MY MISSION

SOMEONE'S COMING

  Her confused eyes met my excited eyes.

 " Me? " she questioned, raising a brow. 

 " Yeah, you." I smiled.

 " Let me get this straight. Someone is gonna come for me at 3am in the morning. I mean visiting times are over by 10. The patron would kill anyone who come by that hour."

 I laughed. " Your patron may be big and fierce and strong and feared by the whole city but she's nothing as compared to the one who's coming. " 

The fear in her eyes reduced. Taking a deep breath, she again asked.

 " Who is he?" 

 " It's for me to know and you to find out." 

 " From where will he come?"

 " Far away. A place immeasurably far from here. He crossed big distances to meet you."

 She laughed a laugh of disbelieve. " Why, doesn't his home city got brothels. " 

 " I'm not sure of that, but he comes just for you. He loves you more than you can imagine."

 The confusion in her eyes returned. 

 " Aria, is this a baloney?" 

 " It's hundred percent true. "

 " He loves me? Does he knows who I am?"

 " He knows you more than you do. He loves you for what you are. He knows what you truly are from inside. "

She stared at me in disbelieve. Slowly she nodded. 

 " Okay, I better go before the patron takes her round. Call on me at that time. I want to meet him that someone."

 " Okay goodnight." I smiled.

 She bade me good night and I ran to my room, with high spirits. Time seems to slow down like a turtle when you wait for something. 

I was kidnapped by a group of people and was taken to a brothel. Nothing had troubled me more than the brothel with terrifying screams and cries echoing from all corners. The sound of cane hitting the flesh was heard everywhere. Girls were killed and abused. I knew the place was the worst of what mankind could be as Allah Almighty was forgotten by all. In a short time, I made friends with a young 15 year old girl Amna, a mother of a two years baby girl called Imama, courtesy to a merchant who stayed there one night. Amna was different from the other prostitutes. I knew where God was long forgotten there, he still was present in her heart. A small beam of hope. More like a dimly glowing finishing candle , glowing lightly in the dark. And it was my mission to give life to the candle. 

 After a thousand years, the clock struck 2:50. I rushed down to the first floor and gently knocked on the door. Amna seemed to be awake the whole time, so the door was opened at the first knock. Their stood Amna, with an air of confusion and excitement. Imama was in her arms, between consciousness and unconsciousness. 

 " Come let's go. " I said, grabbing her hand and practically flying past the corridor to the top floor. 

 " Why the roof?" She asked trying to keep up. The patron's snores capable of bringing the dead to live was echoing from every corner.

 " You'll see its better there." 

The chilly fresh morning air greeted us as we opened the old metal door, who protested as it opened by a loud squeak. I walked to the roof. The whole city was visible here. The mountains surrounding it. The shops, empty streets and the houses. 

" Okay, so when is he coming? "

 " In the nick of time."

 She nodded as she spread the rug and placed Imama on it. Crossing her arms in front of her, she began to pace backward and forward, humming her favorite lullaby she used to sing to Imama.

 " It's hard to believe someone actually comes for me everyday. I mean am I that precious for him." 

 " You are. Trust me."

 " Is he coming for the first time?"

 " He began to come here as long as you were born. He waits for you every morning and goes back. " 

 That surprised Amna, as it should. A girl like Amna, an innocent and good natured despite her surrounding, who was constantly being teased and used and abused was not used to it.

 " What do you mean? Wait everyday, each year. Why does he do that. For me?" She asked angrily, not knowing her voice loud enough for the inhumanly sharp ears of the patron. 

 " Because he loves you. More than you can imagine."

 She stared at me.

 " But he should have caught by the guards."

 I smiled. " He is too powerful for them. They can never compete them. "

 She seemed to calm down. Imama had woken up and was playing with the rocks on the floor. We sat beside her, beneath the big glistening moon, a thousand splendid stars smirking at us. The night was quiet as a moonbeam and serene as a calm sea. The slow air gently blew our hair.

 " I don't know but somehow, I will leave this place. Not for me but for Imama. So that she can live a happy, free and a peaceful life, away from this rubbish." 

 " You will succeed in your plan Insha Allah. " I encouraged her. She smiled. Imama played beside her. Once or twice she pulled her hair and we all laughed quietly. After a few moments I spoke,

 " He's here now." 

 Amna jumped about and turned all directions by turning her thin and long neck. After sometime, she said with a disappointing tone. 

 " There is no one over here. I thought he was gonna come. "

 " He's here."

 " But where?" 

 I smiled and answered." According to the Holy Prophet, our role model, the god Allah almighty says, ' Every morning before fajr, I come to the first sky, for those who wish for my forgiveness. I'm here for them. " 

 As I finished the verse, disbelieve filled her face. I stared at her stunned face. She looked me with disbelieve. A gust of air blew, her hair came in front of her face, hiding it like a veil. Then after a moment of staring, her eyes shifted to the sky, to the one waiting for her. Slowly her hands came out, and she held them together, a gesture one makes when one prays to someone. A gesture harlots make in front of the patron and the unforgiving cold customers. But this one, whom she asked forgiveness was the most forgiving and kind one ever. The weight on my heart vanished as she prayed with closed eyes, communicating with the creator of the world. My mission was at last completed.