go, free falling into a bottomless hole.

His words echo around me, ringing in my ears repeatedly.

“You will never, ever, be able to run from me.”

“Never, ever, be able to run from me.”

“Never ever.. Never ever…”

My eyes shoot open.

“Never ever.. Never ever..”

I gasp for breath, sucking in air like my lungs depend on it.Β They do.

“Never ever.. Never ever..”

As I lay in bed, trying to calm my racing heart and rid my mind of its troubled illusions, I realize that he is right.

Paapa is right.

I will never be able to run from him, for he isΒ not even here, yet I am at his mercy.

He is dead, but still, he is killing me.

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As narrated by Zee:

Where is it, where is it, where is it?!

I can hear my phone ringing but I can’t seem to find it!

Following the sound, I rummage between the books on my desk.

Aha! There it is!

Just as I swipe my screen to answer Humairah’s skype call, she cancels.

Sitting down on my bed, I call her back.

“Heyyyy! Assalaamualaikum!” she greets, a huge grin on her face.

“Haaloooo! Wa’alaykum Salaam!” I reply, grinning too.

“How’s my favourite brother?” she asks, winking.

“Hey!” I hear Muaaz in the background. “I’m your favourite brother!”

“That was just for the duration of the time that I needed you to do me a favour,” Humairah yells back, laughing.

Her image starts shaking and everything goes blurry as she starts running.


A couple seconds later, Muaaz jumps onto her back and grabs the phone from her hand.

Clinging onto her neck, he holds the phone high, out of her reach.

“Assalaamualaikum baboon,” he says. “Don’t know which Zoo you came from, but please go back there and stop trying to get my sister to love you.”

“Why? Does she love gorillas better?” I ask, smirking.

Muaaz’s mouth drops open in shock and Humairah cackles with laughter.

“Savage,” mutters Muaaz. “Can’t deal, maaaaf.”

Humairah and I laugh uproariously as he slides off her back and gives her back her phone.

“Oh, come back here, you drama queen!” I call to him, still laughing.

“Let’s go to the lounge,” says Humairah.

They sit down on the sofa next to each other so that I can see them both and they both can see me.

“Sooo, we have neeewwws!!” says Humairah.

My smile drops a little.

“Good news, I hope?” I say.

Very good news! The best news you’ll ever hear!” says Muaaz.

“Oh shush you!” laughs Humairah.

“What is it?” I ask, eagerly.

Humairah opens her mouth to speak but Muaaz butts in.

“Well, obviously we’re not just going to tell you,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“You have to guess.”

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20 thoughts on “One Hundred and Forty Nine

  1. Now that @beingmuslim is on break, seems like you have taken the role of “the queen of cliffhangers”…
    Enjoyed the post. Poor Dayyanah…
    though, my two kids are taking away my memory, gotta read your blog from start to remember what exactly happened… smh…

    Liked by 2 people

  2. No idea why my comment didn’t post! I’m glad you loved this post coz so did Iβ™₯️ Also, I can’t recall if Humairah is older than Zee and whether or not she’s married but if she isn’t then my guess is that she’s going to be… although for some reason Idk why I feel as if I’ve read about Zee having a niece or nephew already that is humairah’s child πŸ™ˆ

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I’ve no idea why but whenever you end with Ziyaad’s family having news, I always think it’s that humairah’s getting married πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

    Liked by 1 person

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