E i g h t e e n
This one is for Szkiayani :)

PG-16(mild sexual harrassment)

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"The only thing stronger than fear is hope."

-Sent in by FarzanaBai-

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Mashal

I had always wanted a world tour but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I would be going from England to Syria but instead, would end up in Pakistan and from there I would reach Afghanistan.

I mean, what an amazing world tour.

Ignoring everything that had happened, I had eaten the dinner the women gave to me after Sanan left.

It was cold meatballs with rice and even though it wasn't the most delicious, I still ate like my life depended on it, because it really did. I was starving.

Being the curious cat that I am, I had asked those women who they were and found out that they were the widows of those terrorists who had done suicide attacks or were killed by Alnihayya.

One of them, Shafin, was just my age, seventeen and pregnant, she kept on crying aboyt how her child would never be able to see his father.

And I learned for the first time ever, that terrorism is not beneficial for anyone, not even for the terrorists themselves.

That made me just so sad that without complaining, I prayed isha and curled into a ball on the floor, beneath the blanket of soft furs and dozed off.

The next day, the chirping of birds in the chill hour before fajr woke me up.
I looked around to find the women still asleep around me, wrapped up in numerous self made blankets.

It was still dark and I knew no one was going to wake up anytime soon so I slid my hand underneath my abaya to reach the back pocket of my pant. My fingers felt the touch of metal and I sighed in relief.

My phone was still there.

After inspecting around me one last time to make sure no one was watching, I took it out.
The first thing I did was turning it to silent mode and reducing the brightness to the lowest but when my eyes landed on the network signals, I knew my phone would be of no use.

We were somewhere near the border of Pakistan and Afghanistan in a completely uninhabited place, there was no way I was going to find any signals here.

On the brighter side, I could use it as a torch.

I ruffled out of the furs, trying to make as little noise as possible, not wanting to wake the women up.
It was not time for fajr yet but I wanted to pray witr. I couldn't find any water around, nor was there any space in the hut for me to pray. It was all just crowded with the sleeping bodies of those women.

Even though I knew that going out at that time wasn't a good idea but that was my only option.

Being skinny comes in handy in situations like these. I just had to open the door a little to make space for me. I slipped out quietly under the silent sky in teeth shattering cold.

There was no one outside and I was glad. The last thing I wanted was those men out here.
Using my mobile as a light source, I scanned the outdoors to look for a water source and spotted a hand pump near one of the huts on the other side.

I walked over to it slowly, with the moon still overhead. It was not a full moon anymore but since there was no pollution out here, it glistened in its full glory along with the countless stars.

I had just pressed the pump once, releasing the cool water, when I heard heavy footsteps from behind me. My heart skipped a beat and I turned around, looking for the one who had made that sound but there was no one around.

Thinking that I had just imagined that, I turned back around to the water pump and was about to press it once more when someone grabbed my arm harshly. I shrieked and tried to pull it away as a reflex action but the man grabbed my other arm as well, causing my mobile to slip out of my embrace and onto the floor.

Thankfully it didn't break but instead the torch on my mobile, illuminated the face of the terrorist who was holding my arms.

I gasped in horror as soon as I recognised that wide greasy smile. It was the same terrorist who had called me 'spoils of war' and that he could share me. I could smell alcohol on his breath as he stared at me lustfully.

His naked stare shook me and I trembled in fear trying to get myself free. "Let me go!" I screamed, trying to fight him off.

"I will but not so soon." He laughed, pushing me back towards the wall.

"Don't you fear Allah?" I murmured, as tears escaped my eyes. No one had ever looked at me that way.

It was just so disgusting. As if I was nothing more than a piece of meat, made for his entertainment.

He whistled as he heard my words and saw my tears. "Don't worry. Its not going to hurt that much."
I closed my eyes and shook my head vigorously, causing my tears to sprinkle around like a shower. "No.....no."

Completely ignoring my tears and pleads, he ripped the veil off my face, tearing it apart and I screamed once again, without opening my eyes. Knowing that my screams might wake someone up, the terrorist covered my mouth with his filthy hands, muffling out my vocie.

"Shhhh! We don't want anyone to disturb us. Do we?" He chuckled, caressing my cheek with his cold finger.

