Hello guys! If anyone is reading to say. Thanks for stopping by! This story is a experiment from my side. I want to explore Islam in a different way. Let us see how this turns out and hope you'll enjoy the journey even though it is different. I am a newbie so sorry for any mistakes as English is my third language. Thanks again.
Love
Shona
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You may not always end up where you thought you were going, But you will always end up where you were meant to be.
Jessica taylor
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The rain is smashing at the window while the wind is knocking at the doors as if seeking permission to enter. Running a hand down Adams hair who is sitting stiffly beside me on his seat I look out the window completely drained. This is not what I wanted or expected. The car is on full speed and the terrorist is negotiating with someone through his phone. About what you may ask? Well, I don't know. I am not even trying to listen, I am too stunned to do that.
Funnily, he has my mobile with him. I thought he would break it or throw it away or just leave it at the white villa beside the ocean to root. Something warm and wet reach my cold cheeks. Salty tears, drained out of energy I don't even wipe it away. Instead I cry more, silently with a burning throat. Gulping down the pain stinging my throat I try to not catch unnecessary attention from Adam or the moron driving the car in front of me.
I accidentally look at the rearview mirror to find a pair of blue eyes burning right through my soul. Turning my gaze away quickly I try my best to stop the flashback of those dark eyes reappearing in my mind. Half an hour ago those eyes were starring right into my eyes but the major difference, his hand were on my neck willing to choke me to death.
Oh right, you probably want to know what happened after he stormed into my room and held me by my neck? I'll try to flashback you into that specific moment.
When my back suddenly collided to the beige wardrobe and I felt short of breath I thought that this was it. I am not coming out of this alive.
My eyes widened and became moist. "I warned you, no tricks." He said between gritted teeth.
He was furious, his eyes were filled with fire and I didn't think I would survive his rage this time. I had crossed my limit but before I died I wanted to know how he could possibly know. That didn't seem to be happening at that moment as his iron hand was still on my neck.
My moist eyes pleaded him to let go of me but it seemed like I was starring into a monsters dark eyes. No mercy. "How on earth did you contact them?" He yelled searching for an answer in my eyes. "Answer me!" He growled and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
How on earth would I answer him? I was literally being strangled! My vision started to blur and I realized that was it. I wasn't getting enough of oxygen in my system and let my body slowly transit to a funky feeling. Slowly my eyes closed and opened before finally closing out his alerted dark blue eyes. My hands dropped from his hand. "Awesome." He mumbled while the pressure from his iron grip from my neck eased.
My knees barely supported me from there and I started to fall down with my head first. That's when I felt his hand quickly grab my arm. He pushed me so I collided with the beige wardrobe again.
Realizing that he had left my neck my hands shoot up. Gasping for breath with my shaking body dropping while having my back along the wardrobe I sat down on the floor with my hands not leaving my neck. My head was heavy and so was my eyelids. My head was spinning as I heavily breathed for oxygen.
Shawn kneeled down in front of me. Ice cold eyes met mine and his whole posture was rigid. His black shirt looked bright compared to his eyes. Feeling disgusted I looked away while my breathing came out in pants. "Will you now enlighten me?" He asked annoyed.
A new set of fresh tears streamed down my cheeks. "I hate you." Shaking my head slowly I choked out still not knowing where the sudden confidence came from.
The room went quiet for a second which felt like an eternity. With my palms and the back of my hands I quickly wiped away my tears.
"That's not the answer to my question but don't worry the feeling is mutual." He spitted out with venom in his calm voice. "You know what I am thinking?" He pauses. "I should just let you root here. We'll see if you come out alive." My head snapped towards him and I was greeted with a smirk.
Emotionlessly boring my eyes into his I blurted out my mind. "As long as I am away from you I'll be alright. So thank you, that would be great." His sudden perplexed eyes made me give away a small smile.
However, that turned out to be the wrong move. His jaw tightened and too suddenly he grabbed me by my arm. My face gave away an scared expression and he pulled me up with him in a second which made me a bit dizzy.
He looked at me for a brief second leaving me perplexed. His pale face was filled with rage. Slowly his hand raised and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I saw his fist coming towards me and that was when I realized what was happening. Gasping I closed my eyes and put my hands as a shield in front of my face. "No!" I howled.
