Must read islamic short stories

Day I Died...

QOFD: Wasting time is worse than death, because death separates you from this world, wasting time separates you from Allah!

Chapter 28: Day I Died...

Day I died

-It was Halloween night. I made plans with my friends Omar and Malik to go watch SAW 3 at a nearby theatre in Santa Monica, California. We were running late and I realized that I had not prayed Isha but I didnt say anything because I did not want to upset the mood. "Ill just pray afterwards," I told myself.

I only lived 26 years. My 27th birthday was exactly two weeks away. I always imagined I would live long. At least

until age 60. It just wasn't imaginable that I would have such a sudden, unexpected death.

I graduated from the University of Southern California three years earlier with a degree that means absolutely nothing right now. Shortly after, I landed a job as the marketing director of a major clothing company. Aside from the usual

life problems, I was living a normal life.

My girlfriend of 4 years was starting to pressure me into us getting a place together. I knew I wasn't supposed to have a girlfriend in the first place but I enjoyed her company and friendship. I wasn't ready to give that up. I used to always

tell myself that eventually I would marry her. Plus, what would these few years of living a sinful life mean by the time I got older?

My job, girlfriend and life-friends took up the majority of my time. It seemed I never had time to pray. I hardly even had

time to sit down and eat. Offering prayer was always something that irritated me. I did give an effort to keep up on my prayers but for the last two years of my life I gave

up. I pretty much stopped praying altogether.

I never made it home in time to pray that night. SAW 3 was a walk through the rose garden compared to what I was about to experience. I was doing 80 on the route 10

freeway. At 12 midnight, 80mph is not considered speeding. Omar flipped through FM radio stations searching for the song he liked. Malik had fallen asleep in the back seat. I began to doze off too. I used to hate when that happened. I shook out of what seemed like a 10 second snooze. I tried to keep my eyes open. But again I dozed off.

Omar screamed, "HEY!" It was too late. The car struck the center divider and spun back into the flow of traffic. An on

coming car hit my door. That car was also hit by another vehicle. We finally came to a halt somewhere in the middle of the freeway, a hundred yards from the spot of the collision. I didn't feel any pain. I was just dizzy. I heard Omar and Malik moaning as good civilians tried pulling us

from the wreck.

I wasn't rescued until the fire fighters arrived. It was quite a task recovering my battered body.The fire fighters moved my friends away as they made last attempts to revive me.

I died. An angel came to me and

removed my soul. I watched him fly away with it in disbelief. "How could you? I'm not even 27," I pleaded. "It's time," he told me and left...

Two minutes later they pulled a white sheet over me. Omar and Malik, apparently doing better than me, pulled the sheet back to look at me one last time. They cried their eyeballs out. I had known them ever since I was 13 years old and