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I wrote this story in my WR 324 (Fiction Writing) class that I took fall term 2007, but it's not as good as my other stories. I thought I would post it anyway.
As I awoke, my body wracked with uncontrollable shivers and I could feel the sweat dripping down my face. My eyes cracked open with alarm as I felt the rapid beating of my heart from the one real nightmare that could never be forgotten. I couldn’t stop looking at those eyes—those obsidian eyes that were so dark and endless. Those eyes that were full of fear, shock, and something else…” I sat up, waiting for my heart to calm down and the air to return to my lungs. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I slid out of bed, knowing I would not be able to fall back asleep.
It had been about a year since that incident. It was the reason why my dreams were always filled with nightmares from that night. Everyone had noticed a change in me. The most noticeable change had been the significant weight loss. I had always been chubby but within the past year, food no longer appealed to me. My parents and friends just thought I was dieting. They said I was in good shape and that a swarm of suitors had become interested since then. It’s ironic that when I was chubby the men coming to see me were few and far in between but when something as drastic as this happened, they would eagerly ask for me as if I had become one of the most popular girls in school.
When I had come back home that night a year ago, it was late enough that my parents were already asleep. I had felt so dirty that I can’t even remember how many times I scrubbed and rinsed myself. I had to get the feeling of those men off of me. The only thought going through my mind was how to keep everyone in the dark about this. I had no idea what my parents would do or say or what would happen to me. The next day I went to one of my friends’ houses—one who I knew was sexually active. While she was in the bathroom, I snooped around her dresser until I found a bottle of Plan B and took a pill. She wouldn’t notice. Nobody would have to know—I couldn’t afford to let anybody know.
I had never heard of a Muslim girl ever being in this kind of situation before and it terrified me. I didn’t look like a Muslim, always wearing what my parents called “modern American clothes.” Then again, since my parents weren’t Arab, they weren’t as strict about my dress code as the other Muslim parents were. I didn’t cover my head or face, I wore t-shirts and jeans, and though I never drank alcohol, I did go to a lot of parties. That night I had gone to party hosted by one of my “American” friends so I was wearing a skirt and a t-shirt. I knew that I shouldn’t have walked home alone from the party but I didn’t want to become a burden to anyone since I was leaving earlier than everyone else. I never thought anything would happen.
Physically, I was healing slowly but surely. Mentally, I thought I would never heal. I never told anyone and had never planned on telling anyone about what had happened that night. I kept a diary hidden under my mattress because I was too afraid to keep a blog online. I didn’t want someone randomly searching and finding my blog, only to call the cops. I was always cautious about what I wrote on my blog. It was never anything too personal. It was something my friends could read and they would know that whatever I put in my blog was part of who I am. They didn’t know that the person I became around them was nothing like who I was inside.
Today was Friday—a day where most people start to relax, party, or bar-hop, after a long week of work or school. Today was also the Muslim Student Association’s first meeting of the year. MSA had become a joke recently because we rarely ever did anything, and if we did, it turned out to be something that had nothing to do with Islam. In the past, all of us would take turns reading the Koran, our holy book, or we would read a book of sayings from the Prophet Mohammed. We used to actually plan activities, like barbeques, informational tables, and bring in guest speakers so our city and student community could learn more about Islam.
I couldn’t believe that this was the beginning of the end. The end of the first week of my senior year and I was already ready to get out of college and fully experience the world. I guess having lived here my entire life I wanted to find someplace new where I could start over—where no one would notice the difference between the girl of last year from the woman of this year.
This was also a time when my parents started actively looking for suitors to find a potential partner for me. Since we aren’t allowed to date, we have arranged marriages, and the first step to an arranged marriage is to find a man that fits the bill. Ever since I had lost weight, there were many suitors who had come to our house. Many of them were handsome, had a sizable bank account and had a good sense of humor. I said no to all of them. Ever since I was young I had wanted to get married and fall in love with my husband, but those dreams had been shattered just like a part of me had. I never told my parents, but after what had happened, I never planned on getting married. I didn’t want to endure what would happen on my wedding night and I knew that any man that I married would notice right away that I was no longer a virgin and they would tell my parents and probably divorce me and find a “pure” woman.
I knew my parents were getting upset because of all the men I had turned down over the past year. I don’t even think I cared much anymore. Out of frustration, I told them that I decided to just marry the next guy that my parents thought would be a perfect match for me. After my parents would say he’s a perfect match, I would talk to him alone and tell him all my secrets. I just hope that if I do tell him, he wouldn’t say anything to my parents—maybe he would be too shocked and disgusted to do much of anything. I wouldn’t blame him though. I was disgusted with myself and still shocked about what had happened.
Another suitor was coming to see me this weekend. I wasn’t worried at all about my parents picking a man for me. They knew me well enough to know what I did and didn’t like in a man and what I expected of him in the future. My parents didn’t know much about this one though. All they knew was that he lived in
“Annie!”
“Yes Mama…”
“Remember to call me when you get out of class. I want you to pick up some groceries for this Sunday.”
“Okay Mama,” I replied.
Throughout the day, classes kept me pretty busy. I was getting a BS in Health Administration and was planning on getting a Master’s in the same field. I was swamped with studying for classes, applying for graduate school and studying for my GREs—not to mention the constant cleaning of our house, which was always swamped with suitors.
After getting the groceries for my mom, I went back to campus to go to the MSA meeting. I had a lot of Muslim friends that I didn’t get to see often because I wouldn’t go to the mosque. Instead of going to the mosque, we would usually pray and eat at home seeing as my parents were always busy. We didn’t exactly have any activities for MSA going on lately so it would be nice to see everyone again. I entered our meeting room amidst hearty ‘Salaam’s’ from everyone and hugs from the girls.