Hearing a loud crash I looked up terrified. His fist had collided with the beige wardrobe behind me. His hand was still in it to my left and the wardrobe had now a hole on it.
Confusion took over me as I tried to search for an answer on his emotionless face. "Next time it will be you." Warning me through his words and eyes he turned around.
One hand on my chest and one on my neck I closed my eyes. Giving away a quick prayer I looked at him. The terrorist started to walk away from the room but as soon as he was two steps away from the door he halted. My heartbeat was racing. What now? He walked backwards two steps standing beside the bed frame. His body turned to face the window. Is this the time to fancy the view of the ocean?
My eyes followed his vision. Crap. The window! My mobile was on the frame and his gaze was fixed on my mobile. He looked perplexed for a moment and took the mobile in his hand. Turning it of he tossed it in his pocket. "I want you down in one minute." He informed coldly and walked away without even sparing me a glance, hallelujah!
Without my permission tears started to pour down my cheeks and I sobbed hard. The whole situation is so frustrating, why can't he let me go or just finish me? Sighing I composed myself. This is not how I want my life to be or end. If Allah have put me in this situation then he also have an solution for it.
I'll break free from this somehow and I'll expose his network. Determined to ruin his plans I walked downstairs with my green jacket in my hand. Adam was already in his arms and I quickly put on the jacket. The terrorist opened the door and the cold breeze embraced us. I could actually hear a faint sound of police sirens but one glare from the terrorist made me gulp down my rebellious side and sit down in the car with tears in my eyes.
And that's where my flashback ends. We're on the run again and I have no idea where we're going. Not because it would make much difference, I can't seem to come out of this mess. I don't even understand why he is keeping me with him. He could easily kill me. I thought terrorist only motto is to kill, why am I still alive?
The terrorist clears his throat. "Adam have fallen asleep, he always does." He says referring to car rides.
Looking to my left I take hold of the sleeping beauties head and tilt it over to my side. Gently I make sure that he is resting on my side wishing that he doesn't get a sprain later. I look out again and make myself comfortable, why even bother about anything anymore? It is easier to just go with the flow.
"Are you ok?" I hear him ask now.
Automatically a grimace spreads on my face. What the heck is wrong with him? Why is he trying to chitchat with me? Have he lost it? This terrorist is really bipolar. One second he acts like the terrorist he is and the other second he acts like a friend of mine.
"Do you want me to make you mute forever?" He harshly asks now.
I told you, he is bipolar. He confirmed it himself. I can't care any less about his threats and stare out of the window. He is driving so fast that my mind can't even comprehend what my eyes catches.
"This is all your fault, we wouldn't need to be on the road again if you didn't make the stupid call." He enlightens me with utmost joy. Note the sarcasm.
"How did you come to know?" I ask monotonously.
Still looking out of the window. "Do you think this is a random childish game? This is more organized and planned than you can ever imagine. We have insiders." He informs me mockingly.
That makes sense. I called SOS and someone from there called the terrorist. Wow, great.
I won't give up this easily. If I'll die in the hands of a terrorist then I'll make sure to try to expose him before. I'll die for a purpose. This way, I might be able to be an insider for the right team. Beware Mr. Insider, you'll be exposed by an insider.
Even though I am glad that I am not dead I can't help but ask the one question that doesn't seem to leave me. "Why are you keeping me?" I ask with a dry throat.
Dead silence for two whole minutes. "I have a agenda, you'll know about it soon enough." He tells me and I feel disgusted.
I swear I am going insane. "This is my life. I don't want to act upon your tunes. I am sick of this game you're playing. Sick of being alive at your mercy. I don't even understand why I am kept alive." I rant out more for me than him.
A silence engulfs us, a silence giving hint to a storm on its way.
He drives into another sparse area. There's a lot of green around and the villas are located far apart from each. This is going to be awesome. Not. I am actually scared of small towns. They seem so small and deserted. A perfect place for ghosts. I am starting to sweat due to my stupid thoughts. Ok, my mind is just wandering now and I need to stop.
