ChPter sixteen. Not very long but definitely important. This will sort of remove the curiosity around Wafaa so enjoy :))
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Wafaa.
..Every time I thought about what I had left behind, my heart hurt. Every time I thought about who I had left behind, my soul shattered. Every time I thought about what I could never escape, my throat tightened. Every time I thought about the life that lay ahead of me, fear grasped me like anything. Every time I thought about the life that I was destined to live, I wanted to choke myself. Every time I thought about what freedom meant to me, tears rolled down my cheeks. Every time I thought about how cursed I was to be born a woman in this world, my faith got weak.
These days, I only thought and thought.
My whole life, I had lived with a family that did not give a shit about its women. For them, women were just pawns in their games and right now, I was the pawn. I was the woman who was supposed to to sacrifice myself for their sake.
I hated it. I hate everything that existed in this world and yet I could never escape it. The only way to escape this life was death and I did not want to die. Therefore, I had to endure and survive.
For the most part of my life, my mother had protected me and tried to shield me away from the cruel nature of our world. My father had been, better than most fathers of our world. He had shown me virtues like kindness and affection but never love.
For him, love was a weakness and love of a family was the biggest trait of them all. My mother always told me that it wasn't always like this, even monsters had hearts that beat for their women and my father loved with every being of his body.
What changed then? My aunt ran away on the day of her marriage and left our entire family bewildered and humiliated. After that, all family didn't exactly trust women.
We were caged.
I did not know how things used to happen before me, but all I ever saw was my mother begging my father to let me study, my mother begging my father to let me live my life. I never begged for anything because I had seen what begging did to my mother.
He slapped her across the face whenever he wanted to, yelled at her whenever he wanted to, humiliated her and sometimes even got to a point where he would hit her and the bruises would last for days. I did not want to be subjected to such cruelty.
The only time I ever begged was the day I wished to study abroad. Since I I had studied in a a school and college near my village, in a town.. all I ever dreamt was to see the outside world and to see what the world had to offer.
I still remember the sting of thee slap that I received on my right cheek because I begged my father to let me go abroad and study. My father was not the one who had slapped me, he simply stood and stared at me. My brother had been the one to lift his hand. He had every cruel bone in his body.
