T w e n t y S e v e n
This one is for malsa13112
:)
Difficult roads always lead to beautiful destinations.
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Mashal
They attacked when everyone was sleeping and could do nothing to defend themselves.
The terrorist who had just greeted me, stood right in front of me with a wide cocky grin on his face.
I glanced behind him with my breathing loud in my ears.
All of the Alnihayya men were on their knees with terrorists pointing their heavy klashinkovs on their heads. Just one wrong step and they would pull the trigger, killing them all in one go.
I could see a helpless Ibrahim with a terrorist holding his hands behind him to prevent him from doing anything.
The women had also been clustered at a side, some of them sobbing. They were being guarded by a bunch of terrorist women.
They had reached another level of disgusting by involving their women in this bloodshed.
One of those ISIS women turned around briefly to face me and I shook my head in disbelief as soon as I recognised her.
It was that girl Shafin.
As soon as our eyes met, her mouth opened in shock before she quickly looked away.
That was enough.
She had already gone through so much and now they made her a part of this idiocity, they call jihad.
Anger filled every atom of my body as I rose to my feet to face the coward in front of me. I wasn't scared anymore, I was burning in rage and fury.
Normally in such a situation I would've started crying, running or hiding behind Zeyara.
But there was no Zeyara.
Anger had become my strength.
I tossed my head up and glared at him. I wanted to wipe that grin off his face. I wanted to avenge Zeyara.
I was well aware that my niqab was not in its correct position because of sleeping. A bit of my mouth was uncovered. It was all an advantage really.
Sensing my anger, the terrorist stepped closer to me, chuckling. "Don't you try doing anything silly sweethe-"
Before he could call me 'sweetheart' from his filthy tongue, I spit at him.
Right at his face.
He stopped there in his tracts, mouth wide open and a hand moving to his face where my saliva had landed.
Behind him, everyone chuckled at my bold attempt. Even his fellow terrorists tried to suppress their laughter but couldn't.
"Stop laughing!" He screamed an order, while trying to wipe it off his face, but no one obeyed.
"I said Stop. Laughing!" He shouted once again, this time his voice was louder and full of anger.
Everyone immediately became silent, sensing the threat in his words. His eyes diverted back to me as soon as everyone had gone silent.
"How dare you?! Bitch." He sweared, loading his sniper and pointing it at my face.
"Mashal run!" Ibrahim ordered me in his panic striken tone and as a result received a kick in his gut from one of he terrorist holding him.
I felt a wave of terror inside me.
My weak side told me to run but at he same time, my strong side, which had developed quite recently after losing Zeyara, told me to stay and fight.
If I ran, how far could I go? They would catch me easily. If I stayed, it still won't make a difference. Pain, rape and death. That would be the end in both situations.
But at least, If I stayed, I would be contended that I fought.
It was a split second decision.
I decided to disobey Ibrahim.
Slowly, without taking my eyes off the terrorist, I bent down and picked up the first thing that came in my hand, a rock.
It was like a toy in front of his sniper but I knew how much of a sin it was to run away from the battlefield.
I had already sinned enough by being ungrateful.
This way at least, I could show Allah that I was afraid of no one except Him.
He and the other terrorists watched me in amusement as they chuckled. "This is your weapon of choice?" He laughed, throwing his head back. "A rock?"
I didn't reply to the insult. Instead, I tightened my hold on the rock. "Let us go." I said, one last attempt at reasoning with that man.
"Sadly, I cannot do that." He shook his head laughing.
Something broke in me. Everything that had happened in the last few days, the gun shots, the screams, the anger, the hatred broke the barriers and I lunged at him, aiming the rock at his head.
His eyes widened in astonishment before he ducked but it was too late. The rock had already hit his head, making him tremble sideways with blood oozing out of his head.
"Iman is my weapon of choice." I said before I used my leg to kick his knee.
I had seen Zeyara teach that technique in the practice hall. He told the new fighters, 'you kick the knee if you want your opponent to fall.'
Rightfully, his leg buckled beneath him, sending him to his knees and the sniper fell out of his grasp.
A fierce stab of victory shot through me but I had little time to revel in it. He had underestimated me, thinking that I was just a harmless little girl and I guess that was one of the reasons I had been able to do that. I wasn't going to waste this opportunity like an idiot.
I quickly grabbed the heavy gun that had fallen out of his hands. Even though it was way too difficult for me to even hold that gun in the right position, let alone fire it. I pointed it at the terrorist threateningly.
The others stared at me, shocked and incredulous. No one had expected that, not even me myself.
I had no idea where that strength had come from but I knew it was all possible beause of Allah.
Because the terrorists had started looking at me, they had lost their concentration and the Alnihayya men took it as a golden chance.
Ibrahim was the first one. He smacked his elbow into the man holding him. He was left startled while Ibrahim grabbed the klashinkov from him quickly turning the tables.
That was it. We had started winning.
The men, trained by Zeyara and fueled by a new found strength beat the daylights out of them.
