Discriminated°

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Moon: please don't judge my book from the first two or three chapters, because there's more to go (='∀｀)
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Just as she stood up to walk over to the kitchen, where her mother was arranging the kitchen in a hurry before she stops her.

"Mama, you'll be late for work" she stopped her by grabbing her wrist, her mother groaned heading towards the fridge.

"I know Deena, but I have to prepare something for you to eat, you can't go to school and you're hungry once again," her mother said, taking out milk from the fridge.

"Mama it's fine, I'll just drink milk, it'll make me full, so don't worry, you'll be late" she warned her before receiving a sigh.

Her mother looked into her eyes for a moment before Deena chuckled.

"Mama wallah (swear) I'll drink milk, I'm not hungry anyway" she shrugged with a smile.

Pointing a finger at Deena who ended up pushing her mother out of the kitchen.

"Drink your milk and don't wash your glass, I wanna see it when I come back" she was pushed to the front door where she started wearing her long brown colored coat before wrapping her scarf around her head.

"Whatever Rudaina, just get going yallah (come on)" that made her mother crack a smile as well when she called her by her real name.

"Ok habibty (my love, dear, sweetheart, etc.) I'll get going now a'asalam alikom"

As so, the house went silent, only Deena was in it and she was about to leave too.

She'd like to go to school without drinking the forced-to-drink milk but she preferred to listen to her mother today.

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Wrapping her scarf and walking out of the house with a Bismillah (in the name of Allah) and making her way to the direction where her school was located, not too far from where she lived.

As she starts thinking of her life right now.

This town was still new to her, everything was still new to her, she wanted her hometown back but that impossible at the moment.

4 years ago she lost her father who suffered from an illness, after that she and her mother traveled to this town, where she continues her studies and her mother works for their living.

It was hard for them, losing someone so close to you was the hardest to Deena and the pain she felt could have dragged her to depression but she was strong enough to hold herself in place.

It would be selfish if she acted like she lost her everything, it was her mother's lose as well and her mother could die for her husband but she held herself strong for Deena and Deena did the same.

Her mind took her into deep thoughts as she notices herself about to walk past the school gates.

As soon as she steps in, eyes have already lingered on her, stuck.

As if she was a magnet to their eyes, they gazed her in a bad way, not a way she'd feel happy about, never.

But as always, she'd ignore them and walk normally as if no one gives a damn of who was walking.

But that was always hard to believe when she steps inside the school, where hundreds of eyes would look at her disgustingly.

Some of them rolled their eyes and some of them actually threw insults at her.

Scarfed Terrorist was her nickname in school and she disliked it.

Walking to her locker where she finds a couple of notes saying,

"Go to hell colored satan"

"Real terrorist"

"Don't try exploding our school fucked scarf"

"Welcome to your hell terror-ass"

Pulling them all off as she threw them away before noticing waves of laughter on her but she shrugged it and opened her locker.

As soon as she does so, a bunch of papers was falling from it as she gasps and backs off a bit.

Holding her chest and saying, "Astaghfirullah"

She gulped so hard on her saliva when more laughter was heard from around her.

She sighed in irritation wanting to take her books and leave but was stopped.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going young terror"

Young terror? What a name.

The janitor, Mr. Luke stopped her as he walked in front of her with his huge belly and rounded face along with his wife, the broom.

"Leaving for class?" For a reason that made him chuckle a bit.

"Yeah right, after throwing all that on the floor expecting me to be cleaning your mess up!" His yelled called attention which she disliked so much.

"No Mr. Luke, I didn't do this" she defended herself.

"Oh really? Then who did?" He asked, a smirk still on his thin lips. Looking around her for any suspicious but she couldn't find as they were all so suddenly busy with their work.

She had one on mind but she couldn't just assume it was the person, that was haram.

"I don't know, but it was defi-"

"Listen, Deena, I have no time for your shit to be listening, people like you are the ones who make some mess and leaves, just like your terrorist family and country, you leave your dirt and leave, your appearance enough is a dirt in the school"

The words he spoke came out easy to him but was cutting her deeply and all she could do was clench her fist in anger.

Leaning down as she started to clean the mess before her eyes started reading the words written on those papers.

All kind of insults was written on them, it started being normal to her.

A small hit was felt on her back, she turned to see a bunch of familiar guys smirking at her and one of them was the person she knew was behind those papers.

Zayn.

The name Zayn was one of her favorites but after him, she hated the name and hated him.

In just two weeks he turned her life into a living hell, where she got the name Scarfed Terrorist from, where her hatred would love to fulfill his needs on.

Zayn was her enemy from day one.

"Prepare yourself for an everyday exercise called Pick up your precious names on the floor" with that, he made fun of her and made his friends laugh as well, before walking away with them.

"Laillah Ila Allah" she whispered.

This word actually smoothed her cool, because it reminds her that there is no God but Allah who could help her and she knows he's watching her, he's watching every single thing that will and had happened to her in this school.

She won't follow him for revenge, instead, she'd live normally.

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Guys! Ramadan Kareem to you all! I hope you have a blessing Ramadan🌙 and I hope you liked chapter one.