T w e n t y
This one is for xhenax
:)

Muskaan
They had pretty busy lives but I finally managed to convince them for a photo shoot. I had to tell Mashal that there are no boys here to get her veil off. 😂

So before you start thinking I've gone mad,
I would like you all to meet;

Nadeem Malik

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Sanan

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Marwa Suleiman

Zeyara Suleiman

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Mashal Naeem

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Ibrahim Naeem

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Naeem Ansar

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Someday we might even get a chance to interview them! 😉
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Mashal
There was not a single sound in the medical section of the underground Alnihayya headquarters at this late hour. Still, I could hear the sound of deadly gun shots playing on repeat in my mind.
Each time they would strike Sanan and cause a wounded image of him reappear infront of my eyes.

"You need to rest. You can't just stay awake the whole night." Zeyara sighed in despair, his voice echoing in the empty coridoor.

The coridoor was narrow with two rows of benches facing each other on either side. He was sitting right in front of me but we hadn't talked ever since Sanan went into the emergency ward.

I had my legs pulled up on the bench with my arms around them and my head dugged in. Now that Zeyara had addressed me, I rose my head up and looked at him. "I can." I replied gloomily in a low voice.

I could never think of sleeping till I get to know that Sanan is out of danger.

Zeyara shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand why you are feeling sympathy for a terrorist!" His voice was louder now and frightening too.

"He isn't a terrorist" I replied, "not anymore. You shouldn't have shot him. At least you could've confirmed-"

"Mashal he was involved in killing Naeem Ansar. The founder of Alnihayya, your father!" Zeyara answered, frustration clear on his tired face.

I paused and couldn't speak anymore after this new piece of information.
Sanan killed my father.
It was too hard to digest and I didn't want it to be true.
But I knew it was true.
Then again, he was different back then. I know he can't do this sort of thing again. Everyone deserves second chances.

"He didn't know what he was doing. I am sure he won't do such a thing again."

Zeyara stared at me, mouth agape incredulously. "So you forgive him for killing your father? I'm sorry but unlike you, all those innocent children who lost their parents and all those parents who lost their children, won't be willing to forgive him ever." His voice was bitter and full of hate directed towards Sanan.

I couldn't argue at this point.
He was not mine to forgive or decide whether he is innocent or not. I just wish it wasn't like that.
To escape from this scary reality, I dug my head back inside, without replying to Zeyara.

A while later, I heard a very familiar message beep tone. My mobile was still back in Afghanistan so I guessed it to be Zeyara's phone.
Followed by, the smashing of something against the tiled floor, startled me and I immediately looked up.

Zeyara had thrown his phone on the floor with so much force that it had shattered completely with tiny glass bits scattered on the floor.
I gasped, looking up at a very angry Zeyara. I had never seen him so full of rage and fury before. "Zeyara-" I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat.

"I shouldn't have brought him here!" He wailed, "I should've killed him on sight!"

I knew those words were directed towards Sanan but I couldn't comprehend why. What made Zeyara so furious was out of my imagination.
"Zeyara calm-"

"Don't!" He interrupted me, getting up from where he was sitting, "He was gonna die but because of you I brought him here." He spat with gritted teeth, staring at me directly, without any shyness that previously used to be there.

I shifted a bit on the bench as he walked up nearer to me. I don't know why but I couldn't manage to be afraid of Zeyara. I had started trusting him fully. "You know what happened Mashal? I got a text message from my little sister."

I swallowed my saliva, thinking how a simple text from Marwa could make Zeyara so heated over Sanan.
"You know what she said?" He asked, his eyes never leaving mine, which made me severely uncomfortable.

I nodded my head negatively.

"She said it's our mother's birthday today. She texted me right at 12 o' clock."

I still couldn't understand how that was linked to Sanan.

"But we can't celebrate it with our mother, you know why?" He asked and then without waiting for my reply, added, "Because she got killed in one of the bomb explosions led by Sanan."

I felt my breath hitched and throat dry. So this was the connection between Sanan and Zeyara that made Zeyara loathe him. Fear and realisation both washed my face.
Zeyara would not leave Sanan alive.

