This Is My Truth
Page 30
Thank you to Lesley-Anne for always being around for a chat, whether about life or, more likely, Frozen. To Danielle Jawando for sharing writing misery with me, and Sara Barnard for always providing distraction TikToks and harsh realities about being a writer. To Gabriel Dylan for regaling me with funny school rumours that were too dirty to actually be used in this book, and for informing me about school safeguarding procedures. Much thanks to Rosie Farrell also for her safeguarding knowledge. Huge thanks to Dr Sarah Jennings for your medical expertise (and general cuteness), and to Kim Burns for your police knowledge.
A ginormous thank you to Callen Martin for your amazing sensitivity read on this book, for answering all my ‘This is the last question – I SWEAR’s, and for all the work you do to ensure accurate portrayals of children in care. I tip my hat to you, sir. Any mistakes left in the text are entirely mine.
Thank you also to Annie Shafi from My Foster Family and Abdurrahman Sayed from Foster Care Link for your time and knowledge.
My biggest thank you goes to the lovely ladies who were kind enough to share their experiences of domestic violence with me (and thank you to Mariam Khan for being the bridge between us). I am grateful beyond words for your openness and trust. In particular, thank you to Mariyam Khan for your sensitivity read and live DM reactions. Your support of this novel means more than I can ever say. Thank you for sharing your truth with me, and making me cry with your notes. I was looking for a sensitivity reader and ended up with an amazing friend.
Lastly, thank you to everyone who read and said nice things about my first novel. Your support kept me going through debut year and motivated me so much through writing this one. Sorry if it sucks. All the blue heart emojis.
About the Author
Yasmin Rahman is a British Muslim born and raised in Hertfordshire. Her first novel, ALL THE THINGS WE NEVER SAID, was the runner-up YA book in the inaugural Diversity Book Awards. She has MAs in Creative Writing and Writing for Young People. Her short story ‘Fortune Favours the Bold’ was published in the Stripes anthology A Change is Gonna Come in 2017, with the Bookseller awarding the contributors a YA Book Prize Special Achievement Award for commitment to making YA publishing more inclusive.
When she’s not writing, Yasmin makes bookish fan art; her designs are sold worldwide on behalf of John Green. THIS IS MY TRUTH is her second novel.
1. MEHREEN
4th April
Bismillah hir-Rahman nir-Rahim …
In the name of Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful …
I take a deep breath and step onto the prayer mat, ready to start the dawn prayers. As I mutter verses from the Quran under my breath, I lose myself in the rhythm, letting the Arabic flow through me, cleansing me from head to toe. Mum is kneeling on the mat next to mine. As she turns her head to the left, I see she’s got a slight smile on her face, a visual expression of the serenity that encapsulates her when she prays. The same sense of serenity I yearn for every time I pray.
My religion has always meant a lot to me. People make fun of how much it dictates my life, but it’s the only thing that’s kept me going so far. Sometimes, when the Chaos in my brain is so loud that it feels like my head is about to crack open, I have actually found some comfort in prayer. Not like a ray of sunshine floating down or anything, but it … it soothes me, drowns out the incessant voices in my head – for a while, anyway. I can’t really explain it. I guess I’m just a no-questions-asked believer. I believe in God, I believe in heaven, I believe that the afterlife is what we should be preparing for, that it’s the only place I’ll find true p eace.
Mum finishes her prayers and leaves the room, but I stay kneeling on the mat. It’s said that dawn is the best time to ask for things, so I start a little personal prayer.
Allah,
I feel like there’s something wrong with me: something completely and utterly unfixable. I just want to live a life where I don’t keep being overwhelmed by sadness. Where I don’t suddenly feel like someone has punched me in the gut and I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t see – when my head is so crammed with worry that I can’t even focus on what I’m doing, who I’m with, or even whether I’m breathing. I’m fed up of feeling like this, of being continuously battered by what I call ‘the Chaos’. I want my brain to slow down, to just … be normal. I need something to live for, Allah, because right now the only thing keeping me here is you. And I’m starting to feel like that’s not enough.
As usual, I find myself so overcome with tears that I can’t continue. I curl up on the prayer mat in the foetal position, squeezing my eyes shut, clenching all my muscles, trying to push away the darkness.
‘Mehreen! Come down and eat!’ My mother’s voice is at the pitch that tells me this isn’t the first time she’s called. When I stand up, my body is stiff and the sun is blazing through the curtains. I wipe my face and compose myself before making my way downstairs.
In the kitchen, Mum is at her position by the sink, furiously scrubbing a pan and talking about some drama involving her family back in Bangladesh, while Dad sits at the head of the table, tapping away on his phone, paying no attention to her whatsoever. The Angry Birds theme tune hums quietly around the room. Imran is leaning against the counter near the toaster, also on his phone. I slip into the room, fix myself some cereal and sit down at the other end of the table.
No one looks up.
No one says anything.
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First published in Great Britain in 2021 by
HOT KEY BOOKS
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Copyright © Yasmin Rahman, 2021
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
The right of Yasmin Rahman to be identified as Author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-1-4714-1053-6
This eBook was produced using Atomik ePublisher
Hot Key Books is an imprint of Bonnier Books UK
www.bonnierbooks.co.uk