Chapter Two

Ayah was asleep by the time her father got back home that night.

She woke up to light taps on her back, opening her eyes to the dark surroundings of her room. Blinking multiple times in confusion, she had begun to close her eyes again when Barakah's voice reached her ears, bringing her hearing capability back to life.

"Get up," Barakah said.

Ayah turned in her bed, groaning as she stretched her limbs as far as they could go, sitting up right after. The light bulb in her room went on, and Ayah winced at the sudden exposure, closing her eyes to open them gradually until they got accustomed to the light.

When her eyes were fully open, she looked around the room. She spotted Barakah leant against the wall opposite her, few steps away from the spot the switch to the light bulb was mounted, her arms tightly folded against her chest.

She wasn't happy, Ayah didn't need to look at her twice to know that. Her mouth was pulled downwards as though in a permanent frown, her eyebrows pinched towards each other and she hissed every few seconds. She was also pissed off. What could be cause... ?

It all came back to her then. They were getting married, how could she have forgotten something so vital and alarming? Albeit the final decision hadn't been made yet, Ayah already knew what the outcome would be. Their mother would agree to it and then the preparations would have to start right after. They weren't going to be allowed any breathing space, it was what had happened to their elder sister after all.

"Is Dad back?" She croaked, standing up from her bed and making a beeline for the bathroom.

"Yes, about half an hour ago."

Ayah nodded. She stepped into a pair of slippers designated for her use in the bathroom, and closed the door behind her, opening it back few minutes later, having eased herself and washed her face. She felt better and less sleepy, though she couldn't say the same for the knots that had begun to tie in her lower abdomen.

Barakah led the way out of her room, leaving Ayah to turn off the light bulb before closing the door and following her down the stairs. Getting to the foot of the stairs, Ayah could see her mother and father seated beside each other on the three seater couch, their faces turned towards each other.

Upon noticing their presence, Ayah's mother, Zainab took her eyes off of her husband, a smile slowly making its way to her face as she watched them get down from the last step and walk into the sitting room.

"Congratulations girls."

Knowing her mother, Ayah already knew what was to come, but it didn't stop the hole the smile on her mother's face carved into her heart. Did they not care about their feelings at all?

Noiselessly, she took a seat beside Barakah, her lips pressed into a thin line as she crossed her legs against each other, waiting for the scene she had imagined play out in front of her.

"I can't believe I have to say goodbye to you girls so soon," her mother continued, wiping at her eyes for imaginary tears.

"You don't have to," Barakah said, her voice so calm, it threatened to break Ayah's resolve.

Barakah was never calm, she had always been either lively or angry, not calm. She had never been afraid to voice out exactly how she felt. And though she was still voicing out how she felt, Ayah could feel the helplessness with which she did it. There was no way out of this, she knew that, yet, she was unwilling to give up.

"We can say no to the proposals, that would give us more time-"

"We can't do that," Zainab interjected. "This is a very rare opportunity to secure both of your futures. And it's the Khalil's! Do you know how many girls are dying to marry into that family? Just yesterday a friend Mrs Adams - you should know her, was telling me that she sent in her daughter's proposal to them, and mind you, her daughter is also eighteen."

Her mother finished the last part with her eyes trained on Ayah. She stressed out the age, as though to tell Ayah that age didn't matter.

The sitting room was silent for what seemed like ages before her father opened his mouth to speak. "So it's decided then?"

He sat up on the couch, placing his palm on his knees as he looked between both of them.

"Yes," her mother replied. "We're accepting the proposal."

"But Mom we-" Ayah began before getting cut off.

"You don't need to be happy with it, you just need to be able to do it. It's your duty." The look in her mother's eyes said it all, it was over. This was it.

"I'll be getting in touch with the Khalil's tomorrow to decide on when..."

Ayah began to hyperventilate. She saw the room begin to close in on her, the faces of her parents, the smile on them distorting to scary looking things that laughed at her. She gasped for air to no avail despite the abundance of it in the sitting room. Tears brimmed at her eyes, clouding her view of the two people who birthed her and yet had no compassion towards her.