In the midst of our conversation, the door of the emergency ward opened and a doctor with a green surgeon's mask, stepped out.
When he saw us, he walked up, taking his mask off. He began to speak, addressing Zeyara. He was speaking arabic and I could only understand a few words in his sentence. 'Patient', 'danger', 'loss' and 'blood'.

Saying this he walked off, leaving me with a heart beating at the speed of a Ferrari. Next to me I could see Zeyara clenching his fists in anguish.
"What did he say?" I asked him in my state of distress.

Zeyara glanced at me briefly and I could see he was genuinely hurt. "Congratulations." He muttered in a sarcastic tone. "The killer of your father and my mother is safe."

I felt relieved as soon as those words left Zeyara's mouth. I ignored the poisoned words in his sentence and accepted the good ones. "Alhamdulilah!" I shrieked with happiness running in my veins.

Without saying anything more, Zeyara walked away from me in the opposite direction as I stood there rooted to the ground. "Zeyara where are you going?" I asked to his back.

He stopped and turned around to face me. Disappointment was clear on his face. He looked exhausted and hopeless. He was in his secret agent get up which I now realised, was actually the uniform of Alnihayya. His curls had grown longer than the last time I saw him. They were all over the place.

"Come on. We have to go now. Stop thinking of that terrorist and you should because he will be taken to the court and they would prosecute him."

He turned back as I gasped in horror. All I could think of now was what Zeyara said about Sanan's prosecution. The judge would straight up get him executed in front of a mass of people just like what happens to all the terrorists who get caught!

"No!" I exclaimed "Don't let that happen Zeyara."

"We have to sleep now. Its past 12. We'll talk about it tomorrow." He dejected without looking back.

I couldn't argue with Zeyara anymore. He wouldn't listen to me at all. For him, and for all the other people, Sanan was just a terrorist.
Except for me.
I was the only one who knew his true story.

He wasn't bad.
Society made him bad.

Giving in, I followed Zeyara out of the medical section. The Alnihayya headquarters was spread out under the Syrian mountains. It was like a huge underground army base with its own mess, hospital and barracks where the troops slept.

This was such a huge project and my father had started it. The thought made me smile.

I was walking closely behind Zeyara and I realised I hadn't even talked to him properly since I came here. All I had talked to him about, was Sanan.
I still hadn't apologised to Zeyara for running away with Ibrahim.

I had been such an idiot. If I hadn't gone then none of this would've happened.

And Ibrahim! What about him? I haven't even inquired about his health.

Zeyara stopped abruptly outside a room. His sudden stop, interrupted my thought process.
"Here" He said, opening the room door. "You can have this room."

I nodded slightly and walked in. Zeyara walked in after me and switched on the light, illuminating the room. It was a small plain white room with a single bed on the side and a wooden cupboard on the far end. I could see a small door on one end, maybe the bathroom.

I was still scanning the room when I heard Zeyara's footsteps moving away from me.
"Zeyara." I murmured shyly, just before he left the room.

He turned around to face me with a questioning look on his face.

"I....I don't know how to say it but I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry." I whispered, looking down at the ground between us. I was too ashamed to face him.

"For?" He asked plainly.

"You know what I mean. Please don't make me say it. I really am sorry. I shouldn't have called you a liar."

I looked up to see that he was smiling now. All his anger and frustration from before was gone. "I thought you would never say it. I thought you only cared about Sanan."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked quickly. I was not getting the point.

"Nevermind" He shrugged "And to be honest I did lie to you about not knowing urdu and not being a secret agent. Because look at me, I am one."

"You wish." I rolled my eyes playfully. It felt so good to talk to him again. I had never realised how much I had missed him.

Well, finally all is good. He admitted he knows urdu.

Oh my God.
Wait.
He knows urdu?!!

"Zeyara you know urdu!" I exclaimed out loud in shock.
"Yeah...you already found that out." Zeyara replied as if I had lost my mind.

But I had not lost my mind. Actually my mind was taking me back to the time when Mrs. Shamim first saw us and I translated her sentences wrong to Zeyara.

"Don't tell me you know what Mrs. Shamim said!"