I had still kept my eyes closed. I didn't want to be the witness of what was happening and what was about to happen. Having someone see me without my face veil was already a huge blow to my dignity and morals and now he had even started touching me.

I kept on resisting, trying to get out of his hold but in vain. He was just too strong for me. I winced as he roughly pulled off my hijab, revealing my dark curly hair which blew around my face in the cold wind. I couldn't take it anymore. No one was supposed to see my hair except the one I had been saving them for.

That was it.
After that I stopped fighting and gave up. I just stood there silently, waiting for it to happen, with my eyes still closed.

One. Two. Three.
I was counting the seconds as they passed by, waiting for it to be over but then nothing happened. I felt his hand being removed from my mouth and leaving my arms. His body was no longer pressed against mine and I couldn't comprehend what had caused a sudden change of his plan.

I still had my eyes closed and filled with tears, when I felt someone lowering my scarf on my head. I immediately pulled it around and fixed it in place.
I was in a deep state of shock and trauma when I finally decided to open my eyes, after pulling a part of my scarf on my face as a veil.

First my eyes diverted to the ground where the terrorist lay unconscious with blood oozing out of his forehead and also a pair legs.
My eyes moved up on the legs and landed on a man, facing the opposite direction so that his back was towards me.

I knew he had to be my saviour. He was the one who hit the terrorist so hard that he lost concious and fell to the floor. He was the one who gave me my scarf back and then turned around the other way so that he doesn't see my face or hair.
He must have seen it but the way he just turned away instead of taking advatange of me was too humble.

I was still staring at his back, with heavy sobs escaping my lips when he finally turned to look at me.

The light was dim and tears had blurred my vision but I could easily recognize the person.
The same tall agile man with an aristocratic face. It was Sanan who had saved me.

Just seeing his face, made all my gratitude wash away. Instead of thanking him, I wanted to hit him. It all happened because of him. If he hadn't brought me here, none of this would've happened.

"You caused this to happen!" I bellowed at him with my shaky voice and teary face. "You almost destroyed me. I hate you! You terrorists are murderers, rapists and not muslims! For every second that man touched me and stared at me, may Allah burn you in the pit of hell."

I saw his face change expression to a worried one but I didn't wait for his response. I rushed past him and ran to the women's hut.

Closing the door abruptly, I fell to the ground and hid myself under the fur blanket. I was crying my eyes out on my own pitiful state. Wherever that man touched felt as if that place was burning and even though I had closed my eyes the whole time, it still felt as if it happened in front of my eyes.
His naked stare was still inscribed in my mind and I think it would remain there for years to come.

I was living a nightmare and I couldn't wake up from it.

The sound of my muffled sobs woke up some of the women and they shook me a little asking why I was crying but I refused to say anything or take the blanket off me.
After fifteen minutes of begging me to tell them what happened, they stopped and I was glad.
Glad that I could cry in peace.

I had been crying a lot this year. It made me realise how weak I really am. Both, emotionally and physically. I couldn't even defend myself from that terrorist. I have to do something about it. As soon as I get out of here, I'm gonna get trained.

I have no idea how long I stayed under the dark furs and cried. Maybe a few hours or so but when I finally took it off my face, my eyes blinked a thousand times adjusting to the sharp daylight that had spread everywhere.

I looked around but the hut was empty. The women were not there. It was only me and I could smell roasting meat outside which indicated that the women must've gone out to cook on a pyre of wood set aflame.

I sat up in my blanket, realising that I had missed fajr which made me even more sad.
At the same time I knew that Allah is Merciful and he knows what happened, he would forgive me.

I heard someone knock the door, startling me. I couldn't understand why the women would knock....unless it's not a woman. I set my hijab in place hastily, just before the door opened and Sanan walked in.

I was still sitting there on the floor with my blanket and when my eyes met his, I immediately looked away in disgust. I hated that man.

I didn't say a word as he quietly shifted and sat down on the furs right in front of me but at a safe distance.
"How are you feeling now?" He asked, staring down at the ground between us.

Is that even a question after all that happened to me? I had never felt more hatred towards anyone before, as much as I felt towards Sanan.

I didn't care to reply, thinking that he might just stop trying to talk to me and leave.

But instead he kept on speaking in a low polite voice. "I'm sorry Mashal. This shouldn't have happened. I expelled that man from our group."

