Behind A Smile ✔

3

The day broke faster than Zynah had anticipated. She was awakened by the call to fajr prayer. She quickly rose to her feet and headed straight to the bathroom to perform ablution.

Emerging from the bathroom, her gaze trailed to Bilal who was still comfortably sleeping in the bed and snoring lightly. She dared not wake him up to go to the masjid, for she knew what the outcome of her action would be and she was not ready for it yet — the day had only just begun. Her husband was the type of person who didn't like to be disturbed, especially while sleeping. He would get up like a wounded lion ready to pounce on its prey.

Breathing profoundly, she walked to where she always put her prayer mat — on the top of her bookshelf and took it. She spread it neatly on the floor and began to pray her obligatory prayer. After she had finished praying, she sat down on the prayer mat for a long time, pouring out her heart to Allah and begging Him to forgive her for all of her mistakes. She deeply regretted most of her decisions she took in life.

Folding the prayer mat, Zynah noticed Bilal had still not woken up. She contemplated on waking him or not. He would be angry — she knew that for sure, but decided to still do it anyways for Allah's sake. She sauntered towards the spot the always kept the mat after use and returned it to his place, then headed towards the bed. "Bi—" she was about to utter his name, but cut herself off abruptly before she could do that. Since the day he started abusing her, she had stop uttering his name from her mouth. His name alone saddened her. She used to be happy, then he came along and ruined her life. He made her feel empty inside. She was still breathing, but her life was meaningless already  Swiftly, she shook her head, getting rif of the thought from her head. She inched closer to him and tapped him on the shoulder once, but got no response from him. She repeated the action severally before his eyes fluttered open. He groaned and started muttering words that were incoherent to Zynah's hearing.

She paid no attention to what he was saying and spoke; "it's time for prayer." before he would start behaving maniacally, she turned around and ambled out of the room.

Bilal's gaze trailed behind her her retreating figure. She knew exactly  what would have happened had she not left the room — he shook his head at the thought, then left the bed for the bathroom to perform ablution.

By the time he emerged, he knew he wasn't go to catch up with the imam, as he had already missed the congregational prayer, so alternatively, he prayed at home.

Zynah was just about to start preparing breakfast when she heard the doorbell ring. She couldn't fathom who was at the door in such early hours of the morning. "I'm coming." She yelled, as the doorbell continued to ring. "Who's there?" She inquired when she got to the door.

"It's me, Khadijah," came the reply from outside the door.

"What is she doing here?" She gasped. "What if he sees her?" She quickly opened the door and allowed her in for it was beginning to seem rude, leaving a guest outside for a long time.  "Deej...ah" she stuttered.

"Good morning to you too." she responded, sarcastically and went ahead to take a seat on the couch.

Zynah smiled; "I'm sorry, I was just so surprised to see you here at this time of the day." She voiced.

Khadijah didn't reply. It was as if she didn't even hear what Zynah was saying because her gaze was focused on Zynah, searching for any possible bruise on her body. She had a strong hunch her husband was abusing her.

Zynah noticed the way her friend's gaze was fixed on her. She regained her composure and waved at her. "Hey! Are you alrigh—"

"I should be the one asking you that, not the other way around." Khadijah cut her off, looking straight into her eyes. There was something she wanted to see in them, but she couldn't. They say; the mouth may lie, but never the eyes, but in Zynah's case, it was different, even her eyes could lie. "How do you manage to do this?"

"What do you mean?" Zynah chuckled, standing up. "I'm perfectly alright. Let me get you something to eat and—"

Khadijah grabbed her wrist before she could leave, "I'm not here to eat, I'm here to talk. What's wrong, Zynah?"

She looked at her wearily. "I have told you; nothing is wrong." Only Allah knew how much she wanted to cry on her friend's shoulder and blurt out every single thing her husband had ever done to her, but she couldn't. She controlled herself from showing even a tad bit of melancholia. She needed to be strong at that moment.

Khadijah seemed unconvinced by her words. Her brows furrowed in perplexity. "Then why did you end our call yesterday so hastily? I even heard something falling, were you the one?"

"Oh that?" Zynah laughed, hysterically. "That was because I had to use the bathroom urgently. I'm sorry I didn't call you back." She apologized.

Khadijah nodded her head, but the demeanor she had on, anyone could tell she didn't buy the story. She was about to speak when she noticed a bruise on Zynah's hand. She quickly caught her wrist and asked; "what's this, Zynah? Who did this to you?"

Zynah yanked her hand away. "What do you mean who did this to me? You don't think—no!" she laughed, feigning humor. "My husband would never hurt me. He loves me. I burnt myself while cooking yesterday."

"But it doesn't—"

Zynah was quick to cut her off. "If you're only here to accuse my husband of what he is not capable of doing, please leave."

Khadijah was more convinced he was indeed hurting her, given how defensive Zynah got, but she decided to let the matter rest for the time being. She would bring up the topic on another day. "I guess I have overstayed my welcome." She gave a closed lip smile and got up to leave.

Zynah resisted the urge to stop her from leaving. She wanted to apologize for the way she spoke to her. She wanted to tell her she wasn't the enemy like she made it look, but her abusive husband, but her feet remained glued to the floor and her lips, sealed.

Hearing the door close, Zynah sat down on the couch, demoralized. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, blurring her vision and a lone tear escaped, then more followed. She had lost a good friend.

In the midst of crying silently, she was oblivious to Bilal's sudden presence in the living room. He stood there just glaring at her for some seconds before startling her by speaking in his hoarse voice.  "I heard voices, who were you speaking to?"