His mother was cowering on the floor, mumbling muted apologies as his father stepped forward to hit her once again. He hated it when Zaheer made him watch. It made him feel small. It made him feel powerless.

He couldn't step in knowing that he wouldn't always be around and when he wasn't around, Zaheer would take it out on her all over again. He tried looking elsewhere but every time he heard the sound of skin against skin, his eyes involuntarily glanced toward her all over again. His heart was breaking more and more watching the way his father knelt down beside her, catching hold of her collar before mumbling whatever crude thing he wanted to into her ears. And she would only nod and say that she was sorry before he hurt her all over again.

"Hit her."

His breath hitched.

He didn't just hear Zaheer say those words.

It wasn't real.

"Hit her." He opened Riaz's clenched fist before he closed it around the cold metal of his belt buckle.

"No." He hated saying those words to his father. There was only retribution that followed those words but he couldn't do it. His mother was his soul and to break his own mother would be to break his own soul.

"Hit her."

Riaz knew Zaheer was punishing his for covering up for Claire. He had lied on the phone when his father asked where she was. He didn't want to tell him that she was sleeping because Zaheer hated when she slept in the afternoons.

This was his punishment for protecting her. To protect her- he would have to hurt her.

But he couldn't do it.

"I said," Zaheer stepped closer to Claire, using Riaz's love for his mother against him. "Hit her."

"No."

Zaheer hovered over Claire and slowly opened the first button of her bright pink blouse. He was going to humiliate her in the worst of ways because of what Riaz had done but he couldn't stop it. He couldn't do what his father demanded of him. Zaheer opened another button, then another and another until eventually his mother's top half was bare before him save for her bra. He wanted to throw up at the sight in front of him. She had thick purple bruises up and down her chest and stomach that seemed as if they were painted over a faded yellow and green canvas. There was not one part of her that didn't hurt or that wasn't bruised or wounded. Riaz wanted to lift her up and cover her up in his shirt and take her away.

He wanted her to be so far away from that even his memory would fail to harm her but there was no place far enough that they could go to get away from him.

"Why are you hesitating? What is she worth anyway?" His father's controlled voice sounded from the floor. "Look at her." Claire was barely even aware that she was half naked on the floor. She could only mumbled her apologies and beg for it all to stop and beg for him to love her. "She's just..."

Zaheer looked down at her once again before he shrugged carelessly. "She's pathetic and you'd still risk yourself to protect her. She won't even protect herself anymore so why does it matter?" Zaheer pushed against one of the nastier bruises on her side but she barely even flinched. She could only mumble incoherently to herself as she looked away from her son standing above her.

Riaz shook his head- his eyes were wailing, protesting, fighting against him. They couldn't bear to look at his mother anymore. His heart ached, broke and shattered when Zaheer did nothing else except casually look at the shiny, sticky substance he had spat out as it spread out along the top of Claire's broken and beaten chest.

"Absolutely pathetic." Zaheer scoffed as Claire only wiped the spittle away with her hand and looked away from him once again. "Now do as I say boy."

"No." He would never do it.

Zaheer stood up, walking slowly to stand beside his son. "No?"

Riaz shook his head- words failing him as fear caused his throat to swell and his voice seemed to get lost amongst the dread he was beginning to feel.

Zaheer took out a box of matches from his back pocket, striking a flame to life before he held it out in front of his eyes.

"No."

Zaheer nodded his head slowly, as if contemplating his reply before he tossed the match casually to the ground barely missing Claire's open stomach.

"No? You sure about that?" He asked, lighting another match.

"Yes."

His match didn't even hit the floor as the sound of skin against skin could be heard before Riaz felt the crunch of bone against his own knuckles.

Yet Claire lay on the ground completely unharmed watching as Zaheer staggered to the floor from the force of his son's blow.

Riaz would never realise just how angry he had made him until a few weeks later when Zaheer forced him to burn from the inside out...

...

Here we go round the prickly pear

Prickly pear prickly pear

Here we go round the prickly pear

At 5 o clock in the morning.

It is like this

In death's other kingdom

Waking alone.

This is the dead land.

This is cactus land.

This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends...

...

Tasneem felt exposed on the examination table dressed only in a thin blue paper gown.

The gynaecologist was kind and old and sweet but Tasneem hated her all the same.

"And how old are you?"

"I'm 22." She said softly, wishing she was anywhere else but there in that moment. She had felt violated as the doctor probed her with that cold metal object yet she never once remarked on the bruising along her inner thigh or the roughness of his actions that showed itself on her skin.

All she wanted to know was whether or not she was having sex but she never cared about whether it was done willingly or unwillingly.

"And how many partners have you had?"

Partners.

The term implied that it was chosen of her own volition.

Her 'partner' wasn't hers of her own choosing and her own consent.

She had forgotten what it felt like to wish she had another partner. She had forgotten imagining what it may have felt like to have him run his fingers through her hair or kiss her gently and softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to stand closer to him. She had forgotten picturing what he may have looked like as he kissed her or the look in his eyes as he touched her almost devotedly, memorising every curve of her body and every angle of her face as held her.

No. Her partner was nothing but a ghost that haunted her nights and plagued her dreams but her doctor didn't care about any of those things. She only wanted to know how many people Tasneem had sex with in her short, tiny life.

"Just one." The answer felt as if it were wrenched out from the darkest, dirtiest corner of her soul.

"Do you use condoms?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"Can you describe what happened exactly."

No, she couldn't describe what happened when her brother was having sex with her.