Their distorted voices trailed behind her as she hurried up the stairs, desperate to be anywhere but where they were. She locked the door to her room behind herself in haste, panting with tear streaked face. She slid against it when she was sure she was safely locked inside, landing on the floor with a gasp.

Her mother's words kept replaying in her head, over and over until it was the only thing she could hear and think of; it's your duty. It's your duty. It's your duty.

Ayah didn't know how long she had been in the room for before a knock resounded on the door, bringing her back to reality. An hour? Two?

"Ayah?" Her mother's voice came muffled due to the door in between them. She sounded worried which tempted Ayah to laugh despite herself. "Are you in there?"

Ayah didn't respond. Instead, she pressed her palm to her ears, blocking out whatever it was she was going to say next. With her ears blocked, she could only feel the door vibrating against her back as her mother knocked on. When the vibration stopped, she waited until she felt sure enough that her mother had left her alone before bursting into fresh tears.

She took her hands off her ears to wipe at her tears angrily whilst wondering what her reason for crying was. Was she crying because she felt helpless? Betrayed? Or were her tears for the life she knew she was going to have to give up?

Oh, the things she had planned for herself.

She was going to apply for Psychology at the University of Hecht, her city's most popular university when their admission forms came out which was barely two weeks away. After that, she was going to pursue a masters degree in the same course. Then she could travel to Japan, her dream country, for the sake of exploring and learning about the people and their culture.

Then afterwards she was going to open up her own Therapy Center and Clinic where she planned to help people with all sorts of psychological problem. She estimated she was going to be at most twenty five by the time, then, she could think about getting married.

Was she going to be able to achieve any of those while being a wife who had to have a lot on her plate? Was her husband going to allow her the freedom she desired to do whatever it was she willed or was she going to have to give up her dreams in order to maintain a peaceful home?

What if he wanted children? Was she ready to be a mother?

Ayah casted the thought out of the head the moment it came to her, it was too early to think about that. Right now her focus was supposed to be on how to evade the marriage either by talking her parents into agreeing with them or doing whatever must be done to achieve that.

Judging by Barakah's stance ever since the discussion had come to life, she didn't want to get married either. The thought of not being alone brought a feeling of relief to her, calming her down just the slightest bit. They would find a way. They had to find a way.

°~°~°~°~°

Ayah woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring into her ears. Groaning, she turned around, grabbing her phone to turn it off along the way. She peaked at her screen through one of her eyes to check for the time. It read five minutes past six, she was getting late for her morning prayers.

She had fallen asleep on her prayer mat the night before after praying continuously, so much so she lost track of what she was saying. Her mind had wandered away, perhaps to seek the escape she could only wish for. She had cried up until the point where her head hurt and had fallen asleep much later.

She helped herself up using her bed as support, groaning as she stood fully on her feet. Her legs hurt from the awkward situation they had been suspended in all through the night, and her head still hurt from all the crying she had done.

She walked towards the entrance of her room to turn on the light bulb, her eyes dimmed in preparation for the impact before walking into the bathroom to ease herself, brush her teeth and perform ablution (a ritual bath done before prayers).

After observing her morning prayers, Ayah sat on the mat, her back to her bed whilst scrolling aimlessly through her phone. She contemplated calling her best friend. Six am was too early to call Yasmin, but she was in need of company, more so, Yasmin's. She put the call through when she made up her mind, listening to the oddly comforting beep of the dial tune before Yasmin picked up.

"Why so early?" Yasmin asked.

Ayah found herself smiling to Yasmin's soft laugh despite herself. She closed her eyes, throwing her head backwards. Her head bounced against the soft bed, awakening the headache which had almost completely died down. Ayah stifled a wince, deciding to focus only on Yasmin's voice.

"I need help," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. Her voice was hoarse from crying and not talking to anyone in hours.

"You need me to kick someone's ass?" The sudden fierceness in Yasmin's voice pulled Ayah's smile wider. The feeling of relief which began to resonate deep within her felt foreign, almost new, as though it had been decades since she last felt that way. "Who is it? Is it Barakah? What did she do this time?" Yasmin carried on.

