Chapter 1

I wake up to my alarm clock beeping and the sounds of honking, ah New York. Five-thirty is not a good time to get up in the morning, but when you open enroll to a school that’s an hour away, you have to deal with it. I get ready like I do everyday: take a shower, get dressed, put on little make-up, drink a glass of tea for breakfast and out of the door by six-fifteen to drive myself to school. My dad wanted me to go to Horace Mann Private School because my mother went there when she was my age and he said it would make her proud. My mom died when I was two so I don’t really remember her but my dad talks about her all the time. My dad is a Deacon at St. Anne’s church in Staten Island. He talks in Bible verses and lessons; which, by the way is super-annoying when you want a straight answer. I go to church every Sunday and my dad goes everyday for bible studies and services during the week. I am left alone most of the time, but I don’t mind.  It just gives me more time to draw. Drawing is my passion.  I hope to become an artist after high school, but my dad wants me to become a teacher like my mom was. I haven’t told him that I want to be an artist because I don’t want to disappoint him.

Chapter 2
When I finally get to school I find out that we have a new student, a Muslim girl, in my grade. I think  back to when my father said how evil Muslims are and their murderous god. I am worried about meeting her but I am thankfull I don’t have any classes with her. But as I was leaving the school, I saw her behind the school building crying. I thought Muslims were evil beings that had no emotion. That’s always what my dad has told me.  Seeing this girl crying made me feel like protecting her though. I walk over and help her up, “Are you ok?”.“I’m fine.” she says even though I know she’s not. “What’s your name?” I ask. “Abida, what’s yours?” “Allie. Abida is a pretty name.” I say. I ask her what happened. “These girls were making fun of me and some boys were trying to tear my hijab off!  Why is everyone mean to me? You are the first person who has said a nice thing to me.  Even the teachers give me dirty looks!” She starts crying again. I feel horrible about judging her this morning. Maybe my dad was wrong about Muslims, maybe they aren't all bad. “Thank you for all your help but I have to get home now.  My mother’s making beef curry for dinner.” Abida says after she had stopped crying. I felt disappointed because I wanted to talk to her some more. As Abida was walking away she turned back and asked me “Do you want to come over for dinner?” “I would love to. Would it be okay with your parents if I do?” I ask. “It will be fine, my parents love having people over.” she says. I send a quick text to my dad telling him I was going to a friends house to study; I don’t know why I lied, but I had a funny feeling about telling him about Abida. I’ll probably tell him later about her anyway.

When we get to Abida’s house, which was only 15 minutes from the school, she leads me to the kitchen where a woman was stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. The woman herself was wearing a black hijab and a cream colored dress. Even with her hair covered and no makeup, when she turned around I could see how beautiful she was. “Hi Mom, this is Allie.” Abida said “Hello I’m Matina, will you be joining us for dinner?” asked the woman smiling warmly at me. “If it’s ok with you, I would love to.” “The more the merrier.” Matina says laughing. I’m so confused how could my father say that these people were evil? Matina doesn’t even know me and she welcomed me with open arms.

Chapter 3
At five-thirty Abida’s father got home, I was nervous about meeting him but when he smiled at me I felt at ease. “I’m Abaan, Abida’s father.” “I’m Allie.” A boy came up behind Abaan who looked a few years older than Abida, maybe 20 or 21.“I’m Kazim, Abida’s brother.” “Nice to meet you.” I said as Matina came into the living room to say that dinner was ready. We went into the dining room and sat down. I sat next to Abida and we were just about to eat when I heard each of the family members mumble what seemed like a prayer, but they were so quiet about it I couldn’t tell. The curry was amazing, it was spicy and sweet at the same time. Matina had made rolls to go with the curry and a piece of basbousa, which is a sweet cake and and vanilla cream on top. When we were done eating I thanked Matina for the food and Abida lead me to her room. Her bedroom was awesome! It was painted a pale pink with flowers along the borders of the walls at the top, she had decorative lights above her bed causing a golden glow on her cream colored sheets that also had flowers on them. There was a bookshelf that was filled to the max with books of all genre’s and a desk that had papers all over it. “I love your room.” I say as she flops down on the bed. “Thanks, I haven't had time to hang any posters yet, but when I do my room will be complete.”  We talk for hours about everything and I realize how much we have in common. I asked about her family and where she use to live (London,England) when I asked about her religion she talked with a passion in her eyes that I had never seen before. She talked about Allah, Muhammad, and the Quran. She gave me an English copy of the Quran, and when I started to read it I was surprised how much sense it made to me, more than the bible ever had.
Around Eight p.m. my dad text me that I need to come home because it was late. I said my goodbyes to Abida’s family and thanked them for the meal. They said they would love to have me over again. Kazim was kind enough to give me a ride to the school because it was getting dark. During the ride we talked about our favorite movies; his favorite is “Deep Blue Sea”, I told him mine was “The Lion King”. When we got to the school I told him thanks and he waited until I made it to my car before he left. When I got home my dad was waiting for me in the kitchen, “How was studying?” he asked me. “It was fine.” I said. “I heard that you got a Muslim girl at your school.” he said. “Yes her name is Abida.” “I don’t want you around that girl, she is evil and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He says this with a cold expression that’s almost frightening. “You haven’t even met her though how do you know she’s evil?” I ask carefully. “All of those things are evil!” He shouts. “Ok, Dad I understand.” I say goodnight and go up to my room. I write down what happened today in my blue diary with silver swirls. On the last sentence I write:
~Maybe my dad is the one that’s evil~

