A silent cry

[17] Preparations

I'm so sorry for the constantly late updates everyone! thank you to everyone who bears with me! much love <3

We finally bought the grain and dropped the rest of the things at the house. we spent the whole day at the watermill house grinding the seeds into flour. "I feel like my ears are going to erupt" I shout so Maryam can hear me. She's standing right by me but the watermill is so loud that we have to shout to hear one another. she shouts back "me too". 

 Maryam's friend, I forgot her name decided to come along. I sat on one of the flour bags waiting for the rest. some women started leaving carrying the flour bags on their donkeys. Maryam's friend said we can place our flour on her donkey too. Alhamdiulhua I don't even know if I would have been able to carry the bag.  The flour was scattered all over the faces and clothes of the women near the watermill. none of us cared though as long as we can leave faster.

we walk through the valley with Aysha's donkey, I heard Maryam call her that and now I keep repeating it in my head so I don't sound rude if I try to call her but then ill probably forget soon. Aysha walks near the donkey while I and Maryam walk behind since the road is narrow and with one wrong move you can fall to the side. sometimes I think if you fall you'll just slide down if there weren't little rocks and it was just soil maybe it wouldn't hurt too much. 

Aysha is talking about her husband and how they've been trying to find a spouse for their daughter.  "Ramadan is going to be filled with dua" she says. 

I agreed with the last part. "so many" Maryam replied with a thoughtful look. 

"ya Allah" Maryam says gripping onto my elbow while I almost slip tripping on some small rock. 

"be careful once you fall there's no way I can pick you up, you're too big hab hab" I hear Aysha laugh. 

we reach my house first and we lift the flour off the donkey, the donkey looked exhausted, Poor thing, I would collapse if I was him. I invite Maryam's friend over but she politely refuses and says she has to go prepare and check if her daughter is doing the chores she assigned her. 

"masalama Hadiya" Maryam's friend said and I forgot her name, so I resorted to plan b 

"masalam ya akhuti" (akhuti = sister) this one always works. we exchange kisses and I head inside while she and Maryam converse for a while longer. 

***

 after some time she walks in while I was taking off my niqab and letting my face and hair breathe. we both eat and finish organizing everything we bought. 

 I went out to the backyard and watched the new chickens and rooster that Maryam thought was a good idea to buy. "a long-term investment" she said. I agreed and having some chickens around will probably make the little Jabil on the way happy.

I liked chicken too or more importantly, I liked the idea of free eggs. mmm, ill never have to go to the souk for eggs anymore. "come on hab hab" Maryam calls me to hurry up. She's been acting crazy cleaning every corner even when there isn't much to clean.

we finally finish and I lean back into the sofa and sink, resting my head back. I wasn't like this but I feel awfully tired and disgusted by my own laziness. pregnancy is taking its toll on me. Maryam looks up at the ceiling and I call her name but she doesn't answer. she often fell into her thoughts, I always assumed she was brainstorming a new story, plotting the character's flaws, their achievements, the plot because once she fell into her world like this, nothing seemed to bring her back.

I threw a pillow at her face because I felt like annoying her. it hits the middle of her face, of course even when tired my aim doesn't falter. she grabs it and throws it right back at me. I don't even bother dodging it, I let it smack me right on the side of my face.

"Why did you do that?" she stared at me curious

"if you're making up a story at least let me in on the plot," I said knowing well what she was thinking

"it's a mess, I want to piece it together first"

"give me the pieces," I said

"there's a boy and a girl and he promised the girl he would marry her and he teased her and claimed he loved her but then he stopped talking to her and the ideas of them together dissolved into the days" she sighs and closes her eyes as if the story is already planted in her head

"Why does he leave?" all the fatigue I felt a little second ago dispersed into the air. 

"I don't know yet, I haven't figured that part out, I think maybe he's a jerk, maybe the girl wasn't enough and maybe he never loved her"

I close my eyes this time too, how terrible it would feel to be left like that abruptly, never knowing why it ended. "you can't expect much from haram relationships" I said after a while

"But I never said it was haram," Maryam says defensively as if protecting the girl in the story. I wanted to let this go and pretend like it was just a story but I felt like Maryam was telling me something else. her story maybe.

"him and the girl then --"

"classmates, he filled the girl with lies, talking to her from time to time, a game he played" she interjects

"he sounds like a jerk to me, I don't think he deserves the girl" I look at her, watching the slight tremble of her hands which are formed into fists

"but then the girl gets married and her husband divorces her because she deserves it"

"Why?" she was talking about herself it was clear now.

"because she's the one who allowed her heart to grow fond for someone who hadn't even asked for her hand properly. she was a fool for letting herself feel things like that"

"but she can't control the way she feels, I would be happy too if someone told me they loved me, it's a beautiful thing to be loved, and who wouldn't want to believe they could be loved"

"a person who doesn't want their heart in the hands of another, people can be so cruel Hadiya, they'll take your heart and crush it to pieces and make you believe you deserved it being crushed because you handed it to them"

I take that in and let it seep through my veins, whatever happened broke her. That's the thing about Maryam though it's so hard to tell how hurt she is when she doesn't cry. If she ever does cry it lasts for a minute before she starts acting like everything is fine.

"Maryam.."  before I finish she interjects

"You know maybe I'll never get another husband and maybe Allah won't forgive me, I deserved this it was my own doing"

"Don't say that" I move closer to her, placing my arms on her shoulders and shaking her out of her hopeless thoughts. she never cheated or did anything wrong to her past husband. "Allah's mercy is as you expect it, you must believe that Allah will forgive you, you have been so good and kind. Repent with the hope that Allah will forgive you. 

Allah says "I am as My servant thinks I am (1). I am with him when he makes mention of Me. If he makes mention of Me to himself, I make mention of him to Myself; and if he makes mention of Me in an assembly, I make mention of him in an assembly better than it. And if he draws near to Me an arm's length, I draw near to him a cubit, and if he draws near to Me a cubit, I draw near to him a fathom. And if he comes to Me walking, I go to him at speed." (Bukhari) 

she nods not looking up to meet my eyes. I let her go, she needs to think, I can't completely change her train of thought I can only attempt to alter it and push it in another direction. I can tell her she doesn't deserve to blame herself but she won't believe me not when she has planted this seed in her head and watered it. I can only cut off a few branches and she has to do the rest. " and think about Ramadan, look how generous Allah is, you're getting a chance to witness Ramadan and you're getting a chance every single day to repent. I'll pray for you too, you'll get an amazing, kind, loyal husband insha'Allah."

"insha'Allah" she replies with uncertainty.