"Just come around, will you?" Ayah said, attempting a laugh which ended up as a cough due to how dry her throat felt. "Your service is needed."

Coming to Ayah's house wasn't going to be a problem for Yasmin, they lived in the same estate, their houses were only few houses apart from each other.

"Are you okay?" Yasmin asked. "Do you have a cold."

"Nah," Ayah replied. "It's a long story. I'll tell it to you when you get here."

"The next knock on your door will be mine."

It wasn't.

"What?" Ayah glared at Maureen, one of the four workers who handled the chores in their house. Maureen who was few years younger than Ayah had her gaze casted downwards, preventing her from seeing the distaste with which Ayah regarded her.

Ayah wasn't angry at her, but looking at her reminded her of her mother, and she was angry at her mother, so naturally, Maureen had to have a fair share from it.

"I'm here to clean your room," Maureen said, raising her head upwards to glance at Ayah. "And also, Madam said you should come down for breakfast."

"I can do it myself." Ayah shut the door in her face. As an after thought, she opened it, happy to Maureen hadn't taken a step away from the door and added, "and I'm not hungry."

Few minutes after chasing Maureen away, the hunger surfaced. At first she could handle it, but as minutes rolled by, her stomach began to hurt, so much so spending a minute more in that state could lead to death. Or at least that was what she thought.

In the course of trying to suppress her hunger, Ayah recalled she hadn't eaten the night before and the afternoon before. The anxiousness from the pending conversation with her father had chased all traces of hunger in her away, and now that it came back, it was with full force.

At first, she was going to stomach it, channeling her thoughts and energy into her excitement for Yasmin's arrival. But as the clock ticked on and Yasmin still showed no sign of arriving soon, she bursted out of her room whilst cursing underneath her breath.

While climbing down the stairs, she wished for her mother not to be in the kitchen, but to her dismay, she was. That however, wasn't going to stop her from going in. Her first stop was the fridge which stood elegantly beside her mother and Delilah, the head cook. They had their heads buried into what seemed to be a cooking manual.

Were they having a guest? Ayah wondered. Whenever they had a guest on the way, her mother would always look for new recipes and new delicacies for them, though that was deeply dependent on whom the visitor was. Which meant whoever the visitor was, they had to be an important person. Could it be the Khalil's... ?

Ayah shook her head. Why did she care? It was none of her business.

The smell of fried eggs wafted into her nose, tempting her to hurry to her mother's side to ask for a plate of eggs alongside whatever it was they were having for breakfast. She shook the thought out of her head, opening the fridge which unfortunately got her mother to look at her.

Paying her no heed, Ayah dived for a bottle water.

"Good morning dear," her mother greeted.

She didn't respond. She uncapped the water with a new found energy, downing the cold substance without a care for her screaming teeth and tongue. She stopped drinking when her mouth went numb, swallowing the rest of it and gently placing the now capped bottle on top of the counter.

As she dived for bottles of soft drinks for herself and for when Yasmin arrived, she heard her mother laugh behind her.

"You won't talk to me, Ayah?" She asked.

"If I had my way, yes," she replied, turning around with a fake smile planted in her lips. "But we live together, I don't see myself having much of a choice... Not like I've ever had any to begin with, but you get my point."

"I understand how you must feel," she replied, raising her hands to touch Ayah's cheeks to which Ayah flinched from. She withdrew her hand back to her side, her face suddenly draining of all traces of the humor it had few seconds ago. "But you'll come to thank us later when you realize we're doing all of this for you. Just you."

Ayah felt sick to her stomach. Swallowing the scoff which was trying to force its way out of her, she grabbed the five bottles of drinks she had picked out one after the other and walked out of the kitchen holding her breath. She was at the verge of losing it, and once again, had lost her appetite.

"I'll have them bring your food upstairs!" Her mother called after her. "And oh, your sister Khameela is coming tomorrow."

Ayah resisted the urge to turn around to ask if her mother was joking about Khameela coming home. When last had she seen her? It had been well over five years since Khameela got married, and she hadn't visited home ever since. Just the thought of having her around almost, almost made the thought of getting married seem bearable to Ayah.

