A walk on thorns

Chapter 67| Heartless Condemnation!

Sabrina's POV

Such is life. Rubina is gone.

The night stretched endlessly, consumed by an unshakable pain that surpassed my ability to cry. I sat beside her lifeless body, the silence deafening, the shock too enormous to process. But Anisha, she was a storm. She cried through the night, her grief raw and unrelenting, as if the world had stolen every last piece of her. It wasn’t “as if”, Rubina was her entire world, her only hope in a life that had been nothing but cruelty and hardship. And now, that world had crumbled.

Rubina, a beautiful, spirited, and kind-hearted soul, was gone. She was too young, too full of dreams and goodness for this harsh world. I believe Allah took her away for a reason, a reason beyond our comprehension. Perhaps it was her prayer for a better place, a plea to escape the unkindness that surrounded her. Her mother’s suffering had weighed heavily on her, fracturing their bond. Her father and grandmother treated her like an afterthought, and she grew up in the care of house helpers, deprived of the love, attention, and respect every child deserves. The world had failed her, and now it had lost her.

After Fajr prayer, I heard Baba moving downstairs. Desperation propelled me to intercept him. “Baba, have you informed the people at the mosque? When will the funeral be?” My voice trembled, a mix of urgency and anguish.

His response struck like a dagger. “I have nothing to do with your affairs anymore. Her life or death is your problem. I couldn’t sleep last night because of your endless bawling, so I need to rest now.”

How can this man be my father? How could he not care? The very air around me felt heavy with despair. Tears blurred my vision as I staggered to Baaba Larai’s room, handing her some cash for the white cloth and Zam Zam water needed for the bathing ritual. “I’ll get it early in the morning,” she assured me, her voice calm amidst the chaos. Umaima volunteered to inform the Liman.

I was barely holding myself together, a fragile thread pulled taut over an abyss of grief. In my desperation, I called Aunt Salmah, hoping for support. To my surprise, she already knew. Mama had informed them, and they were on their way.

Returning to the room, my heart sank at the sight of Anisha sprawled on the floor. At first, I thought she was asleep, but something about her position unsettled me. Panic surged as I rushed to her side. “Anisha!” I called, shaking her gently, but she didn’t respond. What a disaster. Her blood pressure had been unstable these past days, and I feared the worst. Grabbing some water, I sprinkled it on her face until she finally stirred.

Her body burned like fire, trembling uncontrollably. My hands shook as I measured her BP: 192/185. Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihi rajiun! The numbers were catastrophic, a reflection of the storm raging within her.

What could I say to ease her pain? Nothing. Words were useless in the face of such monumental grief. Yet, I knew I had to try. Before these toxic people arrived, before their venomous words compounded her guilt, I had to strip away the blame she carried.

Today was their day to torment us, but I refused to let them break her. Not Anisha. Not anymore.

"Look, Anisha, I need you to listen to me and come back to your senses," I began, my voice steady but filled with urgency. "This is a test, a brutal one, I know. You've lived your life bound by their rules, and yet, when it comes to doing what is right, they deny you. They came together and did this to you. It’s unbearable, and if I told you I understand exactly how you feel, I would be lying. No matter how much I try, I can't fathom the depth of your pain."

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "You didn’t deserve any of this. But, Anisha, I need you to trust in Allah. He knows what we don’t. He is watching over us. Rubina's time in this world was destined to end yesterday, no matter what Mama, Baba, Mukhtar, or Nadeera did. Her time was set, and she had to answer the call of her Creator."