Chapter 4
In the next few weeks I went over to Abida’s house everyday for “studying” and dinner. I rarely saw my dad and when I did I barely talked to him, just half answers and mumbles. I had stopped going to church, coming up with lame excuses like I don’t feel well. Kazim would drive me to the school when I had to leave, Abida would sometimes come with us, but it was usually just Kazim and me. He became like a brother to me and he would even call me “Ukhayyatun” which Abida told me later meant little sister. Ever since I had finished reading the copy of the Quran Abida gave me, I had been researching Islam online at school and books from the library. I realized that Islam was a beautiful religion and their God is loving of all living creatures, not the hateful twisted religion that my Father always said it was. I started to talk to Abida about converting to Islam, she took me to her Mosque to talk to the Imam, a religious leader. He explained the 5 pillars of Islam, the pillars include Shahadah, the Declaration of Faith, Salat, daily prayers, Zakat, the giving money to the poor, Sawm, fasting during Ramadan, and Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca.
After weeks making sure Islam was the religion for me I went to the Mosque with Abida and her family and completed the Shahadah, officially becoming a muslim. I changed my name to Khadijah after Muhammad's(peace be upon him) first wife. When I had finished saying the last of the holy words I felt a sense of peace and calm wash over me. Afterwards I went to Abida’s house and we had a small “party” which consisted of music, laughter and cake. When I got home around 11:00 that night my dad was already asleep so I went straight to my room and I wrote in my diary explaining the amazing events that happened today. My diary lock looked like it had a scratch on it but it’s probably nothing. I fell asleep almost instantly thinking about the wonderful day I just had.

Chapter 5

When I woke up that morning I did the morning prayers for the first time, quietly so my Father won’t hear. When I get to school I’m sad that Abida and I don’t have any of the same classes. When I finally see her we decide to get some ice-cream from a little diner down the street. While we are eating I get a text from my Father telling me to come home now. “I have to go my dad needs me” I tell Abida.

“Okay text me later.” “Of course” I say. My Dad is standing in the living room holding something, as I walk closer I recognize the blue and silver swirls of my diary. I stop shocked. “What are you doing!!” I yell. He looks up with hard cold eyes, “You have been acting weird lately and had stopped going to church ever since that thing joined your school, I was worried, and after reading this I see I had a reason to be.” he says. “You had no right to read that, it was personal.” I say through tears. “If you stop seeing that girl and become a Christian again I will forget all of this and put it behind us.” He says. “No, I believe everything I wrote in there and I will not back down just because you don’t agree with my choices.” I say wiping away my tears. “Fine I tried, from now on I don’t have a daughter, I want you gone by tomorrow and leave the car.” He grabs his coat and slams the door leaving me shocked.

I knew he would freak out when I told him eventually, but I didn’t think he would disown me and throw me out. While I was hurt by the way he treated me I actually felt a tiny flicker of relief, I won’t have to hide my way of life from anyone now. I text Abida and asked her if she could come over to my house and that I would explain everything when she got here. 15 minutes later there was a knock on my door I let her in and immediately started bawling. When I calmed down I told her everything and when I was done we just sat there hugging each other. After a while I went to the bathroom to compose myself and when I came back I saw Abida putting her phone away. “Who was that.” I ask. “It was my parents, they said that you could stay with us for as long as you need.” she says smiling. “I hadn’t even thought of that, oh Abida thank you! Can you text Kazim and ask him if he will drive his car over to help with my boxes of stuff.” I ask. “Of course, I’ll help you pack to.” She says. We make it back to my room and when I pack all the things I need, I only have 7 boxes of stuff. Kazim arrives just as we finish moving the last box to the front door. When he sees me he gives me a big hug saying “Abida told me what happened, I am so sorry Dijah.” Dijah is his nickname for me. “I’m alright” I say. We get all my boxes in his car and we get to their house, my house now, Matina and Abaan both hug me and ask me how I feel. I tell them I feel fine, but am a bit tired. Matina makes me a glass of hot chocolate before guiding me towards the guest bedroom next to Abida. The room itself is blue with the flower theme like Abida’s. Instead of going to bed right away I stay up thinking of the events of today.  Without a diary to write in and let all of the confused and hurt feelings go, they just simmer inside me. I fall into a troubled sleep around midnight.

Epilogue

It’s been 1 year since my Father kicked me out and I barely think about him anymore. I started wearing the Hijab a couple of weeks after the incident and I’ve never felt better. Abida and I graduated from high school 3 months ago and now we are preparing for college, we both applied and got accepted to the same art school, Abida wants to become a writer and I of course want to become an artist. We are renting a small 2 bedroom apartment 10 minutes away from the campus. The school is only about an hour from where Abaan and Matina, who I now call Mom and Dad, live. On our last day home before we leave for school Matina threw a big farewell party for us and invited everyone we knew. There was dancing and games and just pure fun. We get to the apartment early the next morning, Mom and Dad say their tearful goodbyes and me and Abida just lay on the couch watching T.V. I get up and look out at the amazing view from our window and I can’t wait to start this new chapter in my life.

The End