Zahra Daya

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020

Stories (22)

22 Stories

1003 karma pts

?

“The Toy We Couldn't Roll Over” by Zahra Daya

Traveling down this road is too much. I know where it ends. The little bumps and crevices and rusty toys left on the road are our fights. The frustration, lies, hurt, anger. Those stupid toys. Our car rolls smoothly over a toy car just now; I only notice it because my eyes are stone-cold, set on the road in front. But we rolled over like it was nothing. Kept going. In hindsight, it was nothing more than a stupid toy.

3 comments 3
Read story

“Thoughts Kill” by Zahra Daya

I held in my cough as I entered the bathroom, senses already on high alert. Smoke unfurled around, blinding me for a moment. It took a second to gauge my surroundings, but once I had, it came as no surprise to see my older brother standing in their group. The only boy in here. After all, this was a ladies' bathroom.  I watched in the mirror as the cigarette got passed around. A girl with pouting lips caked in maro...

12 comments 12
Read story

“Fish Blood” by Zahra Daya

The words on the textbook page blur into opaque black lines as my eyes fixate on one point. My biology professor’s monotone voice drones on despite my apparent lack of interest.  I morph the black lines into words, ones that have been crafted by me and edited by the very best. I imagine looking over the front cover, seeing my name occupy the bottom. My mind conjures up multiple options for pseudonyms. The plush ...

12 comments 12
Read story

“Back To London” by Zahra Daya

TW: AbuseMeet at Banana Tree for dinner, 7:30, my calendar reads. I inhale as my eyes gloss over the words, my mind already running a million miles an hour. Breathe. Birmingham is far enough away from London that my past there doesn’t clash with my present. I didn’t want to move that far away from London; there are parts of it I love, really, so I ended up here, in banal Birmingham. Nothing to complain about, but all the same, not much to praise. Now, I stand on the train platform at Bayswat...

23 comments 23
Read story

“Mommy Comes First” by Zahra Daya

Shrieks pierce the morning silence, slicing me out of my tranquil dreams and leaving me disoriented in my dimly-lit room. The dream had been good; I remember the warm sand beneath my feet and the cool breeze playing on my face and lifting my hair in its wake. And most of all, the complete silence that had allowed for my thoughts to flow. My reverie is short-lived though as the shrieks perpetuate, forc...

16 comments 16
Read story

“Sincerely, Mama and Papa” by Zahra Daya

I brush a piece of seaweed from my neck, it grazes my cheek and reluctantly falls, withering back into the depths of the churning sea. The sea spews out more seaweed that clings to my ankles and sends goosebumps down my neck. I close my eyes, trying to block out the events of the past couple of hours. No. I try to force the thoughts out of my fragile mind, but they persist, wiggling through little apertures and bringing an orphic ambiance with it. Chaos. It was complete chaos and the ...

11 comments 11
Read story

“Metal v. Flesh” by Zahra Daya

Master and Mistress let me out of the car, already starting the ignition before both my feet hit the concrete.  “Hurry,” Mistress calls from the front, her fingers impatiently tapping the dashboard. “Sorry, Mistress.” I scurry out of the car, making sure to balance all five library books in my arms carefully. The tower of books sway precariously, and I wobble, trying to...

7 comments 7
Read story

“The Curl at The Nape of His Neck” by Zahra Daya

Golden flecks adorn the honey brown of my iris. Only my eyes pierce through it all. I stare into the mirror, at the bright pink concealing my natural, plump lips, at the tight dress, revealing too many curves than I’m comfortable with, at the heavily caked-on makeup, obscuring my soft, blemished skin holding all the memorable scars of my past. I gaze at my now-unrecognizable hair, curled and sprayed into a trending fash...

29 comments 29
Read story

“Soul Connection” by Zahra Daya

“Hiya” “Hi, may I help you?” “Yes, I lost my room key, are you able to give me a new one?” The sound of bubble gum popping. Then, after a moment’s silence, “Sure, name?” “Elisiana Tugab” The rhythmic tapping of acrylics on an old-fashioned, worn-in keyboard accompanies the usual din of a hotel lobby. The marble floors wink at me, reflecting t...

25 comments 25
Read story

“A Million in One” by Zahra Daya

The vintage brown of the clay slithers past my hands, leaving a brown trail of residue. I press on the pedal with my foot, applying just a tad more pressure. The wheel spins around faster and I distort the clay with my nimble fingers. I pull it up; now resembling a wand (one that may stick out like a sore thumb if placed in a Harry Potter movie though) and push it back down with my palms.  The trick ...

4 comments 4
Read story

“Snow of Rubies” by Zahra Daya

TW: suicide The room spins round and round, getting blurrier by the second as he twirls me around and around. I clutch on tighter, the potential momentum making me feel like he could hurl me into outer space. I shake my head—there’s no reason for why he would want to do that. His hands shift to my waist, both of our socks slipping and sliding on the polished wooden floor of our cabin. A modern cabin maybe—save for the electricity or WiFi. Our phones lay forgotten by the mess of sheets on the floor. He ha...

13 comments 13
Read story

“When The Weak Cry” by Zahra Daya

Remnants of phlegm and salty pools of moisture create a path on my forearm as I hurriedly wipe my face with shaky movements. The footsteps increase in volume with each belligerent step. I stare at the shadow beneath my white-washed door. I practice turning up the corners of my mouth, endeavouring to rid myself of this tear-stained face. I should’ve known it was no use.  Aggressively, my door is flung op...

12 comments 12
Read story

“Victim of Drug Lords” by Zahra Daya

Disclaimer: Talk of drug abuse. He clutched onto his mother’s arm tightly and staggered out the sliding panels. His mother seemed to be sighing and kept casting her amber eyes downward, as if embarrassed.  “Jason, I’m telling you that it happened.” “Don’t be daft mother, of course, it didn’t,” he said with a short, almost-nervous chuckle. He stole a sideways gl...

18 comments 18
Read story

“The Crow of Spirit and Longing” by Zahra Daya

I force the laugh out of my lips, clinging to the hope of it changing everything. It sounds harsh. Cold. Simply wrong. But no. It has to be right. I don’t allow the thought of it being incorrect to reach my brain. Because if it reaches, it will never leave. Like lice amongst hair. I will have to comb through it and even then I may have to cut it all off. No, it's too dangerous. I can’t risk it. ...

3 comments 3
Read story

“The Deceivers Among Us” by Zahra Daya

“Blue did it.”  Sweat glistens on my forehead, threatening to spill down. The slight tremble in my hands is no aid to me. I know that I should speak now to tell them. Tell them that I didn’t do it. The fact remains that the bloody knife lays at my feet next to the body. Pink’s body.  The blood glistens eerily back at me as it drips off the blade and stains the floor.  If only I knew. ...

12 comments 12
Read story

Author bio

Zahra Daya has not written a bio yet!