Hestruggled and roared, but it was much like a toddler struggling againsttheir parent, fruitless.Fajr opened her eyes.She was in her one bedroom apart...ent, fallen asleep at her writing desk.It was weird, living alone after years living with her parents. Still,they supported her, even if it had meant she needed a second job to coverthe rent and college.Looking down at the essay she had been writing, the young muslim americansquinted. What had she been thinking, writing at three o'clock in. "Well if the third one is true, then we have another two things in common. I don't like reading, and I like girls, but I don't have a job. If I did, though, it would most likely be in a pet store." Just then, the light flickered, and the elevator began to move again. We stood up, and the elevator reached the fourth floor. As the doors opened, we felt a burst of cool air from the hallway, causing both of us to sigh with relief. I followed Nicole down the hallway, until we came to a stop in front. More

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