He parks outside a really huge and elegant gray mansion. Yes, he parked outside a mansion. How can he afford all of these? It doesn't make sense! How much can a terrorist earn?
My door opens by the terrorist which snaps me out of my thoughts. I hold Adams head while walking out and the terrorist takes over. He carries Adam and we walk towards the house. Gosh, I need a shower. I must smell everything else than clean. My hair is starting to grease.
Wait. What? The terrorist just rang the bell. I thought this was his mansion. He should have a key? Why is he ringing the bell? The door opens in a jiffy and a hug friendly woman is seen. She have the brightest smile on her face and is beaming with joy. The woman could be the terrorist mother by age. However, she doesn't look like him so I guess no. She have sharp green eyes with a slightly round shaped face. She is wearing a headscarf and is quite short.
"Assalammalaykum aunt Heba." The terrorist greets the lady.
"Wallaykumassalam Shawn! It is so good to see you. How have you been? Come in." she replies all cherry.
This is so embarrassing. I walk in after them and don't know how to act. Stiffly I stand beside them while they chitchat as if I am not even existing. The hall is huge! Elegant with white and grey details.
"And who have we here?" My eyes widens as I notice that the aunt is taking interest in me. "I know you're Sana, I am sorry I can't pretend to not have seen you on the television. One brave girl you are, I must compliment you." she takes my hand and squeezes it slightly.
I force out a smile. Well, I don't feel brave. My heart skips a beat and my eyes automatically search for the terrorist who's eyes are already fixed on me.
Strangely he can read me. "She needs to freshen up and I'll lay down Adam, I hope the guest room is available." Shawn informs Heba.
Heba smiles and nods understandingly. "Exactly as you left it." She smiles and the terrorist starts to walk up the stairs.
I follow him with a pounding heart. My cheeks heated up. "I am not staying in the same room as you." I hiss while we walk up for the elegant marble stairs.
"As you wish." He says calmly.
I furrow my eyebrows. "Where can I stay then?" I ask incredulously.
He chuckles. "In the bathroom." I raise an eyebrow.
Is he trying to act funny? Stupid. Moron. We walk in to a elegant and huge guest room. There's a kingsize bed with black frame and silver bedspread with silver cushions. Next to the window there's a black elegant chaise with diamond studs matching the beds frame. The color of the room is silver grey. A beautiful steel chandelier is hanging above the bed which is reflecting on a silver framed mirror on the wall.
The terrorist puts Adam gently in the middle of the bed. He covers him with a grey blanket which Adam quickly grabs in his sleep. The terrorist turns with a mischievous smirk. "There's the washroom." He points to a door beside a television across the room located above a fireplace.
I glare at him. "Well, I will use it to freshen up but shotgun. The bed is mine and the chaise is yours." I smile at him satisfied.
He raises his eyebrow and replies with confusion evident in his stammer. "As you wish."
Wait, did I just shotgun for a bed? That means I am still staying in the same room as him. Crap. I sigh and sit down beside Adam. My brain doesn't seem to function at all. Looking at Adam for a distraction I can't help but smile. He seem so peaceful in his sleep. I wish I could be that peaceful. Right now, all I feel is devastation. I might never come out of this mess even though I promise myself to try. I still don't understand why I am still alive. What is his stupid agenda?
The terrorist walks back into the room.
I hadn't even noticed that he left. He has a pile of clothes in his hands which he tosses on the bed. "This clothes belongs to Maryam and Sara. See if they fit you." I look at the clothes. They seem decent and actually so homely. The fabric seem to be cotton, oh they're going to be comfy.
"Who is Sara and Maryam?" I ask the terrorist who's part time job seem to be to analyze my moves.
"They're aunt Hebas and uncle Osmans daughters." He enlightens me.
"Tell me about the people in this household. How do you know them?" I ask him and he sits down on the chaise.
"Uncle Osman is a police officer. He works with us." I blink ten times in a second, is he serious? "They have two daughters, Maryam and Sara. Maryam's 20 and Sara is 19. They have two older brothers Ahmed and Yousef. They're 24 and 26 respective. You have met Yousef already. The guy in the glasses at the madrasa." I nod at the realization, Yousef wanted me dead. "Yousef is married. His wife's name is Sahara and she is a convert."
