Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem


I am lost. I am lost. Truly, I have nowhere to go. I have nowhere but Your door to go to.

I’m in the midst of the storm… and there is no-one who can save me from it but You. I am searching for the way out… but every path looks the same. Truly… without You…

Without You.

What had my life become?

Those two words had summed it up quite accurately.

Without You. Without Him. Without my Lord… truly, I had become lost. I had lost my way… lost the path. Lost my entire purpose.

And now, everything was a mess.

The sound of the front door opening was a shock to my now calmer system. Just those few minutes of realization had settled my mind momentarily.

My heart jumped up to my throat once again, and I sat up, hearing Jameel place his keys down… and then waiting for the confrontation I expected.

His footsteps were loud and with purpose. There was no question that he was looking for me. He was checking the lounge. Dining room. And then, after what felt like ages, he finally entered the room, and looked at me sitting on the Musalla.

“So now you pray,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “How did you get home?”

I glared at him with hatred. I ignored his question. I had gotten a lift from a friend I had met through him, but I didn’t want to tell him that. I didn’t want a reason for him to start name-calling again. 

“Jameel, how could you?” I asked, my voice trembling. I didn’t realize how affected I was.  “I trusted you. How could you?!”

He looked at me blankly.

“Oh hell,” he said tiredly, running his hands through his hair and sitting on the bed. “Don’t psycho analyze me. I’m not one of your students.”

I stared at him in utter bewilderment.

He was going all defensive now? He was wrong. He was doing something wrong. And yet, he still had the audacity to be cocky. I couldn’t understand it. Was this what drugs did to you?

“Listen, Leikha,” He said, his voice now softening a bit. I was hopeful as I looked up, my eyes still teary. I wanted to cry again, but I needed to have this conversation first. It wouldn’t help if I broke down. 

“There’s no need to make a big deal,” he said casually, shrugging and looking at me condescendingly. “It’s just a little cocaine. It’s really no big deal.”

I widened my eyes at him, my mouth agape.

“A little cocaine?!” I said, my voice getting louder, not believing my ears. “It’s a drug, Jameel. A highly addictive drug! How can you take it so lightly?”

He sniffed a few times as I spoke and I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been before this to not notice all these obvious signs.

“Leikha, everyone is doing it,” he said, sniffing again and looking at me as if I was stupid. “All the big guys. You think all this money comes by itself? Think of it as an investment. A little cocaine… and it opens up doors I never knew were there. It opens my mind… and I can see things so much clearer. It’s just now and then… when I need to impress people. Don’t worry, it’s not an addiction.”

I blinked as he spoke, wondering if he was serious. An investment in drugs? What kind of good can that do? 

I was convinced that the cocaine had altered his brain. 

He was still talking. He was talking about being socially streetwise, and on top of the game. His words were as flowing and impressive as always, and although I always thought that drugs made you dopey and induced slumber, what I didn’t know was that this was typical cocaine high symptoms.

The perspective. The confidence. His whole demeanor was completely contradicting what I always thought a drug addict would act like.

Everyone was doing it? That was his justification. Were his cousins all drug addicts too? His friends? I had been so stupid. 

The tears were now flowing freely, and I could not believe the mess that I had gotten myself into. The money. The show. All of the pomp and luxury… it all came at a price. A price that had nothing to do with money. A price that was very, very expensive indeed. 

I was choking over all the emotion and my vision was blurry as I sat on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to do.

How did I get out of this? Where was I to go now? I had nowhere to turn. 

Jameel was looking at me with pity and I turned my face away as he tried to come closer. He wanted to comfort me but I didn’t want anything to do with him. 

I edged away. I was disgusted with him. So disgusted that I had lived with this drug-induced man for so long. So disgusted that he was probably sniffing powder right under my nose and I had no clue about it.

And now, though I felt horrible for saying it, the worst part of it all was I was having his baby. The baby that I prayed with all my heart would be normal… because he was probably using drugs even when I had fallen pregnant. He was probably using drugs from before we had even gotten married.

Of course, all that money didn’t come from nowhere… 

“Just leave me alone!” I screamed at him, jumping up from the bed, and putting my hands out to stop him from coming any closer “Just GO!”

Jameel obeyed. He wasn’t going to force himself on me… that much I was grateful for. My voice was loud, and I didn’t realize just how loud until I heard footsteps coming into our house. And then, I heard the voice of our most unwelcome visitor.

“What’s happening here?” 

He voice was acid-like, as usual, and although I usually hated her presence, for once, I was glad about the intrusion. This was something that she needed to know. 

Jameel’s eyes widened at me in warning, but I ignored him. I hastily wiped my tears as I stood up, seeing my mother-in-law entering our bedroom without permission, as usual. She looked from me to Jameel and frowned. 

“You didn’t come see me,” she barked at Jameel, obviously annoyed that he didn’t come to dote on her like she expected him to. 

“And what the hell are you screaming for at this hour? You know we live in a civilized neighborhood, unlike you.”

She made no effort to hide her hostility as she spoke to me.

“Ask your son,” I said boldly, swallowing hard and straightening up as I spoke to her. She needed to know. She needed to know the truth. 

