Sidratul Muntaha

Chapter 118

Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu

Surprise!!!!

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Haraira

Hareem bint Mussab was too tired. She could barely lift her head. Her eyes were hollow and pained as she watched the darkness looming around her. But within her, even now, a flame of hope kept her alive. She wanted to see. She wanted to witness the end of this story and the tyrant for both herself and Kulthoom. She wanted to see his defeat. And before then she didn't want to die. She wanted to live, at least till she could lay her eyes on her children. She prayed for Rabbe Zuljalalah to extent her life till that moment.

"Ya Allah, the Writer of fates, the One in whose hands lay our souls. Do not take away my soul till you are happy with me and I am happy with my life. Show me the end of this tyranny. Show me the sunrise of my life. Show me my little stars as they shine more than everyone. Show me my hope breathing once again. I want to live so give me life to witness Mansoor's downfall. O the Defeater of tyrants, defeat mine!"

Her heart was breaking but she still stood strong. Her life was ending but she wanted to live. Mansoor ibn Saleh had to pay for every wound he had inflicted, for every moment of agony she had spent, for every breath she took in the absence of her beloved. He had to pay. She would pray for it till it was accepted. Hareem closed her eyes, only to open it when she heard the jiggle of keys. She frowned. Had Mansoor returned? She hoped not. His face wasn't welcome to her sight. He wasn't welcome in her vicinity. Amongst all the punishments she had to endure, his presence was the worst of them all.

A woman entered the prison cell. She was a royal. Her clothes were made of finest silk and her jewelry looked to be made with absolute perfection. The clothes jingled when she moved. She shone even in the darkness of the prison, due to the meagre lights of the hallway. She had placed a kerchief over her nose to block the putrid smell of these prisons, hiding her face. But Hareem could still recognize the woman despite not seeing her for ages.

"Nashwa?" She breathed. She was half in hope, half in horror. She didn't want Nashwa to suffer.

"Long time, no see, dearest sister?" Nashwa commented sarcastically.

Nashwa bint Harith was Hareem's cousin sister. She was the closest in looks to Hareem. She was younger than her by seven years and was lively and kind. But the Nashwa standing before Hareem sounded sarcastic and rolled her eyes at Hareem like she was disgusted by the latter. Hareem wanted to cry. For years she had been imprisoned here and she had remained strong, yet the first glance of her dear one and her sarcasm had pierced Hareem right in the heart. They used to be close cousins, apart in age but similar in mindset. What happened then?

"Nashwa? Why are you here? You should get going before Mansoor sees you here." Hareem feared the worst. Nashwa started laughing at Hareem's words. Her laughter rang with melancholy and anger.

"Oh don't worry for me sister dear. No harm will befall me now." She replied cryptically. Hareem frowned weakly. What had happened to the sweet little sister she had seen two decades ago? Nashwa had just been married to a man she liked when Hareem had arrived in Haraira. They were happy and peaceful. What had changed in Nashwa's life?

"What are you saying? Hasten little one! Leave before someone sees you here." Hareem tried once more. Nashwa laughed again but tearfully. Soon her laughter stopped and tears gave way to anger as she stared at Hareem.

"No one can harm even a hair on my head Hareem bint Mussab!" She hissed angrily. "You see..." She smiled sarcastically. "I am the queen of Ghazdaan. I am his wife." She declared. Hareem felt her breath being stolen rather harshly by this declaration.