STRUGGLE (Short Story)

Bright Day & Dark Night

(The girl above is Nada Armani)

The sun glowing bringing and accenting every color that was spread out in my room, and every other part of my house. From the polished blacks to the bright whites, even the middle man colors like the many shades of blue that you could find spaced out. The windows open and the spring air coming in crisp and fresh. Making the evening an even better one. It seemed as if the day could not have been any better, but that day would be the start of a new adventure. Basically the beginning of me Nada Armani, and my new life.

I was in my room at the time and I had just come home from school, and I was changing to begin on my homework. It was stacked almost as high as the ceiling itself, and by time I would have got done with it all, my hand would be screeching from the anguish and pain that would fill them. But hey it would be worth it when I succeed and get passed the troubling thing other known as homework. As I am still getting undressed I hear a knock upon the door. Normally I would have grabbed it considering I would hate to put my mother through the trouble of getting up and coming out of her office, for a knock on the door that I could have gotten myself.

But alas I was in a black sports bra with small hints of lace, and a pair of underwear that matched the bra perfectly. They hugged my curves to perfection and but it still looked modest since my mother believes that anything other than modest is a waste of time, and it only belongs upon the body of the ones not saved by God himself. I on the other hand did not care, nor should I considering that I have to wear a black and white Jilbab most of the time since most of the time I am stuck at school. And sadly that is our uniform. The one thing that will help me in life, and yet I hate it anyway.

When I got finished dressing into another Jilbab but the one I like to lounge around in I heard as my mother answered the door with a sweet and melodic tone. The type that sounded as if it flowed like sweet honey on a stick, and would melt anyone's heart. I could only imagine the bright smile that she greeted our guest with. It brought a smile to my face, as I wanted to be just like my mom and if possible even better. But I could only dream of it for now.

As I tuned out of the confrontation down stairs as it was rude not get in grown folks business. So I would keep to myself until the guest left. But yet that moment came as I heard yelling coming from the area they were speaking from. The high pitches of their voice hitting my ears and filling it with words I don't usually don't hear. "Are you a true Muslim?" "Do you believe in our holy Quran?" "Do you seek out refuge in its holy words?" And this confused me, everyone knew my family well enough around the neighborhood. This giving me my information that these people are not from around here.

My mother replied with innocence in her voice saying that she did, only for the people down there to ask her more questions. This time questions that would only prove the information and loyalty to the religion my mom actually knew. I listened to her answers and they were all true to the tee, not a word out of place. And not a single explanation spoken that could not be comprehended easily. Until she said one answer that did not make any sense because it was incorrect, and I got this feeling like because of that one wrong answer she would be in trouble and a face a slight punishment.

The feeling did not pass as the silence filled the air, and I could no longer hear a single word or breathe from anyone down stairs. As I was then worried I ran down the steps the cracking of the wood beneath me as I put my weight on each step. When I reached the bottom a chill ran up my back as I came in contact with the cold chilled floor. As I looked up from my spot I froze and noticed why my mother had stopped talking and was frozen where she stood. Two men stood at the door, big bushed beards that hung low from the cloth that was hiding parts of their face. Their eyes black as coal and filled with an ice cold glare.

But it was not the appearance of them that scared me; it was the fact that in front of them they held a black gun at her head. My mother's eyes were wide and glossy from the tears that so desperately wanted to escape. Fear lacing her eyes, the thought that this would be her last day on Earth no doughtily crossing her mind. She craned her neck slowly until her pale face faced me. Her chocolate eyes looking at me she parted her thin pink lips and spoke "Run", and I did as told.

I turned around and sprinted towards the clear back door behind the stair and down the hall. When I reached the door I pulled it open with so much force that it hit with a loud thud. I ran through, not before I heard the yell of one of the men "Get her!" All before the sound of the bullet going off, I screeched as I knew I would never get to see my mother again. My eyes began to gloss over as tears fell down on my face, thinking that now my parents are both gone. My dad died of having the rare case of Malaria, and now my mom just got a bullet put in her.

Even if the tears were beginning to take over I ran as fast as I could refusing to look back, knowing that there would be a man twice my size not too far behind me. His big feet slapping at the pavement ground. Hope filling me saying I might have a chance to get away, that I could actually out run him. Yet all that hope dies the moment he tackled me to the ground my head being the first thing to hit the ground. The pounding in my head immense.

The man turned me over and straddled me, giving me no room to move my neither arms nor legs. He looked me intensely in the eye and spoke with so much profound strength "Young one do you believe in God, are you a true Muslim?" I looked in his eyes; they were so dark they looked like a gateway to the deep depths of the abyss. His voice deep "I repeat are you a true Muslim?" I shook under his hold, and not because of a chill but out of fear. Because I don't know what to say, since I was an atheist. I believed in no God, no angels, demons, praying, or the so called blessing people speak of.

I did not want to say that to him, I did not want to lie as the feeling of him seeing through me was great. I turned my head not wanting to view his, looking away from his stare. He gripped my chin with a hard stern grip snapping my head back to where it was. He yelled in my face "Are You!" causing me to shut my eyes. Tears flowing down my rosy cheeks continuously. I stuttered an "N-no......I am an Atheist, I believe no God, I believe in nothing." A sob slipped from my lips as I continued to speak "So no I am not a true Muslim."

The man snatched off his wrap his beard flowing free, his features pinched tight. He puckered his pink lips, gathering enough spit before he spit on me. The saliva sliding down my face until it reached the bottom of my ear. He pulled the gun out of the back of his black pants "You don't deserve to live then." I shut my eyes as fast as my eyelids would allow me to. I awaited the pain that would shoot through me when the bullet was fired, but it never came I open my left eye followed by the right. I see the other man gripping the man atop of me. With a grunt in his voice he spoke "No Ahmed, if she does not believe in anything that means we can persuade her to come and see our ways." "But Saad-" Saad smirked my way "It will not be easy but everyone has their price, and everyone has their limit."Ahmed smiled "I see your point." and that was the last words spoken to me that day because he took the barrel of the gun and knocked it against my head. And at that moment I welcomed darkness with open arms.