See It Through Her Eyes *On Hold*

Chapter 5

This is for my beautiful sister Strider. Thank you for always being there when it came to my writing <3 Your an amazing person! Love you :)x"

~OOO~

Wasalam, if you are reading this you must have found out the first letters were a cover up. This is me, Faridah. This is besides the point. All letter are checked before being delivered. It usually takes two months before they even begin to read over them. What I wrote in the past letters, still remains the same. I love you and I miss you. I hope you and Aziza are taking care of Aadil and Hawa very well. I'm sure they're much grown and probably Aziza is a young lady now,"

Nick read to me as I sat in the corner, taking in each and every word.

"I think by now you know the chances of me ever reaching home is as thin as a hair strand. Next to nothing, to be honest. I want you to stay strong for the children. The government is very torturous, in a way. They make me do things that will break my heart. They treat me like a dog. They strip me of my clothes and make me stand in a dark room for hours. They constantly harass me. They rape me. It is degrading, they try to steal my dignity."

Nick slowly looks up to see how I am adgusting to the news.

"On several occasions they made it a point to declare that my only purpose was to please their needs. They are revolting. To think they are married men. Even worse. When it is Salah time, they drag us into the court-yard behind our cells. Our ankles shackled to each other. The men pray in front of us, they take turns in calling the prayer. The women stand behind them, we are given clothing items to cover our heads. It is useless though. Most of the time they let us pray for a few minutes and then they drag us back to our cells, half way through the prayer."

"Should I carry on?" Nick asks politely as possible.

"Yes, please go on."

"They don't tell us the time. The only thing that helps us determine the prayer times is the sunset, twelve o'clock shadow and sunrise. Many a time they don't allow us to pray outside. We pray individually in our cells. Once a week, a lady will come with a trolley. Filled with many novels, comics and religious books. I always take a Qur'an. The unfortunate part is that some officials come around. They check our cells. They force us to do such terrible things like stomp on the Qur'an, relieve ourselves, etc...They tell me to give up Islam, that the religion is no good to my, they don't understand Islam is the only thing I have left,"

Nick pauses for a moment to take a breath and shift into a comfortable position. He begins to read again.

"I wasn't sure whether I should tell you this because It might give you the impression that I have gone mad...I have been detained for many years, but I still have my sanity. You see since I was jailed, I have this really special feeling whenever I read Salah. I know it sounds kind of weird but by Allah I feel the presence of Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w). Whenever the officials, mmm, harass me or torture me and stuff, I feel like there is someone they're saying that I should be strong and no matter how much these people injure me I don't feel pain. At all. It's like they try their level best to break me. But fail every time. They've burnt me in several places, usually would leave terrible scars but the next day I feel no pain in the burnt area. There are no burnt marks or anything."

"They broke my leg one, my banging it against the metal door while dragging me out to the interrogation room, much to their humour my leg went limp and was clearly twisted. You could see my bone. Believe me, it looked painful. But I felt nothing. Like my leg was paralysed from all feeling. The next day, my leg looked back to normal, the limp was gone. I dreamt of Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w). He came to tell me, I shall feel no pain from the American government, Allah has already prepared a place in paradise for me and my family. I woke up instantly, screaming and crying. I don't know why but I felt at peace. So tranquil with everything."

Nick took a moment, he was also caught of guard. "Aziza? Are you doing alright?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. I'm doing alright. Is there more?"

"Just a paragraph left, I'll have to go after that before your dad comes..."

As if on time, the door swung open, "Aziza...I'm home! I'm really tired I'll have to talk to you after prayers tomorrow morning!" Mr. Zeid called out as he locked the house door.

"Get out, go hide in the closet or something!" Aziza whispered knowing how well her dad doesn't agree with having guys over.

"Did you say something Zuzu?" her father said as he walked into the room, just in time for Nick to hide...

"No, do you want some tea?" Aziza said getting up. Her hands behind her back as she fidgeted to open the drawer to hind the letters. Not keen on showing her dad them yet.

"No, I'm pretty out today...Tomorrow morning alright?" he said as he de-flammed he's cigarette and walked out the room. "Don't forget to be up for Fajr prayers. It's at five thirty am." he blew he's daughter a kiss and disappeared.

Nick slowly groaned "a little help would be nice"

Aziza found him squished under a table concealed in the corner.

"Shh, I don't want to wake him up," Aziza said as she helped Nick up.

"Aziza? Where's my other sock?" her dad said as he walked back into the room.

Aziza pushed Nick back down under the table and gave him a small kick.

"Ummm, I don't really know. Check in Aadil's sock pile." Aziza said only to realize her father already left the room.

"Found it!" she heard him yell. "Oh, and why is your mothers letters on the table?" he asked as he popped he's head around the door frame...

"Missing her? Well I have some news to tell you. But it can wait till tomorrow. Right now we both need some rest." he gave her a kiss on her forehead and finally left the room for the night.

Nick got up by himself this time. Good night Aziza, I can't stay longer now that your dad is here." with that he climbed out of their window, waved Aziza goodnight and was off.

Aziza laid in bed that night, thinking of the letters, the torture and what her dad really wanted to tell her. puzzle minded it was a rough time trying to close her eyes. She stared into the darkness as memories of the past night flooded into her mind.

Faridah called her. Her mum, Faridah. She said something. There was chance. Faridah might come back home. Might be with her family again. Faridah was on a plane to Washington D.C. to meet the president...