"Oh, did she became a Muslim after meeting Yousef?" I ask, it actually sounds romantic.
He shakes his head. "That's not what I meant with convert."
I frown. "Then?"
He messages his temples as if I asked a tricky question. "It is a long story, but she is now working with us." My eyes widens and jaw drops.
"She turned to a terrorist?" I ask him not believing my ears.
He furrows his eyebrows. "We're not terrorists." What?
I blink my eyes to comprehend what he just stated. "Really? What do you call yourself after terrorizing and killing innocent people?" I ask him with a frown.
His jaw tightens and his eyes turn a shade darker which reminds me of the earlier event. Feeling intimidated I try not to move or breath. That might reduce the chances of enraging him more? In a second he has stormed out of the room. That was, interesting. Terrorist who doesn't want to be called terrorist.
The one question that lingers in my mind now is why Sahara chose to become a part of terrorism. It doesn't go down with me. Without further wasting my time on unnecessary thoughts I walk in to the bathroom for a needed quick shower. Just because I am not at home I can't room around feeling dirty.
After the shower I sit beside the window on the chaise. This is weird, I have been gone from home for two days and I haven't spoken to my family. I don't even know what I should be doing. It doesn't seem to be worth it to throw tantrums. A knock on the door surprises me. I stare at it not knowing if I should respond. The door opens slowly and I feel panicky.
I stand up and a beautiful girl in hijab comes to view. Her eyes glimmer in the same green shade as Hebas. She smiles. "Hey. I am Maryam." she enlightens me.
I force out a smile. "I am Sana." She nods.
"We're making dinner, we thought of asking you if you wanted to join us as you might be bored?" She inquires.
I nod without thinking through. "Yeah, sure. I'll join you." I tell her and we walk down together in an awkward silence.
In the black teamed kitchen aunt Heba, and I assume, Sara and Sahara is cooking in full force. They're cooking rice, potatoes, meat, chicken, vegetables and even baking bread.
The ladies halt in their movement when spotting me. This is awkward. I feel like an alien.
Heba more or less welcomes me again. "Hey Sana, glad that you came down. This is Sara and Sahara. I guess you have already met Maryam." I nod and say hello to the girls.
They greet me back and I sit down on a chair watching them resume work. "Can I help with something?" I ask nervously.
"You can cut the salad if you want." Heba tells me with a smile and I nod. "Sara, help her out." A young girl nods.
She doesn't have Hebas eyes, instead she owns a pair of brown eyes. All of the girls seem really sweet to be honest.
I am handed a knife and a cutting board. Starting with the cucumber I cut through them. "What do you guys do?" I hear myself ask.
What I am asking is what they do beside adding fuel to the terrorists.
Sara answers. "Well, we don't do so much right now." So much for breaking the ice.
"I have studied law actually." Sahara says with a glimmer in her eyes.
Law? What is she doing stuck here? "Wow, that's awesome!" I smile cutting a tomato in two. "Why don't you work as a lawyer then?" I ask her genuinely curious.
"Who do you think they prefer, a lawyer with hijab or no hijab?" She asks with a smile which seem to be a mask to hide the hurt.
I nod understandingly. "You Sara? What have you studied?"
"Both me and Maryam have finished science." I nod with a smile but inside I am totally surprised.
These young girls are smart, then why are they acting all criminal minded?
"You must be thinking why we're involved?" Maryam analyzes me while rolling a piece of dough to a flat bread.
I nod as a reply. "I was fed up of life. No job offer and no chance to grow as a human. My parents were disappointed with me and was pressuring me to get married. My goals were different from theirs. I couldn't see the light anymore. Felt like a loser. Filled with hate I roamed around the city aimlessly one day. I was crying on a bridge. I met Yousef by chance that day. He saw me crying and thought I would kill myself. Which I never would. He said he could give me a job and it involved revenging everyone who had made my life miserable. That we would help our ummah become accepted and stronger." Sahara briefly share and I stare at her shell shocked with a shudder running down my spine.
It doesn't even make sense. "You can't blame a nation for not getting a job." I blurt out.
