See It Through Her Eyes *On Hold*

Chapter 8

This is dedicated to my close friend, Saad! I know him for over a year now and it's quite amazing  how weird and interesting he is :)x

The banner on the right is courtesy of a wonderful girl who made my cover as well @purplepuff

~OOO~

The keys rattled on a chain as Tahir, Nick and Aziza were casted into a cell. The air was nippy as a winter morning and the light was of no value. The small window in the corner of the cell allowed a cool breeze to liven the stone dead area every few minutes.

"At least our hands are no more tired up," Aziza said, trying her best to sound enthusiastic.

"And our legs," Nick added as he watched Tahir prostrate before Allah, beckoning him for guidance. It was the first time Nick had seen another man weep so much in prayer.

Nick's eyes fell upon Aziza. She to was prostrated before Allah, not worried of her appearance as she had a blue hijab neatly drapped and held together by a silver pin.

Nick having not been brought up in a strict on religion sort of family, was not sure exactly how to pray. Classified under the title of Christian yet he had never stepped on the grounds of a Church. Cozying himself on the hard marble floors near the window, he leaned against the walls and closed his eyes. Tears ran down the young man's face as he began to reflect upon his life, a short one.

Not only had Nick been a loner at school, he was also the forgotten middle child in a dysfunctional family who were half the time drunk or tripping on a drug overdose. "Medical prescription," they'd say to Nick as they injected some into their body. Nick didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know that heroine isn't taken on 'medical prescription' but never the less.

"Maybe Muslims are on the right path" he pondered as sleep began to overcome his exhausted body and heavy eyelids.

~OOO~

"Get up, runt!" a tall, big built, aggressive man yelled as he kicked Nick in the stomach. Nick winced in pain as the merciless man began to drag Nick out of the prison cell.

Within minutes Nick finally found himself in the presence of Aziza and Tahir. They both looked glum as they stood in a vertical line. Nick was pushed behind Tahir, once again wincing as the blood from his wounded knee dripped down the side of his leg. In front of Aziza was two other men and a young girl. It was fair to assume she was somewhere in her early twenties.

One by one, they each went in, escorted by the same man who called Nick a runt earlier. A grim look on his face at all times. After at least forty minutes of standing under the blazing sun Aziza was taken into a small military office. She was not welcomed by any of the soldiers, not that it shocked her.

"Hold out your hands" an officer with a stern voice said as she began to frisk search Aziza for weaponry. The lady had several frown lines on her forehead as she finished patting down Aziza's legs.

"All clear, give her a C15, than send her to Commander. He was expecting her." she said to a male soldier standing next to her. He must have been 6'5 and in his late twenties.

"And leave the rifle," she said as she began typing out something on her laptop.

"Ma'am, yes ma'am," he said, the sternness of his voice made Aziza shiver. Just a few hours ago, if someone was to tell her she was going to be in a prison block in the middle of no where, she would have laughed at them.

"C'mon little girl, it's time to get you cleared." he mumbled as he grabbed Aziza's wrist and dragged her along a concrete corridor. On either side, there were empty prison cells.

After what seemed like a decade of silence, Aziza finally croaked 'where are we going?'

"To get cleared."

"And that is?"

"Change of clothing, into a detainee suit."

"Can I wear my hijab?"

"Your what?"

"The scarf on my head."

"Oh that. No you cannot."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

He let out a heavy sigh.

"You have not answered me," Aziza said, her voice clear.

Ignoring her, the soldier stopped at a door. C15 was written in metallic characters. "Get in there, strip and only leave your underwear on. No head scarf." the soldier said as he opened the door for her.

Four walls, no windows and the only way out was her way in. "But what will I wear?" Aziza asked, not crazy about the idea of being in a room with a strange man outside and her not having any clothes on.

"The officer with your clothing is coming." he mumbled as he pushed her in.

~OOO~

Tahir, Nick and Aziza stood shoulder to shoulder. Their orange jumpsuits pressing against each other. Aziza's hair was tied back into a pony tail, her pleads to cover her hair were ignored. The room was dark, a shadow hid the face of the man in the office chair.

"Guys there is nothing to worry about, we will not hurt you!" he said, his voice lingered in Aziza's thoughts. Had her mum been through this as well? Did she say something that led her to being held against her will?

Tahir shuffled in his place as he caught a glimpse of the man.

"We are just trying to get our hands on some information before the trial."

"What trial?" Nick said absent-mindedly. He bit his tongue after coming to realization.

"Faridah's of course. Your friend's mother and pal's wife." he said as he walked around his desk.

"Gaining freedom is simple. All you have to do, is admit Faridah was engaged in terrorist activities." the strange man said, his hands supporting him as he leaned against his desk.

"We will not. My mother was not engaged in terrorist activities." Aziza said loudly.

"Fine, take your time. But until you admit it, you are captives," he grinned. "Put Tahir and Nick into separate cells. Block fourteen. When your are done with that, take the girl to the slaughter-house." he smirked.

"What? No leave Aziza! Take me!" Nick yelled.

"Leave both of them, I'm Faridah's husband. I should be taken to the slaughter-house." Tahir spoke calmly.

"But sir, she's a girl..." the officer instructed to carry out the ask argued.

"So what, her mum went there. So can she."

"How many lashes?" the officer asked.

"Thirty, on her back."