(Sorry for ignoring all your comments on the previous chapter! I had work on the SECOND DAY OF EID)

This one is for amazing71
:)

F i f t y F o u r

"I went to the West and saw Islam but no Muslims. I came back to the east and saw Muslims but no Islam."

-Sheikh Muhammad Abduh-
☆

Mashal
"You are so clever zawjati! You were planning to sleep on the floor and get the reward of the sunnah alone so you could get to a higher level of jannah than me and marry someone else there?"

"Out of all the reasons a person could sleep on the floor, you thought of that?"
I smiled, my mind fooling me into thinking that the muddy, uneven floor I was asleep on, was in our room and that Zeyara was with me which was enough to make that floor softer, more comfortable than plush silk mattresses.

It was, however, the opening of my eyes that threw me off the silk into a bed of needles.

The headless, limbless body was still there, even though the terrorists had gone.
Everything smelled of blood and death.

I felt blood pool in my mouth from the tongue I had just bitten through in an attempt to not scream.
My body shook with fear as the hiccups and sobs escaped my mouth.
How could they use The Most Loving's name while doing that?
How could they call themselves Muslims, let alone say Allahu Akbar while doing something so vile?

Beside me, Zeyara had opened his eyes too. I wasn't sure if he had been awake to witness the sickening scene but seeing me tremble like that, he did the only thing he had left power of.
Extend his arm.
I Immediately accepted the offer, letting him wrap his good arm around me while the injured one lay at his side. I soaked myself into his comfort and this time, didn't refrain myself from crying. This was the first time I was considering that maybe baba was right. Maybe I should've stayed in Manchester and perhaps never have to see this.
No one should ever have to see this.

The door rattled, I shrunk more into my husband wanting to block out the cruel world and I could feel him go stiffer too. We were not ready for more torture. Neither physical, nor emotional.
Then again, Allah doesn't burden a soul beyond what it can bear.

The door opened and a troubled Sanan pranced towards us with a polythene bag in his hand.
A strange relief washed over his previously stressed face when he saw the corpse.
"Alhamdulillah." He mumbled beneath his breath, earning a disgusted glare from me.

"When I heard they slaughtered someone in here, I was thinking of...you. That's why." He tried explaining the reason behind him thanking God.

I was too shattered to reply and retorted to stay silent, still being in Zeyara's grasp which made me feel safe. Zeyara however, needed only Allah to make him feel safe. The type of strength of Iman, I wish I had.

"W-w who was h- he?" He asked Sanan with a stuttering difficulty.

"A US spy." Sanan shrugged. "This was nothing really. Last Eid al Adha they hung people from meat hooks and butchered them like sheep in a slaughtering house. The smell lingered for months."

I shuddered at the imagery, clenching Zeyara for support. This was just too much.

Sanan dragged the corpse out, leaving blood smeared on the floor and walls. I wish we were not wounded and could run away from the dreadful place. But neither was Zeyara in a position to walk, nor would my injured leg take me far.

"What do they want from us?" I asked while Ssanan busied himself in a fruitless attempt of clearing the blood smears off the floor, his brown shalwar getting stained in the process.

He stopped wiping the floor and glanced at Zeyara. "Your husband should know better but the little information I was allowed is that someone had offered the Islamic state militants huge amounts of money and land in exchange for killing MZS."

I could feel Zeyara squirm uncomfortably as Sanan continued speaking, "I heard they killed MZS but they were still not given the land and money they had been promised because the person who made the deal said they killed the wrong MZS. Now that they got their hands on the correct MZS, they are trying to raise the offer. They've been threatening the person to increase the money for killing MZS or else they'll let him know who is the one after his life."

"Why..... Why are they all after Zeyara?" I barely mumbled in a scared voice.

"Ask Zeyara." He shrugged, leading me to stare at my husband who didn't say a word, nor did he move his hand to at least hint something. I figured it was either too hard for him to speak or maybe it was something he couldn't say in front of Sanan.
For even I myself, didn't trust Sanan now.

"I got some food for you." Sanan said suddenly, rummaging through the black bag he had brought along. He pulled out several dates and a half eaten markook. Flatbread.
"I'm sorry. That's all I could save while not seeming suspicious."

"You don't know how grateful I am Sanan. Jazakumullah khair." That was a genuine statement, coming more from my growling stomach than from my mouth.

I could survive eating a couple of dates. Zeyara needed the rest to heal.
After brief resistance since the food had come from Sanan and could potentially be poisoned, Zeyara let me feed him. I had to dip the markook in water to make it chewable for his weak jaw and remove the seeds from the dates.