The four of them look at each other. "You're just judging without walking my miles. You don't even wear an hijab and call yourself a muslim." Sahara goes in to defensive mode and rolls flat breads with more force.
I stare at her in disbelief. "You think I need to walk your miles to understand that this is wrong?" I ask her while trying to not scowl at her.
She sighs. "You won't understand. The hijab means so much to me, it is a part of my identity. Without it I feel naked, exposed and vulnerable." To her misconception I do understand, even if I don't wear a hijab I know its importance to women who wears it.
I fumble with my next choice of words to not offend them. "I know." Before I even start Heba cuts me short.
"Please Sana, you won't understand. There's so much more to it. Many woman struggles due to their belief. We want to end their struggles." She tells me with determination evident in her green eyes.
I shake my head disapproving while blinking my eyes rapidly in horror. "It's still wrong. I am being called a bad muslim based on the fact that I am not wearing a hijab. Fine, I agree. However, can that be compared to terrorism? How can you be a good one if you don't even fear your lord? You're supporting terrorism! Innocent people are being killed. It's haram, forbidden, to kill an innocent. How on earth will killing innocent people help you guys to achieve more jobs? You're just spreading hate against your own religion." I try to enlighten them and knock some sense. "The religion that preaches peace and love is receiving hate." The words of my last sentence leave my mouth ever so gently as if the words might actually break me.
"But." Sara starts defensively.
I cut her off. "No buts, I am not done. If you're not getting a job and if you're struggling, remember who's above us all. Allah can test you whenever he likes. Not a leaf turns without his knowledge and you think the state you're in is someone else's fault? Maybe it is Allah who is testing you. Maybe he is making you go through hardship so you can clean your sins by repentance. Maybe just maybe you're the one lacking faith. Maybe you're struggling due to his will as to see if you turn around to get closer to him. Instead of accepting the hardship or trying to overcome it in a decent way, you guys chose the easy route? You blame others. You terrorize innocent people. I am sorry but for me that seem like you have lost your faith." I lecture without thinking.
I wait for a comeback but the woman just stares at me. The air suddenly feels tight and starts to suffocate me. On cue Shawn walks in to the kitchen. I look down on a carrot and start to chop it with the deadly silence around, which I pray that he doesn't catch.
"What have she done now?" He asks with a tired voice.
I can't help to frown. What does he mean with that?
"You clearly picked the wrong girl." Sahara snorts. "It is true that she has a fighting spirit but it won't work in your favor." She adds and I stare at her in confusion.
What's going on?
Sahara continues. "You're wasting your energy on the wrong person. She will never be one of us." She turns around and start to fry the flat breads.
Something with her choice of words doesn't go down well with me. One of us? What does that mean. The words lingers on my mind and I chop the carrot with a grimace. Wait. Omg. Can that be his agenda? Is that why I am still alive? Sahara was recruited. There must be many more like Sahara.
But what did he see in me? I don't go around hating on people. Ok, yes I do hate on people sometimes but not without a valid reason and I definitely don't hate so strong to act upon my hate. For example I don't go around terrorize people or kill them. Astagfurallah. I think hate is a strong word, I might say I hate people but the real deal is that I simple dislike them.
Hebas voice brings me back to reality. "She have strong believes. To be honest, her believes are not wrong." Heba smiles proudly and the terrorist glares at me. "She actually just made me realize that my faith might have been jeopardized." She looks defeated.
Okey, why is Shawn glaring at me? I haven't even done anything. His gaze is making my skin crawl.
"Yeah, I actually feel that maybe we have been brainwashed beyond our understanding. Maybe we have been fed with wrong till the extent that it seem right. Telling a lie enough times can make it look true." Maryam shares her thoughts with a distant look.
I hope I am not in more trouble. "When's dinner ready?" Shawn asks ignoring the lady's deep reflections.
The girls laugh. "In half an hour." Aunt Heba enlightens him.
He nods. "Great, can I take Sana with me? I need to talk to her before Adam wakes up." He says with tense jaw.
I am in trouble. Not to sound like a psychopath but I wish I could stab him with the knife. Astagfurallah. Heba nods and I reluctantly wash my hands to follow him upstairs.