Zeyara chuckled at this and his eyes glistened as realisation hit him. "Okay. I won't tell you that she said we were married."

I bit my lip to hide the smile that dared to make its way to my lips when he said that. It wasn't a happy smile it was an embarrassed smile. My whole face was flushed red and I couldn't make eye contact with Zeyara.
To be honest, I don't think I would ever be able to make eye contact with him again after knowing this. "You shouldn't have done that." I whispered in my embarrassed low voice, my cheeks still burning red.

"I'm sorry for that but we have to hide our true identity as much as we can. You know.....just like secret agents." He boasted, giving the conversation a light and funny atmosphere. "And anyways Mrs. Shamim didn't say anything that would hurt you or me-" Zeyara shut up in mid sentence, contemplating what he had said.

I was so embarrassed that I wanted to dug up a grave for myself and hide in it.

"Uh- I know its getting akward. I should leave now." Zeyara stated, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, realising what he had just said earlier.

It was truly getting akward. The tension was growing in the air around us. Thank you so much Mrs. Shamim.

"I just wanted to ask one more thing." I raised my head to look at him expectantly. He nodded, indicating me to continue. "Ibrahim.....do you know where he is?"

Please say yes.

"Yes." He said, making me smile. "He's actually here in the headquarters. He was wounded and struggling for life but Alhamdulillah I reached the airport in time and took him to the hospital. I am going to go and send him to your room."

I didn't reply, just stared into his eyes, speechless.
"What?" Zeyara asked softly, at my weird reaction.

"I'm just.....I don't know how to thank you Zeyara. First you kept on saving me and now even my brother. I can't even explain how thankful I am. You were just a neighbour-"

"Please." Zeyara said, agitated with a frown replacing his smile. "After all this Mashal, at least don't call me just your neighbour."

I looked down and smiled. "Okay."

After that seemingly long and akward conversation, Zeyara went to bring Ibrahim to meet me while I waited, sitting there impatiently, playing with my fingers.

Everyone was on my mind right now. Sanan, Ibrahim and most of all, Zeyara.
In the weirdest way possible, these three men were dominating my world.

"Mashal!"
Recognising that voice, better than I could recognise my own voice, I stood up with my emotions on fire.

"Big brother!" I squeled, running up to where he was standing near the doorway.

I didn't care that Zeyara was also standing behind Ibrahim, I just threw my arms around Ibrahim and buried my head in his warm chest. He smelled like home, like family, like love and I'm pretty sure he smelled like my parents.

I broke into tears as I inhaled him, not wanting to part from my little family
again.

We humans are strange beings.
We never cry when we know no one would come to wipe our tears but when we know someone will come, we cry as If our life depends on it.

"Mashal" He mumbled, kissing the top of my head. "I'm sorry I-"

"Don't!" I hushed, quickly covering his mouth to stop him from completing his sentence. "I know everything. I know I love you. You know when they- they were hitting you and I couldn't." I shook my head as I said the last part with tears sprinkling out.

"Hey I'm fine now. Its okay." He smiled at me reassuringly and pulled me closer again. "Tell me Mashal did he touch you? Because if he did, I'm going to kill hi-"

"No!" I answered into his chest "He didn't. He actually saved me from ending up like that. Sanan is not bad. I don't want him to die."

"Mashal are you crazy?" Ibrahim whined in shock, breaking the hug. "He's a terrorist. He is as bad as bad can be."

"That's exactly what I've been trying to tell her." Zeyara huffed from behind us, making us turn to look at him. Both, me and Ibrahim had forgotten he was here. "Yeah. Keep on pretending I'm not here." He said sarcastically.

We chuckled at this, making the air lighter again.

Zeyara and Ibrahim stayed with me a few minutes more, talking about random stuff and asking about how I was but everytime the topic of Sanan came up, they both just wouldn't agree that he was not bad.

They told me that the court will decide about Sanan tomorrow. If he is to be hanged, they would hang him as soon he recovers. That was kind of a sick rule. I mean if they wanted to kill him, why heal him in the first place?

For Zeyara, he was the killer of his mother.
For Ibrahim, he was the killer of his father and the kidnapper of his sister.

But for me, I was determined to save him. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I was.

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