The terrorist who had fallen because of me, tried getting up again but I raised the sniper above my head and snarled, "This is for Zeyara!" And brought it down across his brow.
The heavy metal base of the weapon stroke his head and he whipped to the side with the blow.
Blood flowed freely from the cut that had formed. This time I knew he wouldn't get up so easily.
In just a matter of seconds, the power had shifted to Alnihayya.
Now the terrorists were on the knees and we had the upper hand.
I was just about to smile, thinking that we had won but suddenly the wall of hope came tumbling down as my eyes moved to the women.
"Give me your blood or I'll blow us all up!" Shafin screamed, addressing me. She had taken off her jacket to reveal that she had bombs all over her body.
They had turned her into a suicide bomber.
Everyone froze at her words. The men stopped fighting and silence returned to the air, followed by the laughter of the terrorists who knew that they had won now.
"Shafin don't!" I hollored, "Think of your baby."
I could see that her baby bump had gone. She was no longer pregnant. She must've already given birth.
How could she do this as a mother?
Her face sobered at my word for a second, eyes going mild but then that rage came back, burning even more than before. "My baby died already! He was so weak. We couldn't even go to a hospital because they call us terrorists. You! It's all because of you!" She wailed, voice full of emotions and laced with pain and anger. "Give me your blood and you get to live. Otherwise-"
She pointed at the red button wired to her arm, indicating that she would press it and kill all of us, including herself.
I was too disturbed to say anything. I didn't know whether to feel sympathy towards her, hatred or anger.
I had only been away from my husband for three days and it killed me every second. She had not only lost her husband, but also her child.
Her pain was immense.
"Mashal No!" Ibrahim warned, static at his place, blocking two terrorist in his arms.
"How do I give you the blood?" I asked, my voice shaky and confused.
I had completely ignored Ibrahim for the second time that day. I could feel he wanted to run up to me to stop me but he was busy handling two terrorists. He couldn't risk moving and letting them free.
Shafin glanced at one of the other ISIS women, signalling her with her eyes. She nodded at her knowingly and walked up to me slowly. Everyone was rooted to their places as she came closer to me with every step. It took her a good amount of time because of the distance between us. I was under that tree while they were near the place we put up fire.
When she was just a step away from me, I saw a tiny syringe in her hand which she moved towards me.
"Do it!" Shafin screamed from behind us impatiently.
"No Mashal don't!" Ibrahim yelled, rushing towards me, forgetting that he had just let the terrorists go.
They took the opportunity, kicking him from behind. He fell to the floor helplessly and they lunged onto him, kicking and punching.
"Do it!" Shafin screamed once again in that commotion.
I grabbed the syringe from the woman's hand and pierced it into my arm, without feeling any pain at all.
I had poor Shafin and her baby in my mind, I had Zeyara's pain in my mind. I had in mind all those people who had died because of me.
But most of all, I had Ibrahim's words in my mind. 'Because of you.'
All because of me. Because of my stupid blood.
With wet eyes and blurred thinking, I pulled the plunger of the syringe and watched as it filled with rich red blood.
As soon as I took it out of my vein, the women hurriedly pulled it out of my grasp. She gave me a teasing smile before running off towards Shafin.
Ibrahim was still trying to fight off the two men who clearly overpowered him.
It was all happening so quickly, leaving me no time or choice to figure out what was happening.
Ibrahim was finally able to free himself from them. He ran up to me but it was too late.
The syringe had reached Shafin's hand and she shouted out loud for all the terrorists to hear. "Blast!"
What?
Ibrahim kept running towards me, my senses fogged up, still thinking what was happening. "Mashal!" He screamed my name and jumped onto me as I stared at him wide eyed.
Just then, in the blink of an eye, all the terrorists present there, pressed a button on their arm, exploding themselves and everything around them.
A terrible sensation filled the air . The fearful blow of the explosions followed by a cloud of white smoke and fire. Ibrahim had pushed me under him. He lay on top of me, shielding me from the effect.
Then it finally made sense. All of the terrorists had been wearing the same suicide bomber jacket as Shafin. As soon as Shafin got my DNA sample, she ordered them all to blow themselves up.
In that ear deafening noise and smoke,she had fled away with the password.
Every man and woman lay on the ground, splayed like lifeless dolls on the burnt grass. I glanced down at my hands in urgency I was completely fine. Me and Ibrahim were at a safe distance away from them.
"Ibrahim!" I screamed out his name, realising the intensity of the situation. My heart was racing, brain expoding and eyes fogged up.
"M-Mashal." His feeble voice replied as if he was hurt and couldn't speak.
I pushed his heavy body off me and coughed in that smoke before my eyes darted to his back.
We were not at such a safe distance after all. He had been covering me, shielding me from the damage and had earned all the wounds for himself. His back was just flesh and bone, no more skin. His shirt was burnt and so was his entire back.
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Sorry if there were errors! I didn't get time to edit.
-Muskaan.