Omar, the president of MSA stood up and looked around. “Is this everyone?” he asked.
At that moment a man came strolling through the door. “Asalaam o’laikum everyone, I’m sorry I’m late! Did I miss anything?”
All I could see were those eyes—they weren’t obsidian like I had recalled, but they were still very dark, a brown pushed to the brink of black. His hair matched his eyes and was very fine. All those memories that I had tried to pushed to the back of my mind came rushing back.
I started walking faster and then suddenly I heard footsteps behind me—that was when I started running.
Men surrounded me to the point where I couldn’t breathe. They wouldn’t let go of me—they wouldn’t stop touching me.
One of them told the others to stop but they overruled him and all he could do was watch. The only thing I could do with shock and the burning of tears in my eyes was to watch him. “Please help me…” He didn’t respond to my helpless plea, but continued to stare as if he couldn’t believe what had happened.
“Annie, are you okay? You look pale,” one of my girl friends said. His eyes widened with shock when he noticed me. As soon as I locked eyes with him, his gaze turned apologetic as if he were ashamed.
I turned away from him and told everyone I had to use the ladies’ room. My mind was swirling with so many emotions that I wasn’t sure what to think. Once I entered the bathroom, I let out the tears that I’d been holding back earlier. I didn’t know if I could handle him being there or not. So many questions were plaguing my brain. Had he told anyone about what happened? Why hadn’t he helped me at least try to get away from those monsters? Why was he here?
So there I was in front of the sink in the girls bathroom, gasping for breath as if I’d run the mile. When I came out he was waiting for me outside, probably hoping he would get a chance to talk to me, but I walked right past him.
“Annie, wait…” he said. I turned towards him giving him the kind of look that would strike him like a blade in his heart.
“Annie, I’m really sorry…about what happened. I was too scared…”
“Scared? You thought I wasn’t scared when they held me down like that? If you were so scared, why weren’t you scared enough to call the police?”
I was so upset that I couldn’t stop the tears coming from my eyes. I knew that he was telling the truth though. I would’ve been too stunned to do anything other than watch. In that one conversation, his eyes told me so much about him. He was being sincere and somehow I knew that he hadn’t forgotten what had happened. Maybe he was even having nightmares about it like I was.
He let go of my arm, turned and walked away. I took out my cell and dialed the number of one of my friends in the meeting to let them know that I wasn’t going to be able to stay.
All weekend, my thoughts were filled with the mysterious man. I was surprised that I didn’t know anything about him—not even his name. This wasn’t all that big a city and word traveled fast. If he was new, everyone would be talking about it. Maybe he was just visiting.
The weekend was a blur of homework and thoughts of him. Pretty soon, it was Sunday—a day where most people in our moderately sized city would be waking up to go to church soon. My family on the other hand, was expecting guests so my parents required that the house be cleaned. These weren’t just any guests though. They were specifically coming to see me—another suitor and his parents coming to impress us with how much money they make, how much religion means to them, and how I’ll be able to get my happily ever after with them.
I was so sick of all these men coming to our house. I just wanted to be left in peace to finish my degree and be able to find a job. I didn’t feel like having another stressed-filled weekend catering to people we didn’t even know.
The doorbell rang and my parents went to greet the guests. I ran upstairs. Once my parents thought he’d be a good match, they’ll come up and get me. I waited what seemed like for hours until my mom came up into my room and told me how handsome and established Amir was.
I came downstairs, only to find him there. I didn’t think I would ever see him again, but he seemed just as surprised as I was. Our parents, who were seated in the living room, told us to go talk alone in the adjacent room.
We sat across from each other and the room was suddenly filled with an unbreakable silence. Both of us were trying to figure out what to say to each other. He finally broke out of the uncomfortable silence and said, “I didn’t know that my parents had recommended you for a bride.”
“Why were you here from
“Please…tell me the truth.” He was like an open book. I only had to read his eyes to see what he was going to do.
“I came up with a four of my friends to look for a potential bride. They didn’t know that though. The guys thought that we were just going on a road trip. In every city we stopped in, they would go into bars or clubs and they would come back drunk. That day you were invited to one of your friends’ parties. We were invited to the same party but we came a little earlier.
Before going though, I told them not to drink because it was a pain in the ass to take care of them afterwards. Of course they promised but as soon as we came to the party, they got a hold of some booze and couldn’t stop. When you were walking past us in the parking lot, I tried to turn them around so they wouldn’t see you. One of them did, and once he saw you, all of them did.”
By this point I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. I was in a daze so I didn’t notice when he came and sat down beside me. I felt his hands wipe the tears from my cheeks. Stunned, I looked up at him. In our culture, men and women weren’t allowed to touch before marriage, and here he was touching my face with his hands. It was endearing and scandalous at the same time.
“I tried to stop them…I did everything in my power to stop them. I know I should’ve called the police but my mind was blank and I didn’t know what to do. After they left, I drove back to
He looked at me with his sad eyes and with finality said, “I’ll tell my parents that we’re not suited for each other. They’ll understand. I just hope that someday you can forgive me.”
I turned towards him. “Amir, I forgive you.” The joy in his eyes brought delight to mine. “I don’t think I am able to marry anyone right now, but I will tell my parents to keep you in mind. I do want to marry someday…but…maybe we were not meant to be.” He nodded his head in understanding.
When Amir and his parents were getting ready to leave, he came up to me again. “Thank you Annie...thank you Qurrat-ul-ain.” As I gazed through my window while their car left our driveway, I knew everything would be alright. Knowing that my mind would finally have some peace, I smiled. Everything would be alright.
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