Black hearts meet Red

Chapter 6

Amal

Pain and emptiness.

What was pain, I had truly forgotten as by the passing time I had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of me now.Emptiness clouded me as I strived to hang on to surviving a battle I didn't know of.A journey I was forced to start.

Where did I make the mistake?What had I done wrong? Where had I crossed the path with the devil?

I was enduring the pain that many other females were also facing.Domestic abuse.But I couldn't point my finger if I was a victim of it because Jalal had a personal conflict with me.He loathed me for my beauty.
What was beautiful in me, I didn't know.He wanted to break me.He used to say that he hates me because my beauty ruins him.It pains him.Yet I was still unaware of the grudge behind his words.I pride my beauty, his words that feel like boulders crashing on me.His anger sparked with such intensity that my bones felt the fear drip.His blows and slaps were so hard that I fear someday I'll be dead.

So many women all around the world get bruised and beaten by their husbands, and it always pains me to think about the helpless ones that don't have a saviour.Yet they heal up and stand again to work, they don't compete back.Just like me.

My fear and scared self is more than my will to stand up for myself.I cannot bring myself to stop Jalal when he hits me.Or when he whispers all harsh words of the world, when he spits all hate to me.Or when he slaps my face saying he'll destroy all of me.

Aunty Shahana had moulded me in between rose petals.Bringing me up, she had used the sweetest of potions and the magic of all good deeds.Since the moment I recognized the world she had taught me everything a wise lady should know.Tender touches and soft spoken qualities moulded within me, made me more weaker.I was weak.Not only for a dominant and intimidating man like Jalal but also for my inner self.I was Jalal's trophy that he had won only to break piece by piece till nothing more was left.Till the golden trophy was ugly enough that it was the dust of feet.

ALLAH tests the most lovable soldiers.

Aunty Shahana's words always make me hold onto life.ALLAH's love and His Ibadah was all I did.Asking for forgiveness and peace of heart and mind.Contentment of soul.

Wiping the moisture from under my eyelids, I folded my arms against my chest, again.The warmth of the pashmina shawl wrapping me up, hiding my cold self.My grey orbs roamed around, focusing solely on the scene before me.

Green lush fields of grass surrounded all around the vast mansion.The cold wind making the grass dance along the soft un-hearable tunes.The last rays of the once bright sun now fading behind the large mountains of Abottabad.Hiding away.The hues of orange and pale pink covering against the vast sky welcoming the coming dark night.

The white chiffon curtains lined in the large balcony danced once again as a gush of wind crashed with them.Crashing me too.My dark blue dupatta slid off my head pooling on the shoulders, my fingers hurriedly setting the fabric on my head as Azaan of Maghrib rang from all around making me inhale a soft breath.

My eyes closing as my mind traced over all the words in answer of Azaan.Minutes passed and I silently said my dua.Making my way inside the bedroom, I spread the prayer mat before praying.

Just as I completed my Namaz and folded the prayer mat, the door burst open.Turning around abruptly I came to face a crying Gulshan.She walked inside with a shaky gait.Worried I placed the prayer mat on the bed, my frail hand on her shoulder as I raise my eyebrows,