2.Hasna's execution day

Hasna's heart pounded violently in her chest as she was led toward the execution room. The thought of death was overwhelming, and the image of those she had wronged flashed in her mind—faces she couldn't bear to remember. Perhaps this is how they had felt before their lives were taken. Now, she was feeling that same terror.

Fear and uncertainty were the only emotions she could grasp. She wondered desperately if Allah had forgiven her for her actions. The thought of eternal punishment in Jahannam filled her with dread. As they made their way to the platform, Hasna couldn't stop thinking about her grave, and the loneliness that awaited her in the cold, unyielding darkness. But she clung to her faith, reminding herself that Allah was her only hope, her only refuge.

The guards blindfolded her, tying a cloth tightly around her head, and guided her up to the platform where the rope awaited her. The noose was snug around her neck, and she could feel its rough weight pressing into her chest. Her nerves were frayed, fear gnawing at her insides, leaving her feeling utterly alone. The room was filled with others condemned to the same fate, their silent terror mirroring her own.

Hasna inhaled deeply, trying to summon the strength to face her fate. She didn't want to die. She needed another chance—one last chance at life. But as the moment drew closer, the fear of death consumed her, leaving her feeling hollow, like a shell of the person she once was.

Her mind raced as she stood on the scaffold, the noose biting into her skin. A deep sense of regret and fear washed over her as she realized that her life was about to end. The roughness of the rope rubbed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She wondered how many others had stood where she now stood, their final moments ticking away as they faced the end.

The fear was suffocating, making it difficult to stand. She wanted to run, to escape the reality of what was about to happen, but there was no escape. The room was thick with the sound of muffled sobs and occasional whimpers from other prisoners, each one gripped by their own terror.

Closing her eyes, memories of her past flooded her mind. There had been so few moments of true happiness in her life, but in that instant, even the smallest joys felt precious. She whispered to herself, "Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un," a reminder that to Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return.

Her heart raced as she repeated the phrase "lā ʾilāha ʾillā llāhu muhammadun rasūlu llāhi." She sought strength and peace in these final moments, hoping against hope that Allah would grant her forgiveness. The fear and sadness were overwhelming, and she braced herself for the angel of death, who seemed to be drawing ever nearer.

But it was not easy.

The weight of the moment was crushing, and she shook uncontrollably, her fear manifesting in trembling limbs. Death was terrifying, no matter how much strength or courage one possessed. Hasna was no exception. She was human, fragile, and filled with emotions. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out to Allah, pleading for mercy and forgiveness.

"Allah, please help me. I don't want to die now. Oh Allah, please forgive all my sins. Ya Ar Rahman, please bestow your mercy upon me." The words echoed in her mind as she wept uncontrollably. The people around her pitied her, but they knew she had to face the consequences of her actions.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. She watched as the executioner received a signal and reached for the lever. Her heart raced with terror, and she bit down hard on her inner lip, trying to hold on to the last moments of her life. Tears flowed freely as she called out to Allah, her pleas for forgiveness and mercy becoming increasingly desperate. The weight of impending death pressed down on her, so intense she feared her heart might stop before the rope even tightened. In these final moments, she clung to her faith, calling upon the infinite mercy of Allah, hoping for a reprieve.

Suddenly, the tense silence was shattered by the sound of a door bursting open. A figure rushed into the room, panting, their face marked by urgency. They pushed past the guards, thrusting a piece of paper into the hands of the police officer in charge. The officer's brows furrowed as he read the document, then immediately signaled to the executioner to halt. Muted whispers rippled through the room as the officer stepped away to confer with other officials.

Hasna, lost in her own fear, barely registered the commotion around her. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand at her neck, and then, with a jolt of disbelief, the noose was untied and removed. She exhaled deeply, unaware until that moment that she had been holding her breath.

Dazed and confused, Hasna struggled to comprehend what was happening. She was led off the platform and back to her prison cell. A guard informed her that she was fortunate—her execution had been postponed due to new evidence presented on her behalf. The words barely registered. Could it be true? Had she really been given another chance at life?

Back in her cell, Hasna sat down, her mind a whirlpool of emotions—relief, confusion, gratitude, and lingering fear. The weight of impending death had been lifted, but uncertainty about the future now took its place. She had been granted more time, but what would she do with it? The question lingered in her mind, as heavy and persistent as the noose that had just been removed from her neck.