Chapter 55

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Ibraheem's POV:

As my eyes fluttered open, I was in a dark room, with dim blue lights barely making the room visible. I was sitting on a wooden chair with probably the most confused look on my face. The room was empty apart from the chair I was sitting on and an empty chair facing mine. The walls were black with only one door behind the empty chair.

I tried to recall the last thing I could remember. And then it came back to me. Slowly but surely. Misha's parents. Shahbaz. Gunshots. I looked down at my body but there wasn't a single gunshot wound on it, scratch that, there wasn't even pain. Infact, my body felt oddly light. Almost as if I was floating.

Frowning, I got up. I don't remember wearing this suit. It was a pure white shalwar kameez. I left the house wearing a navy blue shirt and black pants. What is going on? Where was Misha? Where was I, anyway? Is this perhaps a dream? Or worse yet....holy shit, was I dead? Was this hell? Oh fuck no. I can't leave her. She will go crazy without me. No, I will probably go crazy without her.

I quickly rose from the seat in a panic. I need to wake up from this dream asap. I need to go to her. I miss her. I want to hug her. I need to make sure she is alright. I remember hearing a fourth gunshot before passing out and I am pretty sure it didn't hit me which leaves only Misha. No. No. NO.

I am going to gut Shahbaz. I will rip his nails off one by one and then I will drill his stomach but first I need to wake up. Think, Ibraheem. Think. I started pacing the room quickly while trying to think of a way to get out of here. Should I pinch myself? No, I don't think that works.

I stopped mid track when I heard the doorknob twist and someone stepped inside. The setting inside the room changed almost immediately. There was a cold, comforting breeze and the lights were bright but not blinding. The four dark walls that had surrounded the room disappeared and instead, above me were clear blue skies and around me were wide ranging green meadows that stretched for kilometers. I could hear birds chirping if that made any sense.

The man who had stepped outside of the door didn't have a face which confirmed that I was definitely dreaming. But he wasn't terrifying and it didn't seem like something straight out of a horror movie. Despite not having a face, for some odd reason, I could tell that he was smiling pleasantly at me and it was calming the panic within me.

He stepped forward and took a seat on the empty chair from before. I noticed that he was barefoot but his feet relaxed visibly on the lush green grass. It dawned on me that I was barefoot too. We were wearing the same clothes. Crisp white shalwar kameez.

I was so confused. I needed answers.

"Asalam o Alaikum Ibraheem," I heard a gentle voice call out to me and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the man but all I could get were positive vibes so I dropped the doubt.

"Walaikum Asalam," I greeted back carefully and for some reason, my feet led me to sit on the chair again. As I sat facing him, I was pretty speechless as first. I didn't know what to say or do.

"You did good, Ibraheem." The statement was vague but it made me feel content. I felt like I was praised for all I had achieved and done in life. "But you have come too soon."

His statement made me want to ask the one thing I was really curious about. I dreaded the question but I needed to know since this man seemed to know quite alot about me.

"Am I dead?" This earned me a hearty chuckle from the man.

"I don't know, are you?" What was that supposed to mean? I frowned at the man as he continued. "You protected her, didn't you? You shouldn't have any regrets."

"But I do have regrets. I want to live a life with her. Grow old together. She will fall sick without me. I have to protect her. I need to be by her side. I want her to be by my side too." I didn't want to give more details about us but I feel like he already knew without me saying anything. I looked down at my hands. "I love her. I want to go to her. There is far too much I still want to do with her."

"It is hard to go back." Those six words dropped a weight on my shoulders. The floating feeling ended and I felt suffocated. The dark room was back with walls higher than before. Lights dimmer than before as my eyes closed again. "Only miracles work here."

....

I don't know long this routine continued. I had lost track of time and days. I would wake up in the same gloomy room and then the man would enter, greet me the same way and ask me the same questions. It was like a broken record.

Hours. Days. Weeks went by. I felt my sanity slowly slip. Misha was the only thing that was keeping me going. When my body would grow cold, my hands were the only body part that seemed to warm up despite everything. It was an odd sensation. Nothing was holding onto it and yet I could feel invisible fingers entwined with mine. They comforted me.

At times, I would wake up to Misha's voice whispering something in my ear but I couldn't tell what it was. Her voice pulled me through the darkness and light.

It was another one of those moments. The man without the face was repeating the same sentence. "It is hard to go back." He spoke and then paused. I waited for him to say the next sentence as per routine but he paused and looked behind him at the door. He then turned towards me slowly.

For the first time since I had arrived here, I heard her voice. Loud and clear. It echoed in the space and soothed me to the soul. I recognized that voice all too well. It belonged to my jaan after all. To Misha.

'Ya Allah make him healthy and protect him from the evil eye and all enemies. Ya Allah, please bring my Ibraheem back to me. Please, my Lord, I love him so much. Please.'

The man had heard it too. I felt the pleasant smile he had given me in the very beginning.
 
"Looks like Allah has granted you a miracle." The man let out a hearty chuckle as he slowly started to fade. The walls around me, the ground below me, everything started to disappear as my feet brought me to the door which stood solid. I looked back once at the fading man. His words rang in the air. "Duas change qadr and it appears your fate has been changed due to her duas. You have been given a second chance. Repent and live so that the next time you come, you arrive without regrets."

For the first time, I gave him a smile as I twisted the doorknob and stepped unto the other side of the door. A bright light blinded me as I felt my body become the weight of a feather until it disappeared into the light as well.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, adjusting to the light. I scanned the room and spotted Misha sitting on a prayer mat rocking back and forth with tears in her eyes.

She hadn't noticed me yet so I carefully took off the mask around my mouth and gave her a loving look. I heard her saying the dua I had heard in my dream. It was barely above a whisper but I could hear the words clearly.

So it was her duaen that brought me back, huh? Allah was truly merciful and He heard the plea of every single person out there. He had heard Misha too. In that moment, I knew, I had truly came back. Came back to her. To my dear wife. To Misha.

"It must have been a while since the hickeys I made on your neck have disappeared, meri jaan."

Author's Note:

Firstly, thank you to each and every one of you for the cute birthday wishes. It warms my heart to see all of them. God bless you all.

Secondly, I thought I would give you all a double update. I wanted to throw in something spiritual so yeah. How are we all feeling now?

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