Married To A Captain

Chapter 1

"Indeed, Allah is with the patient (2:153)."

Fatima wiped the sweat off her forehead as she hurried through the market, gripping the small bag of flour her aunt had sent her to buy. The sun was merciless, beating down on her, and the crowded streets made it hard to walk.

She made her way through the people, careful not to bump into anyone, her aunt’s warning echoing in her head: "If you break it, don’t bother coming back." Her hands shook slightly as she quickened her pace. She couldn’t afford another mistake.

The punishment for the last one still lingered on her skin, bruises hidden beneath her clothing. Zainabu, her aunt, never showed mercy.Just as she turned the corner near their house, her foot caught on a rock, sending her stumbling forward.

The bag of flour slipped from her hands, spilling across the dirt road. Fatima’s heart sank as she stared at the mess. She could already hear her aunt’s furious voice in her head.“No, no, no…” she whispered to herself, kneeling to scoop up whatever she could salvage. But it was too late.

The flour was ruined. Fatima stood up slowly, her body trembling with fear. She had no choice but to go back. Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked back to her aunt’s house, each step heavier than the last.

When she arrived, Zainabu was waiting for her, arms crossed, eyes blazing with fury."Where is the flour, Fatima?" Zainabu demanded, her voice cold.Fatima swallowed, her throat dry. "I... I dropped it, Aunty. I’m so sorry—"Before she could finish her sentence, Zainabu's hand struck her across the face. "Useless!" she screamed. "You can’t even do one simple thing without messing it up!"

Fatima staggered back from the force of the slap, but there was no time to recover. Zainabu grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the house."After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? Worthless girl!" she shouted, shoving Fatima to the ground. "You’ll learn your lesson today."

Fatima curled into a ball as Zainabu’s fists rained down on her. She didn’t scream or cry, she had learned long ago that it only made the beatings worse. She just took it, waiting for it to be over.

Eventually, Zainabu stopped, her chest heaving with anger. "Clean yourself up," she spat. "I’m going out. Don’t you dare leave this house." Fatima lay on the floor long after Zainabu had stormed out, her body aching from the blows. She stared at the ceiling, her vision blurred by unshed tears.

How had her life come to this? Her parents were gone, and she was trapped in this house, treated like a slave by the woman who was supposed to care for her.After a while, Fatima slowly got to her feet, wincing at the pain that shot through her side.

She made her way to the small bathroom, splashing water on her face, trying to wash away the blood and dirt. Her reflection in the mirror looked back at her, tired and defeated.

Just as she was about to leave the bathroom, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She froze, her heart skipping a beat.

Garbati, her aunt’s eldest son, stood in the doorway, a twisted smile on his face. Fatima’s blood ran cold. She had seen that look before, the hunger in his eyes that made her skin crawl. She had always avoided him, staying out of his way as much as possible.

But now, with her aunt gone and no one around, she realized she had nowhere to run."You’re looking real pretty today, Fatima," Garbati said, his voice low and menacing as he stepped closer.

Fatima’s pulse raced, and she backed away slowly, her mind frantically searching for an escape. "Please, leave me alone," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

But Garbati didn’t stop. He closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to grab her wrist.

Fatima jerked away, but he was faster, his grip tightening around her arm."You think you’re too good for me?" he sneered, pulling her closer. Fatima’s breath came in short, panicked gasps.