Her Secret
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Última atualização qui, mar 29, 2018
She was a pious Muslimah. She obeyed what her Lord had told her and she never argued with her parents. But then when she lost someone close, her mother departed. Slowly slowly, day by day, Maryam started becoming depressed. His death hurt her more than anything and that was all she could think about. Maryam lost hold of herself. Her mother never knew her daughter self harmed every night. It was Maryam's secret. And when she lost another close person Maryam fell into a deep hole. Deeper than the one before. Now, Maryam lost hold of herself as well as her faith...
°°°°~°°°°~°°°°~°°°°~°°°°
"Mum please understand! I don't care anymore! I just want to leave. Why should I stay? You don't care about me and he left us? He didn't care about us...so he left...just like you...You don't care about me anymore. You don't cook for me anymore. All day all you do is eat, pray and sleep. You used to shower so much love upon me and ask me if I prayed. You used to read the Qur'an out loud so I could hear you melodious voice. But now? Now all you do is pray then read the Qur'an quietly that i can't even hear you anymore. And then you leave..." Maryam shouted, more like whispered, to her mother who was now breaking down.
Maryam couldn't hold it in any longer. She exposed herself and her mother felt shocked. She wanted to hug her daughter but she couldn't. Her daughter was right. She didn't feel anything anymore. She saw the scars but she didn't feel a wince of pain. She just told her to cover them or else she will make a disgrace to our family. After that she left. Despite all the riots, her mother still felt soundly asleep. Leaving her broken daughter in the middle of the grand mansion, crying her eyes out, pouring her heart out to her father - who she knew heard every single letter of hers.
#818 in Spiritual ~ 18/2/18
(CC) Atribuição-NãoComercial
#11
jasmine969946
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"𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚." ~~ DIVORCE AGREEMENT. My hands went numb. The paper trembled between my fingers. I looked up at him, praying it was some kind of twisted joke. But he didn't even flinch. He just pushed the pen towards me, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "Sign it, Mishti. You wanted him free. This is the cost." My chest tightened, the fever, the ache, the weight of everything crashing over me all at once. Behind me, I heard Arav struggling, his voice raw, "Don't you dare, Mishti! Don't beg to him. Don't give him that satisfaction. He should be the one apologising to you, not the other way around!" Sultan clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing. "He's still talking... making me angrier." His tone was calm, terrifyingly calm. "If I want, I can let him rot here for years. Do you want that, Mishti?" My stomach twisted. My hands were shaking uncontrollably now. He was serious. Dead serious. The inspector slid the pen into my hand. My eyes stung, the words blurring on the page. I didn't even recognize my own handwriting when I pressed the pen down, signing my name with a trembling hand. It felt like I was signing away more than just a marriage. I was signing away a part of myself. When I lifted my head, Sultan was watching me. Not triumphant, not smiling-just cold. "I want to start fresh. I'm planning to get married again. I don't want your nuisance anymore." I swear in that moment, something inside me just collapsed. Like all the years, all the love, all the pain I carried-it was for nothing. I wanted to scream, wanted to beg him to just once look at me the way he used to. He fixed his watch, straightened his cuffs, and picked up his coat like this was just another meeting that was done.
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