Escape to Nowhere

Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem

Zuleikha

“Where were you?”

My words were acid-like as I saw my sister stroll in at nearly 5-o-clock that afternoon. What on earth was she doing out till so late? I’m sure Abba will let her have it if he knew.

“Um, I,” she stumbled over her words relentlessly and I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. “I had something to sort out.”

I wasn’t going to let it go. Later on I would pursue this, but as Khawlah turned away from me and made her way to her room, I just felt so drained. So indifferent to everything else.

She wasn’t looking at me properly, and I understood why. Even looking at myself was a task, and everytime I caught sight of my battered face, I literally wanted to tear it off.

Today, instead of it looking better… it looked ten times much worse. It felt like I had been hit like a ten ton truck… although that could very likely be due to the lack of sleep too.

I touched my face for the umpteenth time that day, wincing again as I pressed the tender contours of my bruised eye.

The blood that had been fresh yesterday had formed a soft but painful scab on the inside of the wound, but I knew that it was just a matter of time before it would start to heal properly.

My new phone that jameel had bought for me buzzed as I sat on the front couch, turning my face slightly so I could see the recipient of its vibrations.

“Please answer.”

The words stared at me as I looked at my phone, already annoyed at the sender. Jameel was pestering since the morning, and all I wanted to do was be left alone. I was still reeling from yesterday… I hated the way he made me feel, and he needed to know it. My phone buzzed again, and although I tried so hard to fight the urge, I could not help but look down.

“I won’t do it again. I promise. I love you.”

The screen was almost pleading with me, taunting me to respond to its appeals.

I thought of Jameel’s handsome face. How I loved him. Moreso, I loved the life he was giving me. The luxuries. My husband was my weakness, and he knew just how to get me.

I just couldn’t forget his look of utter indifference as I had cried out in pain.

My mind played back the memories from that fateful afternoon, and I couldn’t help but remember the series that all started with the visit to Aupnty Romana. It was the third time I had stepped foot in the mansion-like home, and as usual, they were all gushing over Jameel like he was some kind of god.

Of course, he loved the attention he was getting. I did too. The fact that he was my husband, and came home with me every night would make it all okay. It didn’t matter that he would be looking at every woman around… he was still mine.

“You two look more and more gorgeous every time I see you guys!” Aunty Romana gushed, squealing in delight as Jameel leant forward to hug her lightly. I couldn’t help but feel flattered at her comment, because I knew I had made an extra effort that day.

I reached forward to hold his other hand, a little insecure. It was one of those big cousin get togethers and I wanted to stay as close to my husband as I could.

“You know Uncle G will be so proud of you, when he hears the good news about the contract,” she winked at us, and then tossed her hair back as she screamed for her husband.

“I’ll go find him,” Jameel said a bit too eagerly, and I knew it was because he was itching to escape her penetrating gaze. Jameel didn’t deny it when I had mentioned that ahe was obsessed with my him, and I knew that he wasn’t sure how to react to it. She was so much older, and of course, like a mother-figure to him. She was so obvious about her sugar-Mummy crush that it made me feel sick.

Of course, anything to do with money, or earning more money of which there was already too much, was a huge achievement. I didn’t deny it because of course, I benefited immensely too. All the good stuff I could ever dream of was at my disposal. I lived the life of a queen, loved it, and Jameel never said no to anything. Besides that, he would spoil me relentlessly, and I couldn’t complain.

I could see Jameel swiftly casting his gaze around the room, and I followed him as he went forward, my six inch heels just a little wobbly on my unsturdy feet.

I knew I had no reason to feel insecure. Today I had made an extra effort… and I knew, to him, I was looking great. Jameel had put his stamp of approval on my royal blue skinny pants and white zipper shirt. Casual and carefree was the look I was going for, and I let my hair down for the first time, loving the feeling of being free and fitting in.

All his cousins were around, and I didn’t want to look backward. I greeted them enthusiastically, spotting his cousin who I remembered meeting the last time. Her name was Layya and today she wore a stunning gold dress, that again sat above her knee. She had the most perfect and toned legs, and she knew it. Her hair was up in a bun, and it was no doubt that this cousin of Jameel’s was his favourite, and probably the most attractive too. The familiar green monster was brewing within me, although I told myself not to be ridiculous.

Couldnt she dress a little less openly? I thought to myself, hating the way Jameel went forward and greeted her affectionately.

Even though I still didn’t like her, I understood now what my mother-in-law was talking about. Jameel had his father’s habit. With Jameel’s wondering eyes, I had to keep him interested. I just wished that he could focus on me now too, that we were in public. As I caught sight of myself in the surrounding mirrors, I could see my own reflection behind my husband.

I looked gorgeous. I knew it. He had told me so too. So what the hell was his problem?!

“Jameel, can we go outside?” I whispered to him as he greeted his uncle, wanting to get away from the crowd for a bit.

I could see he was annoyed by my suggestion by the slight frown on his face, and he ignored me as he spoke to his uncle about the new contract he had gotten, which was the highlight of the year and why we had been invited here in the first place. I felt even more awkward.

There were a few of his female cousins around, and even though I had met them before, I wasn’t sure how to strike up a conversation. I sauntered off to the outside area, eager to be out of the spotlight for a bit.

The function was fully catered and I joined the other younger girls who were there while they ate whilst standing, listening to their conversation and saying as less as I could manage. There was no way I could be the odd one out and find a place to sit. I would look like a real eyeball if I had to worry about the Sunnah of eating right now, even though Mama had always been so strict about it. Mama didn’t know about these kind of functions back then. She didn’t know how these people would judge me.

