I woke up feeling freezing cold, as if I had slept on a hard surface. My entire body ached, my muscles were stiff. But why did I think I had slept in my bed last night?
As I opened my eyes, I realized that I was sitting on the floor, my head leaning against the wall. It was pitch dark, except for a dim light shining through the crack beneath the door.
I wondered what time it was and where my phone was. I hoped it wasn't too late. I needed rest as I had a flight in the morning.
My throat was dry and itchy, and I desperately needed some water.
I groaned in pain as I struggled to get up from the floor. I opened the door and made my way downstairs, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation.
Tomorrow, I would be leaving my hometown, my country, the place of my birth. It held so many painful memories, fights, and hatred. But no matter what, I couldn't deny that it was my safe place, where I truly belonged, where my father and mother were.
It was true that they despised me and didn't care about me. I was certain of this. Yet, I had to be thankful for having them. Even though I felt alone and scared about the decision they had made, I trusted them. After all, I was their daughter. They wouldn't send me away to an unknown place without ensuring my safety.
Moreover, I had my faith in Allah. I believed that everything would turn out well for me and for them.
Lost in my thoughts, I walked right into a wall, hitting my head. It was a painful reminder to pay better attention.
As I rubbed my head, wincing in pain, I heard a voice whisper, "No, we can't tell her. She wouldn't accept that."
I wondered where the voice was coming from. Who would be awake at this hour? Or was it still early? The murmuring continued, and it seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Could it be an intruder?
I took a deep breath and cautiously followed the voices. They grew louder as I approached the kitchen. Just as I was about to enter, I saw my parents sitting together, facing each other. I was puzzled why they would be up so late, engaged in a serious conversation.
"Why are you like this? You're no better than me. You treated her as cruelly as I did. What's the matter now, huh?" my dad exclaimed, standing up abruptly. I quickly hid and pressed myself against the wall, afraid of being discovered.
Who were they talking about? Could it be me? I had sensed that something was wrong. Why would they send me away so suddenly? What could be so important? Were they discussing me?
"No, I can't tell her. I told you she wouldn't accept it. How can she agree to go if I tell her that she's getting married to her cousin next week?" my dad retorted, banging his hand on the table, causing a loud noise that echoed through the house.
Getting married? To my cousin? Next week? The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. They were indeed talking about me. The panic within me intensified. What should I do? I couldn't accept this fate. I couldn't let it happen.
"You can't do this to me! I trusted you, Dad!" I shouted, walking into the kitchen, shocking everyone, including myself. My dad looked shocked.
"Zina, what are you talking about? Why are you awake at 2 AM?" my dad asked, trying to deflect from the conversation.
"Don't you dare change the subject and turn it on me, Father. Not this time," I said through gritted teeth, my anger boiling inside me. My heart raced, and I felt like I could explode at any moment.
I tried to calm myself down by taking deep breaths. "Don't you dare talk to your father like that, you disrespectful little b!tch," he spat.
I closed the distance between us, grabbing his collar. Despite his towering height compared to my short stature, I didn't care. All I wanted was answers. "Father, you say? A father wouldn't just give away his daughter like that. Tell me, what did my uncle offer you? Did he give you money?" I asked, each word punctuated by clenched teeth and clenched fists.
My dad's face turned red with anger, and my mom stood there in shock, unable to utter a word. In a fit of rage, he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. I fell to the ground, holding my cheek, fighting back tears.
But I refused to cry. I had to be strong. "You think you can talk to me like that and get away with it, huh?" my dad seethed, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look at him, breathless and scared.
I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
And then it happened. He slapped me again, this time even harder. I collapsed to the floor, feeling weak and powerless. The pain surged through me, but I felt numb, detached from it all. I had reached a breaking point.
He released his grip on my hair, causing my head to hit the ground with a loud thud. I was too weak to fight back. The desire to escape overwhelmed me, to get away from this nightmare.
With what little strength I had left, I pushed my dad away and he stumbled, falling to the ground. My legs trembled, and my head spun as I turned and ran towards the front door. I opened it wide and ran as fast as my legs could carry me.
I didn't know where I was going. All I knew was that I had to escape.
Eventually, I reached an abandoned building and sought refuge inside. I saw that no one else was there. Overwhelmed by emotions, I collapsed into a corner and sobbed uncontrollably, my cries echoing through the empty space.
In my despair, I began banging my head against the wall, hoping to numb the pain and make it all stop. But then, someone pulled me closer and hugged me tightly, begging me to stop.