A tale of love, loss, and new beginnings.
Hareem wants to start over, Momin is stuck in the past. Can a newly wedded couple learn to love and accept one another while also dealing with an uncertain future and a haunting past?
Trigger warning: ptsd...
please let me know if you want to skip the chapter and want a safe summary instead, there's no shame in admitting your mental health struggles
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Chapter Nineteen
The first time was an accident.
She had been in the upstairs bathroom when she lost consciousness because of the blood loss. Her mother had noted that she had been missing for over an hour, came to check on her and found red seeping from under the door. She had yelled for Hareem's father, who broke down the door instead of searching for the spare keys.
They were clueless to what had driven Hareem to take such an extreme step. For the sake of not causing alarm in their small town, which would spread the news of her condition like wildfire, they drove to the hospital in the neighboring town.
The doctors were able to resuscitate her and had her discharged in the dark of the night, so the family could take her home without anyone in their town finding out - especially the Mehmoods. Ten year old Ahmed had been silenced into secrecy with the instruction that if anyone found out what Hareem had done, he would never be able to live a blemish free life. He would be pagal ka bhai.
Her parents naturally had countless questions for her, which all boiled down to the same conclusion, that she was over-sensitive and letting her desires take over. By harming herself, she was directly disobeying Allah.
Her body was a trust given to her by the Almighty, she should care for it or she would be sinning. If she wasn't careful, she would make the same mistake she had already made once, and perhaps the next time would be her last - which would push her into an eternity of burning in hell, doing the same action over and over which had got her in there in the first place.
Hareem didn't want to go to hell, but neither did she know how to block out the whispers of the accursed Shaitan. She was young, wounded and constantly recalling the excruciating moments which had led her to where she was, and the only help offered to her were words of advice to cheer up, pray and to not confess to anyone about what had happened.
"This is a very small town, what will people say?" Her mother had advised, caressing her face as she lay wounded in her bed. "You are our daughter, but you are also the promised daughter-in-law of Ayesha and Faisal bhai. You hold their reputation on your shoulders too."
"Mama, it hurts," Hareem had whispered, tears streaming down her face. "How can I hold it in when I relive it everyday? How can I hide it when everything triggers the memories?"
"Sshh, my child. Don't be so loud or your father will hear you cry. He told you already to stop being depressed."
"Mama, the things Zawiy-"
"Hareem!" Her mother had exclaimed, silencing her. "Don't say it. I cannot hear what happened, because I fear I will never be able to recover from it." She covered Hareem's mouth. "Our reputation may never recover from it. Promise me you won't tell anyone what happened."
