MEMORIES FLOOD 1
Jalal had said she was safe.
He had said it more than once—firm, steady, reassuring.
But Fatimah didn't feel safe.
Not even a little.
Her body still trembled, her chest tight as if the fear had rooted itself deep down in her.
She turned slowly to look at her mother.
She remembered how she had shield her, taking all the hits and blows.
Her mother's face is swollen now and she was not sure whether it's from the consistent crying or from the hits.
Fatimah allowed her mother to lay her quietly on the bed, without saying anything to each other.
The silence between them was heavy —grief.
Fatimah turned away, presenting her back, and shut her eyes—pretending to sleep.
Her mother pulled the sheets over her carefully, as though she might break, and patted her softly.
She then spread her blanket on the floor and prepare to sleep.
Before she lay down, she took a glance at Fatimah again to ensure she was sleeping already.
She took in her daughter's form in front of her and blamed herself. Her daughter is so young and she had caused this much pain to her. It's all her fault, she didn't deserve all this.
Afraid she might woke her, she covered her mouth to stifle her cries. She then turned to lay over her prepared blanket.
Everything went quite and still.
Fatimah had felt her mother's lingering gaze on her.
After everything went silent, she turned to look at her.
In the dim light, she could make out her mother's figure under the sheet.
It shook slightly and she knew it —she was crying again.
She knew her mother was blaming herself for everything again.
If anything, her mother was also a victim. They both were.
She adjusted her body and faced the ceiling.
How did it all began?
Where did things started to go wrong?
Her father, Badir Iran— was not always like this. Growing up he was the father figure every kid would love to have.
Tears brimmed her eyes as her memories starts to flood in.
***
"Baby girl, how was school today?" Badir asked five-year old Fatimah.
She pouted, looking sullen.
"I don't want to go to school anymore."
"Why, darling?"
She crossed her arms.
"Daniel said have never gone to the amusement park ...and can never go because you don't have a job." she answered, bitterness and childish anger evident in her voice.
Badir looked at her warmly and scooped her up in his arms.
"So who is this Daniel? ...and how dare he annoy my baby?"
"Daddy, he is one naughty tall boy in my class ..." she pouted before looking at her dad, "...he is a bully, can you beat him for me?"
Badir laughed and said, "Darling, you know I could beat him if I want to but we have to do something better that would hurt him more than beating."
Hearing that young Fatimah felt elated and looked at her father eagerly.
"What is it, daddy?"
"We are going to the amusement park tomorrow."
Fatimah felt over the moon when she heard that. Not only would she be able to brag to Daniel and others at school, —she would also be able to enjoy the feeling of going to an amusement park with her father.
She jumped in excitement in her father's arm.
"Lady, careful now ...." He chuckled . "...we don't want to fall, do we?"
She nodded and calmed but still the wide smile on her face refused to leave.
She had the best of her life then. She was the only child of her parent.
Her mother, Halimah Iran —was a business woman. She ran a boutique shop which was very successful.
Her father didn't work.
But he was present.
Always there.
Playing with her. Laughing with her. Loving her.
Their father-daughter bond was so strong even Halimah would always tease her jokingly.
"Are you trying to steal my husband from me now?"
Everything was going fine, until that particular day —five years later.
Fatima was already ten years old.
For the first time ever, she heard her parents having an argument in their bedroom.
The argument was loud and heated, she even heard things crashing to the floor.
She was scared something bad might have happened and she tiptoed to the bedroom door.
"Am I not your husband anymore!"
Badir's angry, frustrated voice drifted to her from behind the door.
"I am tired of playing second fiddle to you!, I am a man!... if you know you really love me and you want me to continue be her father— then, sign the papers."
Her mother's voice came softly, almost inaudible. Fatimah had to strain her ears but still she couldn't make out her what her mother was saying.
Silence —
Then—
"There is no way about it—" She heard her father's voice again, loud and angry. "—Just sign the papers and we would be good, then I can act like the man I am. Do you know how long have been putting up with you and your daughter—"
Halimah's voice sharply cut him off here.
Not hearing her mother's voice, she could only wait for her father's reply.
"Yeah. I know she is, I accepted her ... didn't I?"
Fatimah was confused, what do they mean —what is happening.
She heard fast heavy footsteps approaching the door.
She then hurriedly ran to the kitchen to avoid being seen.
From there, she could see her Father storming out of the house.
She stood and watched as he slammed the door, got into their family car and drove off.
She went to her parent's bedroom and saw her mother sitting on their bed, her face in her palms.
She looked lost in thought and barely noticed Fatimah as she sat beside her.
"Mummy ...why are you fighting with Daddy?"
Startled, Halimah looked up and saw her daughter sitting beside her, with a worried expression.
"Teemah baby... who told you I was fighting with your dad?" she teased, forcing a smile.
"But..."
"No but darling ... I and your dad are just discussing on something, I promise we are not fighting, okay."
"Okay Mummy." She looked still with a worried expression and asked again, all in one breath.
"But where is daddy going? ... when is he going to be back? he didn't even kiss me goodbye as usual —he even called me 'your daughter, am I not his baby girl anymore?."
Halimah froze.
Worried about how much her daughter might have listened to.
Her expression changed.
"Why were you listening to our conversation, Fatimah?"
"I'm sorry, Mummy… I didn't mean to…"
"Was that a good thing to do?"
Fatimah shook her head.
"Will you do it again?"
She shook her head again, tears brimming.
"Good," Halimah said softly. "Now come. Let's get you something to eat. Mummy will fix everything, okay?"
"Stop crying and let's go to the kitchen."
The incident that day had been the beginning of everything.
The day her happiness castle starts to crumble.
Her mother had told her, Badir would be home later that night but he never came home. He didn't come home the next day.
It's been five days since he left home.
That afternoon she saw her mother by the table counter sobbing. She was viewing some documents and putting her seal on them.
Then, she had thought maybe her parent are leaving each other but she was still too young to fully understand the complicated things.
What she knows is whatever her mom choose to tell her.
The next day, her father came in with a cake and wine.
Although Fatimah resented him for leaving her for so long, but she had missed him also.
She rushed to welcome him excitedly like a puppy happy to see it's owner after a long while.
Her mother also came out to welcome Badir.
Badir with the smoothest —warmest smile, hugged both her daughter and wife together.
Then he whispered something into her mother's ear, making her force a smile.
It seemed as though she is being forced against her will. The family reunion that day was superb and she had thought the bad days were over, not knowing it was just the beginning of a nightmare.
A Hellish—designed nightmare.
Just for them.