Chapter 13: Aleena

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Aleena's Point of View:

When something weighs on your conscience, give it up.

- Prophet Muhammad (pbuh)
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Everyone in the room turned to watch the woman stand and speak, their ears attentive to the words emitting from her mouth. Safa gave me an astonished look as if neither her or the girls had ever heard her speak before. I turned to the woman before me and crossed my arms. I had noticed the band on her arm and it's uncanny resemblance to Shibs's but decided to pretend I hadn't noticed it. With my arms crossed over my chest, I gazed at her and watched as everyone glanced between us. "And how would you know that."

"Because I've been here longer than anyone of you girls, and trust me when I say, what you see outside has nothing to do with us."

She took a few steps into the light and I watched as her face came into view. The stern look in her gaze, the way her black eyes contrasted with the whites of her eyeballs, the downward slope of her nose to the outline of her lips. She was beautiful. The wrinkles under her eyes and hidden in her cheeks signaled to me that she was an older women. She seemed like one of those people who kept to themselves, but I had a feeling she knew more then she was giving out.

Suddenly feeling cautious of this women, I uncrossed my arms and frowned. Everyone gathered around to listen to what she had to say. Noticing the hush that enveloped around her, she pointed at me and told me to follow her. I watched her turn around and walk to the room we just came out of. Confused out of my mind, I glanced at Safa and watched her quirk an eyebrow at me as if she didn't know what to do either.

We both decided we have nothing to lose, and followed. The dim lights in the kitchen disappeared, and the hum of the open door greeted us. I walked in and spotted her sitting down on the bed. I walked down the red carpet, and sat down on the stool with Safa next to me, watching as the women uncovered the blanket like cloth around her and warm her hands.

"Who are you?" She kept quiet for a second and I thought she hadn't heard me when she spoke ever so softly.

"Nimra." That name sounded oddly familiar but I nodded my head and cleared my throat.

"I'm Aleena, and this is Safa but you probably already know her." She nodded once and kept quiet, all along staring at the ground and nothing else. Suddenly she looked up and fixed her eyes at me.

"Before I tell you anything, I need to know I can trust you both. What I'm about to tell you, I've never told anyone before."

I paused and glanced at Safa before we slowly nodded our heads in unison. She glanced up at us, and I saw a faint of a smirk appear on her lips, as she sat upright.

"Good. Hand me that cloth." Safa glanced behind her, and grabbed the damp cloth from the bucket of water and handed it to her. We watched as she cleaned her hands and pulled up her sleeve. A gash long and dark red appeared just above her wrist all the way to her elbow.

A gasp left my lips, and she just smiled and cleaned at it. "It's an old one, but pulled open this morning. Nothing to it."

Still wiping at the old gash, she began to tell her story. "I've been here more years than I could count, and this feeling never gets old. The screaming, the heavy scent of blood, and the cold. It's something that'll stay with me forever. When we first came here years ago, we came to make negotiation with the men to help stop the recent hijab bans, and it backfired. I told my sister that small talk wouldn't work, and I ended up here."

"Your sister? Is she okay?"

"Let me finish my story and you might just find out." Safa nodded, a hint of red appearing on her cheeks before Nimra continued.

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