She paused when she passed through the door to Barakah's room, contemplating whether or not to go in. Like her, she imagined her sister was at the verge of losing it too.

She knocked softly on the door, tapping her legs against the floor with her eyes trained on her legs as she waited for Barakah to open the door. The clicking sound of the door being unlocked reached Ayah's ears, and when she looked up, she saw Barakah's head peaking through the space she had opened.

Her facial features softened on seeing Ayah. He eyes were red and slightly swollen, her hair scattered and disheveled. She had drake circles and dried streaks of tears staining her face. She was having it worse than she was.

"Hey," she croaked, leaving the door open before disappearing into the room.

Ayah walked into the dimly lit room, looking around what used to be the neatest room in their house but was looking anything like it. Majority of the clothes from her wardrobe were on the floor, forming a tall heap they had to dodge on their way to her bed. Her bed wasn't laid like it normally was, revealing the flowery designs on the bed cover.

"You did this?" Ayah asked, nodding towards the heap of clothes.

She dropped the bottles of drinks on the floor, looking at her wet hands which had begun to numb out from how cold the drinks had been against them.

"Anger," Barakah replied, managing a small smile.

"Say no more," Ayah said.

They fell into silence afterwards. Ayah rubbed her hands against the silky bed cover, a smile making its way to her face from how comforting it felt to touch.

"What's his name?"

The smile on her face disappeared immediately. She looked at her sister who's eyes were glued to her hands as though they were the most interesting things in her world.

"What?" She asked, looking at Ayah with hooded eyes. "Isn't it better to get used to it now since it's going to happen anyways?"

"Zain," Ayah replied after a moment of silence. "Zain, Khalil."

"Ayoub..." Barakah trailed off, shrugging. Then she laughed almost immediately after, taking Ayah by surprise. "This is so weird."

"You're not alone," Ayah replied, sighing. "I wish I could just run away, go somewhere far away from here."

The room returned to being silent again, the sounds of their breathing being the only sound that depicted the presence of life.

"That's actually a good idea," Barakah said a while later. "We could run away, you and I."

"That sounds oddly comforting," Ayah smiled. "Too bad we can't."

°~°~°~°~°

Ayah had just finished downing the contents of a bottle of soft drink when she heard a knock on her door.

"It's open," she called out from where laid on her bed, her eyes glued to the ceiling.

Having lost hope that Yasmin was still going to visit, Ayah didn't bother looking towards the door as it opened and closed. The dipping of a part of her bed however, was enough to grab her attention.

She had no idea where the sudden energy came from, but she took advantage of it, getting into a sitting position and wrapping her hands around Yasmin's bigger self. She closed her eyes, relaxing to the familiar feeling of hugging her best friend. Her only friend.

"What took you so long, idiot?" She asked.

"My Mom," Yasmin laughed, wrapping her hands around her as well. "Sorry."

Ayah curled up against her, nodding as she did. Tears began to brim at her eyes again, and she closed them, sniffing.

"Are you okay?" Yasmin asked.

Ayah shook her head. It was time, she thought. She was going to tell Yasmin.

"I'm getting married."

Time seemed to stop for a brief moment. The lack of movement or sound from Yasmin got Ayah at alert and she sprang into a sitting position, shifting backwards slightly so she could have a clear view of her face.

Yasmin looked blank, her face devoid of emotions. As Ayah tried to read her, she saw Yasmin trying to read hers too.

"You're not joking." Yasmin said, narrowing her eyes.

Their years of friendship hadn't gone to waste. Yasmin could read Ayah like the back of her hand, and to an extent, Ayah was confident she could see through her best friend too.

"Surprise," Ayah said, attempting at a joke which failed seeing as Yasmin wasn't buying it.

"Your parents are agreeing to it?" She asked.

Ayah nodded. For the second time, she felt her eyes well up again. But this time, she let the tears flow out freely.

Soon enough, she was engulfed in Yasmin's embrace, and the intensity with which she cried increased.