I was too absorbed in feeding my injured husband that I didn't notice Sanan inspecting my leg. I was taken by surprise when he suddenly asked in a concerned tone. "What's wrong with your leg?"

"Nothing, it's perfect." I answered, a bit too quickly. Even though I knew the damage was a lot and could possible lead to me being legless but telling him meant that he would want to see it and dress the wounds.
Knowing the feelings he used to have for me and probably still had, it seemed far from right. Especially in front of my husband.

"There's a pool of blood under your leg lady and you're telling me it's perfect?" He rose his brow in disbelief.

"No, seriously. I'm fine." I emphasised but it was a lost debate. Even Zeyara had started fidgeting, concerned about my injured leg.

As realisation dawned on Sanan's face, he ended up smirking. "So you prefer to end up legless or probably even die because of loss of blood than letting me see your leg? The Islam I know, does not teach this at all."

"It's not necessary! I'm fine." I argued. He had already seen my face twice and it had caused enough fitnah for him to come propose me. I wasn't ready for more.

"Zawjati- l- let h-him." Zeyara managed to whisper.
That was it. I wasn't going to argue with Zeyara after all that happened.
I gave up and lifted my abaya to reveal the injury.

It really was awful and both of the boys flinched when they saw how deep it was.

"That's what you call perfect?" Sanan remarked incredulously. "You can easily say good bye to your leg if you don't get it treated."

I didn't care to reply, I was too busy trying not to scream as he added water to clean the wound.

Zeyara offered me his hand which I clenched as if my leg depended on it. He had been so patient when he was getting bandaged. I on the other hand felt as if someone was squeezing my leg from the inside.

At one point while the ointment was being applied I ended up screaming and shoving my leg into Sanan's face.

Sanan had to leave again but I did ask him what time it was before he left. It was Maghrib already. We made up all our lost prayers, even though we had to do tayammum and pray with just hand gestures. It felt strange not to be able to do sujood even though my soul was craving that.
So many things we take for granted.

Night fell upon us and I was about to drift off to dreamland where I could be at peace, playing back the best memories I had with Zeyara. An enormous explosion however, didn't allow that.
It wasn't just one, a series of smaller blasts continued after that. The horrific shockwaves made me feel as if I was in the middle of a battlefield.
I leaned in closer to Zeyara, feeling much weaker despite my previous commitment to myself that I would try to be stronger.

The walls shook so violently that I was positive the next bomb would land on us.

"N- not h-he here. Far aw-way" Zeyara whispered into my head. He was more experienced and knew more about explosions but it didn't give me comfort. Whether the bombs were near or not, they were still bombs.
Bombs killing people.

Whenever I would calm myself down thinking the bombing had stopped, another explosion would be heard, bringing back my nerves.
They didn't stop the whole night. Nor did we sleep the whole night.

The next day, or maybe it was the same day for I had no track of time, the door I had begun hating, opened once again.

This time it was the ruthless face of the terrorist commander along with five other monsters and Sanan.
All of them with heavy kalashnikovs hanging from their shoulders with grim faces and a stench that revolted me. Must have been ages since they last bathed.

The leader barked something in Arabic, waving his weapon around in a threatening tone.

I didn't understand a word of it, especially since his dialect was completely different to the Syrian one I was acquainted to. Zeyara however, flinched by the severity of his words.

The terrorist glanced at Sanan after finishing his mini speech. Sanan nodded slightly and addressed me, translating the Arabic words.

Probably because he knew the terrorists couldn't understand English, Sanan took the advantage. "This mad man with brain the size of a date seed was saying that Alnihayya has declared war against Israel. You two must have heard the explosions last night. The war has begun. Now these faithless idiots, after seeing the advanced weapons of the Alnihayya force are saying they will set you two free if you promise that Alnihayya would only attack Israel and not ISIS."

"The war already started?!" I uttered, totally stunned by the revelation. The only thing I could grasp from Sanan's words was that the war had started.
Without me or Zeyara.
We were supposed to be leading the forces, we had planned out all the strategies. Who else could start the war? And that too, so mercilessly that the first thing they did was dropping the bombs.
I glanced at Zeyara in absolute terror. What if they don't follow our plan at all? We had planned to not harm the civilians at all and only absolve the government and military.
Not following our plan meant mass massacre of innocent people.
This was completely against the Alnihayya reforms!

The terrorists had demanded Sanan to translate my answer into Arabic for them but by the looks of it, he wasn't telling them the correct words.
"I'll just tell them you accept this offer." He addressed me again.

"But I don't!" I immediately dejected, frowning at the mere idea of that happening after I had seen them slaughter a human being in front of me. "They deserve to be fought against more than Israel or anyone else! They use God's name to kill people!"

