Dawud.

Chapter 26: Him

  بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, then  Most Merciful

Jannah's P.O.V

I woke up to the sharp pain burning in the lower half of my belly. Yup, it was that time of the month again. My head felt as though it was being pressed against a wall and lifting it off of my pillow was another story. I kicked the lilac-colored duvet off of my body, embracing the cold air around my room. It made me shiver, just like my dream had done.

I had woken up from a disturbing nightmare. The worst part was that it was a flashback. His brown eyes, his sly smile and the way he squinted when he stood directly in the sun. He used to be the very reason I lived, smiled and breathed. Before I was practicing, he was my life and I guess that's what made it so easy for him to break me.

It was the past, I know, but it haunted me every time I was alone with a guy. I never knew the situation would escalate like it had. If I could only turn back time.

As I brushed my teeth and washed my face, a swift flash of his face painted itself in my line of vision, over and over again. My heart swelled up and I couldn't ignore it any longer. The large and thick wall I built between him and I had to collapse. And so, I let it fall.

We were sat on a knit blanket. I was munching on some grapes absentmindedly as he watched me with a thoughtful expression. I remember, being the fifteen-year-old I was, feeling a sudden anxiety wash over me. When I glanced at him and he smiled, revealing a set of beautiful white teeth, my mind was at peace once again.

I pulled out my camera and snapped a photo of him in the sun. His tan skin was gleaming. He chuckled, taking the electronic from my hands and sliding it back into my backpack.

"Enough with the yearbook photos, please." He begged. His voice was high, due to our age. We were sophomores in high school, after all.

He placed his hand on my thigh and I pushed it away. Once he asked me what was wrong—despite the uncomfortable chill that came with his touch—I shrugged and blocked the sun's blazing heat from my eyes with my hands. "You know, lunch is almost over. We should probably get back inside." I suggested. My voice was shaky.

He shook his head. "No, I have something for you." I watched warily as he leaned forward. Once I realized what he was trying to do, I fell backwards in fright. My back pressed against the knitted blanket and I felt the cold sweat seep through the thin fabric of my shirt. "C'mon, Jannu. I know you want to." He taunted me. There was a hint of desperation in his voice and it sent chills up my spine. I remember the way my hands pushed against his chest as he hovered over me. He gripped one of my arms but failed at catching the other one as it made contact with his defined jaw. I remember yanking my backpack off of the blanket and racing back to school as fast as I could. I remember his voice as he called my name angrily. I remember it all.

The next day crept into my mind and I allowed it to spread like vines. He wore a pair of burgundy jogger-pants and a striped blue and white t-shirt. We had science class together and so there was absolutely no way I could avoid him. I hadn't told a soul about what happened that day, although it rested on my tongue every time someone had asked me what was wrong. I remember how he strolled into class with his shoulders hunched forward. His hair was ruffled and he sported a glum look. I felt as though I had did something wrong. He dropped his backpack on the floor and sank into the desk next to mine. We sat shoulder to shoulder, giving me goosebumps. "Jannah, I'm so sorry." He whispered. The teacher started the lesson, turning to the board and projecting her cringe-worthy voice. She wrote with a small yellow piece of chalk that crumbled once it couldn't handle anymore of her writing. "Jannah." He repeated, this time stroking my cheek. Our teacher searched the class for a fresh stick of chalk. A few girls turned their heads and watched us in admiration. They didn't know what happened yesterday. They didn't know how uncomfortable I was. But the more people turned around to look at us and sighed dreamily, the more I told myself that this was right. I was going against every principle I believed in but I stopped caring in that moment. I wish I hadn't.

Him and I went on like that for a few more months. He became a lot more expressive and I become a lot more submissive. It wasn't until he locked me in the janitor's closet and tore my shirt hungrily that I couldn't take anymore. I remember the way I kicked the door open and sprinted towards my locker. I remember the way my comrades and classmates looked at me with perplexed expressions as I held my shirt together with my hands. Muna and Warsan were nowhere to be found and so I went home early that day. My high school was a few miles from my house and I walked every step of the way, crying and wailing in despair. Knowing my mother was at work, I removed the house key from under the doormat and entered my home. Mariam stood in the foyer, frozen and in her pajamas, with a box of pizza in her hand. I let the events unravel and I'd never seen my sister so angry. Without the knowledge of my mother, my sister and I took it to the office and the next day, he didn't come to class. Months went by but he never showed up. He must've changed schools.

"Jannah!" My mother called me from the kitchen. I opened the washroom door and wiped the tears that soaked my cheeks.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to work. Make sure to clean the entire house! I'll be back by sunset, Insha'Allah."

I sighed, throwing my head back against the door. The pain I felt in my body spread, causing me to slide against the door and sit on my bottom. The cold washroom tiles sent shivers up my bare legs.

I had to clean this entire house. Nice.