“My son?” She spat. “He was not the one acting like a barbarian. Jameel, sort your wife out once and for all so we can all get some sleep tonight.” 

She looked at Jameel expectantly. 

“Ma, go sleep,” he said smoothly, but there was a hint of something else in his voice.

It was something that I didn’t recognize straight away. Something that Jameel didn’t often show.

Fear. Jameel was scared. And if Jameel was scared, there was only one way to nip this in the bud. I was not going to keep quiet. 

“Jameel is on drugs,” I blurted out, my voice surprisingly steady. “I just saw him. I think he needs to get help.” 

Jameel blinked at me in disbelief at my boldness, and his mother looked stunned for a few seconds as she processed what I was saying. 

“Mum, it’s not what she thinks-“

She held up her hand to silence him, and without a word, she turned around, and then started to walk away. 

Walk away. Really?! I should have known. I should have known she wouldn’t acknowledge that her dearest son has a problem.  

And then, just as suddenly, she paused, and I was hopeful. Hopeful, that maybe I had redeemed myself even minutely. Hopeful that maybe she may actually say to Jameel something that he needed to hear. 

Turning around again, she glanced at Jameel, then looked me in the eye. Those few seconds felt unbearably long. 

”He is a grown man,” she said finally, and I almost stumbled backward, feeling like there was a knife thrust into my chest. She was unaffected. “He knows his limits. And besides, with a wife like you nagging him all the time… you can’t expect the man to remain straight. Think of it as something you brought upon yourself, my dear.”

And with that, she turned around, leaving the room in a deafening silence. 

What on earth?! 

I was stunned. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breathe. My heart was hammering in my chest again and I suddenly felt all limp. Limp and weak… like I was going to faint. 

And then I looked at Jameel, my eyes trying to plead with him. I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t live with this guilt. I had gotten lost, and I needed to find my way. I needed him to help me. 

I wished that I was stronger. But I wasn’t. It was a tide of raw emotion… and it was about to engulf me. I could either succumb… or…

“Jameel, please,” I said, my voice dripping with desperation. “For the sake of our marriage. For the sake of this baby, Jameel. Please… leave the drugs. Leave this life of duniyaa and fantasy. Let’s change. I’m in it with you.. let’s change our lives.”

My voice was breaking. There were tears flowing down my cheeks again, and I met his gaze with open sincerity, hoping to see something stir within him. Hoping that he would hear my plea. Hoping for him to budge… even if it was just a tiny bit. 

“There’s nothing to change, Zuleikha,” he said, his voice stiff and his expression hard. “Our lives are fine… we have everything we want and more.”

I frowned, amidst the tears that flowed down my cheeks.  

But we didn’t have  what we need. We didn’t have peace of mind. We didn’t have the richness of the soul. We were empty on the inside.

I couldn’t go on like this, and I had to let him know. 

“Jameel, our lives are not like Muslims should be,” I sighed, now feeling completely drained. “We have no purpose. We have no prayer… no Salaah, no Duaa… “

I broke off, waiting for some recognition in his expression. There was none. It was like talking to a brick wall.

I loved him. I wanted him to get better. 

I had to tell him. I had to let him know that it was now or never. 

“If you not with me on this,” I finally said, plucking up the courage to finally say it. “Then, I have to leave.”

He was looking in the mirror as I spoke, but as I uttered the last three words, his head turned to me with sudden purpose, and a certain ferocity that I had only seen in Jameel once before entered his eyes once again. In a flash, Jameel darted to me, grabbed me by the collar of my nightgown and pulled me so close to his face that I could smell the menthol bubblegum he used to disguise his cigarette breath.

 “You think your father went missing by chance?” He muttered into my ear, looking at me with contempt.

I tried to struggle free, but his grip was too tight. He was hurting me.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he continued, through gritted teeth. His eyes were blazing as he spoke, and I almost wanted to gag as he tightened his grip on my neck. And then he uttered the fatal words. 

“If you ever leave me, Zuleikha, I promise… I will find you… and then… I will kill you.”

9 thoughts on “Trapped

  1. Assalaamu alaikum
    I don’t comment often, but I must say I absolutely love your writing and how you put the harsh realities which this ummah is facing into your stories.

    May Allah let it be a means of awareness for all of us and a reminder of wha is important to us Muslims whilst we travel through this journey of life.

    Keep up your amazing work maa sha Allah 🌹💞💐

    Liked by 4 people

    • Wslm sister, shukran for the comment… 🌸 at least I know the little effort is appreciated. May it be a means of help or guidance for someone out there… it sad that this is actually a reality and a big thing like drug addiction is really taken lightly by some naive people.
      Allah make it easy for us to be the best Muslims we can be ✨

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I somehow had a feeling Jamel had something to do about Abba disappearing. He just confirmed it. Poor Zuleikha she is very naive. May Allah help the sisters of the Umrah who have to undergo such tests. Aameen.
    Sister Your writing is super amazing MashaAllah 💞🌹.
    May Allah make it a means of hidayah for the whole Ummah. Aameen

    Liked by 2 people

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