As if expelling him would make any difference. He would just go and join some other group of ISIS.

"Please....talk to me." He sighed in an air of despair.

Never.

"Okay then. I'll tell you a story. After that you can decide if me being a mujahid is wrong or right."

I was not going to say a word to him but I couldn't contain my silence after what he said. "How dare you call yourself a mujahid? You are nothing but a terrorist!"

He just frowned, ignoring my bitter remark and continued speaking, "There was this woman once. She was an orphan. Lost both of her parents when she was still a teenager."

Sanan's voice kept on going deeper and more serious with every word that even though I wanted to ignore his words, I couldn't.

I listened carefully as he kept on speaking, while staring at nothing in particular. "However she worked hard and got a degree and a job. She lived alone in a dark alley because of the low rent of that place. She had to go to work at seven in the morning and then come back home at eight in the night. Life was going amazing for her. She had even got a marriage proposal from one of her co workers and she had happily agreed to get married to him. Then one night, when she was going home from work......."

Sanan paused after this, increasing my anticipation of what was about to happen. I had never imagined I would be interested in the story he was telling but now I was really impatient to know what happened. "Then what?" I asked impatiently, looking at him for the first time since he came to the hut.

He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. I could see his eyes going red with anger and grief but I couldnt understand why until he told the rest of the story. "There were drunk men on the streets and she got raped. Thrice. They all took turns. She cried and she cried and she cried. She screamed and begged for help. There were people living in that street. They could clearly hear her pleads piercing theough the silent night but they didn't care to help. No one came to her rescue. The beasts left her there on the cold street, helpless for the whole night. The next day, people passed by her, giving her glares of unacceptance but no one cared to help. No one even cared to take her back to her house. She was sitting there, in a despicable state at the corner of the street. Knowing that no one was going to come to her help, she finally gathered her courage and stood up. She walked like that.....in her torn clothes back to her house with people laughing at her in the streets. She didn't know where to go except for the police station. She went there and told them she got raped. They laughed at her and whistled. They asked if she enjoyed that. They said If she wanted that fun again, they could arrange that for her-"

Sanan snapped at that moment, bursting into tears like a little kid. I was aware of my own tears too, but I didn't have anything to say to stop him from crying.

What could i say?

"She- she went home. She was sick, very sick. Couldn't even walk properly. She went to the hospital and realised she was pregnant. She had no one, she didnt know where to go and who to ask for help except for her co worker who she was engaged to. She told him everything that had happened, thinking that he might provide her with support and acceptance. But instead he looked disgusted. He broke off the engagement to her saying that he couldn't have a 'second hand' wife."

Sanan paused once again to wipe his tears. He was a strong, built up man from outside and I would've never thought he could cry. But there he was, not hiding his tears at all. Making me realise that even the strongest, toughest of men have a soft heart.

"Who..who are you talking about?" I asked, slowly, in between my cries.

He looked up at me then, right into my eyes as he spoke. "My mother. And I am the child she was pregnant with."

I was temporarily shocked with the strong emotion in the air. I was lost for words and gasping for air. I didn't know what to say, how to console the crying man in front of me that everything would be alright. I didn't want to say anything wrong either. That would make him very angry. Now I uderstood the reason he became so harsh when I mentioned his mother last night.

"You can call it terrorism but for me it's a fight. I want to avenge what happened to my mother. You keep on telling me that I am not a Muslim but tell me Mashal, were they Muslims, the ones who raped my mother, the ones who laughed at her and mocked her and the man who called her second hand?"

I didn't say anything, I just stared away, wiping the tears with the back of my hand. I couldn't help but thank Allah that he saved me from being raped. What if the same thing happened to me?

"Tell me?!" He demanded, getting furious at my lack of words.

"I- I don't know. I'm sorry." I huffed under my breath.

"Look up at me then and tell me that I am right for being-"

"No!" I interrupted him roughly, "No matter what happened, you can't justify that for killing millions of people across the globe. If they were bad, Allah will be their judge. You don't have to kill people. You're not God. You can't judge!"

I watched as his frown widened with hurt and he looked away from me. "We are going to Syria today." He said sternly, before getting up and walking out.

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So people, what do you think of Sanan now?
😢

Have a happy emotional day.

-Muskaan.