Chapter 1 - The Girl I Used to Be

I was not always this girl.

There was a time-one that now feels distant and almost unreal-when my heart was light, untouched by the weight of secrets, and my soul was at peace in a way words could never fully describe.

I remember the sound of my mother's voice before Fajr, soft yet firm as it slipped through the quiet walls of our home.

"Aaliyah... wake up, habibti. It's time."

There was something about the way she said it-not just a call to prayer, but a call to something greater. Something sacred.

Back then, I never struggled to get up.

I would rise from my bed, the coolness of the tiled floor kissing my feet as I made my way to the bathroom for wudu. The water would always be slightly cold at that hour, but I welcomed it. It woke me-not just my body, but my heart.

Everything felt... intentional.

Every drop of water.

Every whispered du'a.

Every step toward the prayer mat.

Our home was not perfect, but it was filled with something many homes lacked-imaan that lived in the little things.

My father never missed a prayer in the masjid.

My mother recited Qur'an as though it was the rhythm of her breath.

And me?

I was the girl who wanted to be like them.

I would stand beside my mother during salah, my small voice trying to follow her recitation, stumbling over verses I had not yet fully memorized. She would smile sometimes-not breaking her prayer, but I could feel it.

Feel her pride.

Feel her love.

And in those moments, I felt... enough.

"Do you ever feel like you're missing out?"

The question came years later, but I remember it like it was carved into my memory.

It was the first time something inside me shifted.

I turned to look at her-Zahra.

She was sitting beside me on the low wall outside our school, her legs swinging slightly, her eyes fixed on the groups of girls laughing loudly, their voices carrying freely into the afternoon air.

"Missing out on what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

"Life, Aaliyah. Fun. Love. Freedom."

The words felt... foreign.

I frowned slightly. "We have all of that."

She turned to me then, really looking at me, as though trying to understand something she couldn't quite grasp.

"No," she said quietly. "You have rules."

I remember the way my chest tightened at that.

Not in anger.

But in something I didn't yet recognize.

Doubt.

That day did not change me.

Not immediately.

I went home the same way I always did-greeting my mother, helping in the kitchen, praying my salah on time. Everything looked the same on the outside.

But something had been planted.

A question.

A whisper.

A feeling I couldn't quite shake.

Was I... missing out?

That night, I stood on my prayer mat longer than usual.

My hands were raised, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Ya Allah... keep my heart firm."

I didn't know then why I made that du'a.

I didn't know that it would become the very du'a I would one day beg through tears... after I had already lost my way.

If I could go back to that girl-the one standing in the quiet of her room, her heart still pure, her intentions still unshaken-I would hold her.

I would tell her to be careful of the things that seem small.

The conversations that feel harmless.

The friendships that feel innocent.

The feelings that feel... exciting.

Because sometimes, the things that don't look like storms...

are the ones that slowly drown you.

And Zahra?

She smiled at me that day like she had just opened a door.

I didn't realize then...

I was the one who chose to walk through it.

—

Author’s Note 🤍

Heyyy beautiful people! It’s Reyhanah! 🥹💗

If you’re reading this, just know that I genuinely appreciate you being here. There are so many books on Wattpad, so the fact that you chose to spend some of your time with Aliyah means more to me than you probably realise. 🥹

Writing this story has honestly been a journey. Sometimes I know exactly where I want the story to go, and other times Aliyah  decides to surprise me too. 😭😂

But I’m enjoying every second of it, and I hope you’re enjoying the journey with me.

I want to hear from you too! Tell me what you think about Aliyah so far. Who do you understand more? What are you expecting to happen? And most importantly… are you enjoying the story? 👀

Don’t be afraid to comment because I actually read them all. Your reactions, votes and theories make writing even more exciting for me. 🤍

And to everyone who has voted, commented, added this book to their library or simply kept reading quietly—thank you. 🥹💗

You didn’t have to, but you did.

So from me, Reyhanah, thank you for being part of Aliyah and Omar’s story.

Now go on… there’s still a lot more to come. 👀🤭💗