He was already touching her before he lowered the sheet covering her naked body two hours after he had let her be. She wasn't there though- she was already gone somewhere far away when he began to kiss her and when his tongue invaded her mouth. She wasn't there...

She wasn't there as he tore open the condom package or nudged her legs apart but as soon as he tried coaxing her body to accommodate him- she was ripped out of her mind by the burning sensation taking over her whole being.

"Stop it please!" She cried out, when he tried forcing himself inside her but he wouldn't fit. "It's hurting too much. Please stop."

His eyes opened at the sheer panic and pain being hurled at him through her whimpers and cries. Her knuckles were white as she fisted her hands- imagining blood spilling from the half crescents in her skin imprinted by her fingernails.

He moved his hands away from her legs as he tried moving away from her but every action of his caused her to gasp in pain before he stood up, dressed himself and walked away.

"It felt as if my skin was burning whenever he tried doing anything." She answered- trying to be as short as possible.

"For how long have you two been sexually active?"

She wanted to vomit.

She wanted to have her insides splayed across the surgical white tiles at the thought of her answer.

"About a year and a half." Her voice sounded hoarse and strange to her own ears as if someone else had taken over her body and spoke for her.

"Has he been using a different condom brand?"

"I don't know."

"From what it looks like, it seems as if you've had an allergic reaction to the condom or the lubricant that he's been using. There was some swelling and redness around the area but nothing too serious."

Oh...

Why couldn't she just die?

Why couldn't she just kill herself and leave this world. Why couldn't she just leave him? What did she even have to live for anymore? She couldn't hold a job because she could never focus long enough and she couldn't even finish her course because she just...

She couldn't do anything. She had nothing to live for. She was empty and cold and nothing would ever make her feel warm again.

"... I think we should run a few tests just to be sure. So I'll just need a blood sample and I'll probably call you back in the next week or so to discuss the results."

"Okay."

Maybe she would have a disease and she would die. If she didn't take any medication then she wouldn't get better and maybe, just maybe, she'd be free.

"All done?" He was waiting for her in the waiting room.

She said nothing- she barely even glanced at him before she walked away. She wished she could walk a little faster but it still felt too uncomfortable to walk and he caught up to her.

"Don't worry. There's still other things we could do."

...

The room was quiet save for the beeps on the monitor.

She was still asleep, still fighting with her body for death. She was pale- she was so white that her freckles seemed black across her nose and her hair looked as if it were slowing sucking the life out of her skin. He needed to know that she would be okay. He coulnd't leave until he knew but she didn't seem to want to ever be okay. What had Zaheer done to her to make her think that her life was no longer worth living? He had broken her already but now she was completely destroyed and he didn't know if she would ever be fixed.

He wished he had never left her. He wished he had never...

"What are you doing here?"

He looked down at her, shocked to have heard her croak as he looked down into her bright green eyes.

"Why did you do it?"

"Why didn't you come back?" She asked, sounding so small as she looked down at the tubes defiling her hands.

Why didn't he go back?

He had no answer to give her except the truth.

"I didn't want to come back." He stood up from the seat beside her bed and turned away towards the door. "I'm going to find a doctor."

He couldn't bear to be in the same room as her for a second longer. He loved his sister- he did with everything he had- but being with her reminded him of the hatred he felt towards her and he didn't want to remember it anymore. He didn't want to hate her but looking at her and listening to her voice made him recall every moment that allowed that hatred to build and build until he began to hate her with everything he had in him too.

He walked down the corridor, trying hard to ignore the stench of the disinfectant flooding the hallways. It assaulted his nose and the sharp alcoholic undertones only caused his eyes to water as he walked away. He needed to leave this place.

He needed to go. He was so close to never looking back until the call came and he was reminded of why it was that he needed to leave. He needed to leave his cowardice behind. Here, he was small and insignificant but if he left he...

And then she walked past...

...

When you go through the streets

No one recognises you.

No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks

At the carpet of red gold

That you tread as you pass,

The nonexistent carpet.

And when you appear

All the rivers sound

In my body, bells

Shake the sky,

And a hymn fills the world...

...

She knew what he meant by other things.

He would force her to go on her knees as he stood in front of her and lowered the zip of his pants...

But he had only forced her to do it once before. She had stained her carpet with her vomit that night as he walked away. She could still taste the vomit in her mouth and she felt bile rise up her throat as she remembered what it felt like.

She hated it. It sickened her. He used her as he would a dog and she hated it. She hated herself so much that she was sure if all the love that was ever created was placed in her heart- even that wouldn't help her to love herself again. She didn't want him to do what he had planned. 

He said she would like it if he kissed her in different places. She would like his mouth if...

Then he forced her to do the same thing to him.

She prayed he would be called away on business and that maybe he wouldn't step foot into her room that night. Maybe her younger brother would surprise them at home- Ibrahim's room was too nearby for him to do what he had planned. Maybe her mother would come home early. He never dared do the things he did to her with her mother in the room next door. He was afraid their mother would hear him as he took more and more of her body.

She didn't want to be alone with him. She was so terrified of him and she was so scared of being alone with him. She had come to fear the darkness yet the fear never faded even with the light. It was always dark where she was and no light could penetrate through.

Then she felt a tug at her hand and it wouldn't let go...

And when you appear

All the rivers sound

Only you and I,

Only you and I, my love,

Listen to me.

A/N Poems used in this chapter:

The Hollow Men by T.S Elliot

The Queen/ La Reina by Pablo Neruda