"I'm not saying you have to keep your promise! Just say that for getting out."

"I won't make fake promises to terrorists!" I almost screamed at him. If I had the power I would've hung each and every one of them to die.

Sanan gave up arguing with me and passed my answer to the waiting monsters. I was expecting my answer to enrage them but instead they seemed happy.

It occurred to me a long time after they had left that they must've been happy because Sanan told them the opposite of what I had said.
I asked Zeyara in distress and he confirmed my speculation.

"San-an told them- w-we acc-ept." There was no strength in my husband's voice, just a whisper.

Had I not learnt my lesson, I would've started arguing with Zeyara as to why he didn't speak up at that time and stop Sanan.
But now I knew better to trust Zeyara's judgement so I didn't say a word. Perhaps accepting the offer was better for us.

Must've been three hours after the terrorists left us when the ground shook with the loudest, most deafening blast I had ever heard. Like thunder itself had hit the building. The wall on my left came down in one go, reducing to a ruined mass of bricks, sections of the ceiling coming down in chunks. Had Zeyara not pulled me away at the last moment, I would've been long buried under a grave of concrete.

Screams of men resonated in my ears, along with the cacophony of falling ceilings and walls.
Explosions always follow with a sense of desperation, of wanting to see everyone you care about. Even if you know they are not at the site of the blast and are safe, you just don't trust yourself and have to see them to convince yourself.

He was right in front of me, yet my hands reached out to touch Zeyara's head, his face, his hands.
I could feel little Zeyara Suleiman's pain more deeply now, and the pain of all the people in terror stricken countries. Those whose hands, unlike me, couldn't reach out and touch their loved ones to convince themselves that they were still there. Because they weren't.

Grey, blinding smoke rose from every corner of the room by the explosive impact. One moment I found myself coughing and Zeyara struggling to breathe, the next moment I could see a horse. I though I had probably lost my senses and gone crazy but a human figure appeared later, a silhouette coming closer and closer until I recognised him to be Sanan.

"Zeyara first!" I demanded between my coughs, pulling his hand off my arm.

He tried grabbing me once again but I wasn't going to give in. "Zeyara first!" I emphasised, hurling myself away.

He surrendered then and rushed to heave Zeyara off the floor with difficulty. Zeyara was heavy and couldn't even move a single limb. I was positive about Sanan leaving him behind and that was the reason I had forced him to get Zeyara first.
Another smaller explosion was heard as Sanan managed to tie Zeyara on Tufan's back and hurried towards me.

He pulled me up, letting me support half my weight on him.
All I could see as we hastened out were the crumbled walls, whistling smoke and terrorists, most of them buried under heaps of fallen concrete, others bleeding, running around in panic.

Sanan toddled slowly ignoring everything. One arm supporting me, the other hand grabbing Tufan's reins to guide the distressed animal who had neighed many times now.

A fallen terrorist suddenly grabbed Sanan's ankle in the commotion, almost causing us to fall. His effort was of no use as another explosion caused the wall behind him to collapse, hiding him away from the face of the earth. The crash sent fear in Tufan and he ran blinded by the smoke, dragging me and Sanan behind him.

Only one of my legs was working and just when I thought I would lose that one too because of being dragged at a painful angle by a confused animal, we were finally out of the building and under the dark night sky.

Tufan's didn't stop, nor did Sanan want him to stop for he knew if it were not for Tufan, we would've never had the energy to run for so long.
After an hour of being dragged on one leg which I could no longer feel, with eyes drooping close with the waves of pain I had been fighting and a stomach which was ready to accept even stones as food, Sanan stopped.
I fell down.
As if I was a frail puppet being held by one last string which had been suddenly cut. I tried standing up but my legs weren't the same anymore. They were weak and shaky, unable to support me. Sanan was gasping for breath, so was I. Our bodies starving for oxygen after perhaps the most tiring run of our lives. The dark sky was starless, moonless. The pitch black night made the world invisible. I stopped fighting my tired eyes, let them close. Gradually but smoothly, sleep became another layer of hijab on the already covered world.

☆

Assalam o alaikum everyone!
EID MUBARAK TO ALL who are celebrating today!

I'm already back to routine. :(
The fun is over. I HAD TO SPEND MY DAY IN A HOSPITAL SURROUNDED BY SICK PEOPLE!
it was so saaad and such a depressing atmosphere!

So just a reminder tha cherish your health. We ignore how It is such a big gift from Allah SWT. :)

-Muskaan

ps. even Zeyara and Mashal are sick.