Darkest Hours

PROLOGUE

"OUCH! THAT HURTS!" I winced as mother applied unguent on my bruised arm. Everything hurt at that moment - even my heart too.

     Mother slowly looked up. I watched as her lips curled up into a smile - a forced, tight and frozen one. It was worn to make me feel better and it did made feel a bit relieved -and curious. Her face held lots of emotions, mysteries, secrets, hidden pains and most especially fear. But it had always managed to show that motherly love and care. Her lips slowly parted and formed the best soothing words:

     "It's alright Nisha," She cooed letting out a soft wind from her slightly parted lips. "I really wish I can make the pain go away," Still smiling with ease, she continued tending to the other bruised parts while I quietly wished or prayed the pains I was feeling away. My spirit was broken -so was I.

     "Mother, why is Father always mad at us?" I managed to ask. My eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Mother ignored me and continued tending to the bruises inflicted upon by Father. I noticed she was no longer smiling. But that didn't stop me. I was eager to know why my Father despised us a lot -especially Mother.

     Why does he scorn us? Why does he abhor us? Why is he always treating us like some piece of rag? Why does he enjoy hitting us -especially Mother? I thought we were family but why does he treat Mother, Farooq and I like some kind of slave? Why so much hate for Mother? Why always yelling at Mother? Why has he never shown Mother an iota of love? Why always hitting Farooq like a full grown man when he's only four? Why do we lack fatherly love?

     All these questions roamed in my head as I tried hard not to ask them.

     I'd always envied our next door neighbors. I never for once heard them argue. They were always happy. Most times when I look through my room's widow, I'd see the family playing loudly together or even going for a walk. Their father never hit them. The kids were allowed to leave the house or even go to school . Unlike us, we were the complete opposite. We were trapped in our big, gloomy and scary looking house. We were never allowed to go to school like normal kids do. Farooq and I were made to sit quietly in the study with our private teacher-an unfriendly stern looking old man. We were banned from leaving the house. All we ever did was read our books,say our prayers and read boring old newspapers. Failure to observe the complete Salat brought upon us Father's wrath which include beating the crap out of us and having us locked up the next day in the scary and cold attic without food or water as we were forced to ask for Allah's forgiveness. No one ever came visiting except Mr.Rasheed-our boring and out of shape teacher. We had no friends or even a TV in our huge monster house -and like that, we had no idea of what went on in the outside world -the real and the actual world.

     Of course, there were moments of happiness; Usually when Father was away for business trips which may last some days or a week -never more than that. We always had full control of the house during these times. Farooq and I and even Mother could skip prayers. Those were the only times we put on our best mood and did whatever made us happy.

     But still we were never allowed to leave the house or have anyone pay us a visit.

     Father's arrival always dragged us back into our shells. We had no other choice but to live in bondage again! Father created fear in us.

     "Mother,you're not answering me," I uttered hoarsely as a tear escaped my eye. I hated the fact that Mother wasn't saying a word. I could feel my chest tightening. It was really burning. I was upset. Mother's silence was not helping. I no longer had control of the tears that rushed down my cheeks. I angrily wiped them off with the back of my hand. I was mad at everyone and everything. I was mad at Father for inflicting both physical and emotional pains on us and always mad at us. At Mother for not telling me why Father was the way he was and always having to concur to whatever he said without arguments like an obedient sheep. And at myself for getting on Father's nerves that day. Only if I was asleep like Farooq was, maybe that would have kept me away from that day's trouble.

     The tears kept coming though I tried to fight it back. I kept rubbing my eyes violently -angrily.

     Mother gently raised her head. Our eyes locked. Her face was numb -no expression, just silence. Her very fair skin was almost white,like there was no blood left in it. Her lips parted but no word seemed to form.

     Why is Mother suddenly mute?

     I was almost forced to keep quiet, but something in me wanted to keep going. I wanted to let it all out. I wanted answers.

     "Talk to me,Mother," I whispered amid tears as I held her hands. Her lips moved again but words weren't just coming out of it. That raged me more. I hated the fact that she wasn't talking to me.

     "Mother why does he hate us so much?" I sobbed loudly.

     "Your Father don't hate anyone,Nisha. Your Father loves you. He loves everyone, Nisha,trust me," She finally found the right words -the same old lies! No hope, just lies. Lies told to raise my hope high and make me feel better. But they no longer made me feel better. They only made me more curious. The more lies she told,the more curious I got. I didn't realise this until I found myself asking the questions in my head:

     "You claim he loves us, why then does he treat us like some piece of rag? Why is he always yelling at you,Mother? Why is he always hitting you? I thought we're family, why then does he treat us like slaves? Why always hitting little Farooq over every slight thing? Why aren't we allowed to go to school like all normal kids do? Why aren't we allowed to leave the house.................."

     "That's enough,Tanisha!" Mother yelled. Her eyes held angry tears that could drop any moment. She was really raged. "You've said enough for today," She noted angrily as she flashed me a burning glare. "Go to your room now and do your homework. It's getting late already. Don't come out until I call you for dinner. Understood? "She demanded angrily. I said nothing as I continued staring at her. I knew she was scared of confronting the truth. She was afraid of father -yes she was and we all were.

     "Don't just sit there staring at me like that. Do as I've said now." She didn't suggest but she commanded. I ignored her for a moment and after sometime I reluctantly and sluggishly rose up. Mother started putting the first aid kits back into it's box. "Make sure you wake Farooq,so you can both observe al-maghrib." She noted just as I was about to leave the kitchen. I didn't stop nor look back as I angrily made my way out of the kitchen.

     Almost immediately I left the kitchen, the front door slammed. I knew it Father. Father was back. The monster was back!

     My heart did a quick flip as I raced up to my room and shut the door. That was my own way of disappearing. I didn't want to be consumed by the monster!

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Hey guys,
Thanks a lot for reading:-*
I'd really like to know what you think about this part. So do me a great favor by dropping your thoughts off in the comment section, let me know if I should continue or not. Also I have not gotten a cover for the book yet, so I'd really appreciate if you can help me create at least one;-)
Love y'all :)