They weren’t unfriendly. They just spoke on another wavelength to me. It took me a while to realize that KUWTK was a programme on television, and that the sisters they were talking about were actually celebrities.

I blushed as they spoke about baby daddy’s and some other stuff I found a little x-rated. Most of those girls were younger than me… I couldn’t believe they even knew about those things.

I hastily made an excuse to leave the crowd, eager to find my husband again. I didn’t want to smother him, but I was actually missing his voice.

I sauntered off to the sitting lounge, knowing I could get some peace there. It was just as I entered, that I saw Jameel sitting there, and he looked in deep conversation as he spoke. I took a step back and watched him, not wanting to be rude either. He wouldn’t like it if I interrupted him, so I moved slightly more out of view, not expecting to see his cousin sitting so close next to him, that I almost missed her completely.

I jerked back in shock… just catching sight of my husband’s hand on her bare thigh.

I could not believe it. Why on earth were the two of them alone? What exactly was going on?

My senses were sent into shock as I literally ran out of the room. I wasn’t sure what was happening. I wasn’t sure if Jameel saw me. Tears blurred my vision as I ran… not even knowing where I was going. All I could think of was Jameel and his hand on his cousin’s thigh. It played on my mind, over and over, until I literally wanted to puke.

I ran outside, far from everyone, reeling over on the side of the driveway, trying to balance on my heels and compose myself at the same time. My stomach was churning. My eyes were burning. The bile was collecting in my mouth as I tried to keep my vomit inside.

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to vomit here.

“Are you okay?”

The voice was dripping with concern as I looked up, with great difficulty, to see one of Jameel’s male cousins, looking at me with worry. He was as tall as Jameel, and his eyes were slightly lighter than usual. They reminded me of my own.

I quickly looked away, not knowing what to say. Hoping to control the nausea. It was the first time I had been confronted by a strange male, and now was not exactly an ideal time.

My stomach churned once again, and this time, I opened my mouth and I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

With desperation, I clung to the shrub next to me, and retched with all my might. It was only then that I felt strong hands hold me back from falling into my own vomit, and although I could not stand the thought of a strange man touching me, there was nothing I could do but let him merely hold me up as I felt like my entire stomach was emptied.

I shook myself free as I felt the nausea subside, not knowing how to explain to him that he shouldn’t be touching me. I couldn’t even look up, and hearing his soothing words, asking me politely if he could call some help, I managed to look up at him again.

“What the hell?!”

It wasn’t him speaking and he didn’t say hell. He used a more abrupt version.

It was Jameel. That was Jameel’s voice. It seemed like he was looking for me, and he rushed up to us, pushing the other guy away as he lifted me off the ground, trying to balance my unsteady legs.

“Leikha, what the shit is going on?!” He said, not only addressing me, but also the guy who was trying to help me. “And why the hell are you touching my wife, bru?! Piss off!”

I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t think. I just let him guide me to the car, letting him jump in and drive me away. It all happened so fast. I wasn’t sure how to ask him.

I could only think of that Hadith that Mama used to read to us. The one just stood out to me so clearly…. About everything bad that happens to us was because of our own sins… our own mishaps.

I was sorry. I was bad. I was sorry that I had been bad. I could only think about how I violated my own principles. How I had let myself down. How I had let my Allah down. Now it was too late. Now my husband was a cheater. A cheater.

“I hate you,” I spat, not knowing what else to tell him. Him and Layya. I could  not swallow it. What would he say? Should I ask?

He looked at me, and then, all of a sudden, he stopped the car. Dead. We were on a side road near our home, and I couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell him more or to ask him… because I was still feeling so weak.

“You hate me?!” He said, his voice slightly raised. His eyes were thunderous with anger, and I flinched as he spoke, his voice booming again.

“You dress like a whore… you act like a whore…  and you hate me?!”

Jameel’s eyes were flashing angrily as he watched me, waiting for my reaction. I was scared. So so scared.

I had never seen him like this. I had never heard him say things like this. Why was he being like this?

It wasn’t  him.

It wasn’t him. It wasn’t.

Okay. It was him. It was. But why?

He was just angry. Maybe he thought I had asked that guy for help. Maybe he thought something else. And as I sat there, making excuses for him, I knew that something bad was coming.

And then it happened.

The voice was screaming out to me in my head as he lashed out, and I couldn’t believe that it was my Jameel who was doing this to me. I couldn’t believe that he was destroying me like this.

The shooting pain wasn’t immediate. At first I was numb, as he issued not one, not two, but three pulsating lashes… then… then I felt the burn. Then I felt the stinging on the side of my face.

I reached up to my cheek and looked at him in disbelief, and almost immediately, the anger in his eyes had dissipated. Instead, now, all that was in his eyes was fear. Fear and desperation.

“Leikha…” he breathed, and I could see that he wanted to talk. Talk. That’s what Jameel was good at. Talk his way through business. Talk his way to charm… talk his way out of an accusation he knew I had against him.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t sure how to act. All I knew was that I had to get out for now.

Without even thinking, I reached for the door handle, and I opened it, knowing that all I could do was run. It didn’t matter how far. It didn’t matter how safe. It didn’t matter that I would go back.

I had to go. For now, I had to escape.

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Dear readers

A bonus post and change in theme again as we start to highlight some important aspects that I wanted to bring in. ✨

There is a Hadith that mentions that our ruin will sometimes also come in the form of Duniyaa luxuries, and if we persist on disobeying Allah, these comforts are actually a punishment for us.

May Allah Ta’ala save us all…

Much love

A 🌸

 

• Abuse
• Islam
• Marriage
• Relationships
• Romance
• Sin
• Strength
• Tests
• Weakness