CAPTIVE

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER7

AUTHOR'SNOTE: this chapter is dedicated to @sadyfah for being the first to comment and@zayfah for being the first to vote.

Thankyou! I love you guys so much.

UnknownPOV (I'm not going to mention the person's name your imaginations should guesswho it is)

Isit and stare out the window. I can't sleep. I've tried for hours but I just can't.I feel like a big coward. I should have done something. I should have helpedher. But I walked away. I turned my back on her. I can only wonder what she isgoing through right now. Being forced to marry someone you don't know. Beingforced to marry an older man. Someone old enough to be your father. This is sofrustrating. I should have helped her. I should have fought for her. Life is sonot fair. She has been uprooted from school to get married. Her life ispractically over.

Iremember the look on her face. She looked so terrified. I saw it in her eyes;she wanted me to fight for her. But I didn't. I can never forgive myself forthat. I stare out the window. The night looks so peaceful. I don't even know whattime it is.

Thewedding is tonight. I need to make a plan. I made a mistake once. I can't makethe mistake again. I have to save her. I try to muster up a plan. But the callto prayer breaks me out of my thought.

I quicklyget up and perform ablution and head to the masjid.

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Iwalk back home slowly. Still trying to think of a plan.

Iopen the door and come eye to eye with Bappa, my father. He looks worried. Helooks scared.

"Bappawhat is wrong?"

"Itis about Haniyya. Haniyyya Bilal." My stomach drops. No! This can't behappening. No!

"Whatabout her?" I know its bad news.

"Shedied last night. She killed herself. Drug overdose" he said it in a whisper. Itwas almost impossible to hear him"

Ifeel the tears fall down my cheeks. I don't cry easily. Even when Ammi passedaway I didn't cry, Allah yerhama. But this, the death, the death of HaniyyaBilal brings me to tears. I feel like my heart is torn into different pieces.If this is what it feels like to lose someone you love, then I never want to bein love again.

I walkto my room and lock the door. I feel like looking the door is a way of shuttingthe whole world out. I feel like it will give me little assurance that MyHaniyya is still alive. I fell like it will turn this into some twisted dream.   

Iclose my eyes and let guilt overcome me. For all I know, it is my fault she isdead. It is my fault she committed suicide. I had the opportunity to save her.But I didn't.

I amnothing but a coward.

Iremember the first time I saw Haniyya. It was at a food expo organised by oneof my friends. She was standing with a group of girls. She was laughing atsomething. I stood staring at her. Right then I knew I wanted to spend the restof my life with her. But I messed up and now she is dead.

Islowly fade to sleep. Hearing the laughter I fell in love with.

Thelaughter I would never hear again.

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Haniyya'sPOV

"Wakeup Mama na! You need to wake up" I hear Malam Abudu's voice.

MalamAbudu? Why is he waking me up? I'm meant to be hearing Mrs Rachel's voicewaking me up for classes. Or Amani telling me to wake up or I'll miss morningtea. I open my eyes quickly. Then I remember. I'm at home. I'm in Malam Abudu'shouse. The events of the night before came rushing back.

"Mamana it is time for Fajr. Wake up and pray."

"Inakwana (good morning)"I greet him while rubbing my eyes.

I walkslowly to perform ablution. The night feels so peaceful.

I praythe Fajr prayers slowly. I take my time and pray to Allah to bring me out ofthis mess. I pray to have the strength to overcome what might come next. Ummaalways said "Allah never burdens you with what you can't carry". So I havecomplete faith in Allah that I will be alright.

Afterpraying I sit and stare at the wall. What next?

"Mamana. I'm sorry to say but you have to leave now. No one must know you were here.People will start gathering for you jana'izah (prayer for the dead) soon"

Myjana'izah? Oh then I remember baba's words; you're dead. That's the story.

Sohe carried on with it. I'm not surprised. So where do I go to now? I feel tearsforming in my eyes.

"Mamana, don't cry. I called some relatives of mine. They live in Festac. They saidyou can stay with them for a while till we figure something out. Take this," hepasses me some 100 naira notes, "Get on a bus and go straight there. Tell themyou are Haniyya Bilal. Say you are looking for Bashir. You will be safe there." 

Whatsort of God sent man in this? I start crying thinking about all he has done forme. What can I do to pay him back? He has been here for me when everyone walkedaway. He is the real definition of family.

"Thankyou so much Malam Abudu. How can I ever repay you?"

Helaughs "Mama na you don't need to thank me. Your baba has been kind to me somuch for the 13 years I worked for him. It is an honour to do this for hisdaughter. If not for him do you think I will be able to speak English the way Ido? Or take care of my family? Just be strong. You are going to get out of thisIn Sha Allah. You're family to me"  

Aftercontrolling my tears, I thank him once more and leave the room. I walk out,turning to look at the house one last time. I know things won't be the sameanymore.

Sowith a quiet Bismillah (in Allah's name), I leave and start my new journey.

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AUTHOR'SNOTE: I know it's quite short. But I wanted it to just be a filler chapter. Ourlink to Haniyya's new journey.

WhosePOV do you think started the chapter?

I'mso eager to know what you think.

AgainI'm sorry for some words being joint together. It happens anytime I update. It'snot my fault. Pardon me.

Xx