The Shards of Silence

Chapter 8

“Each day I endured a new type of torture,” Jabbar spoke while trying to contain his voice. “They would tie me up and electrocute me or would gag my mouth and cover my head with a sack and drown me in a bucket filled with dirty water. They just didn’t care about my well-being, just wanted me to be alive so that I could speak.”

Jabbar stood up to stretch his legs and headed to the vending machine beside them. “But unfortunately, I didn’t have anything for them because I really didn’t know Dr. Ali bin Abdullah.”

Emma looked at Jabbar with sympathetic eyes. She knew how hard it would have been for him. “Jabbar, I know I can say that I can understand your pain, but I can’t,” Emma finally spoke trying to break the silence. “This might be tough to recall, but just let it all out. Tell me, what else happened in the prison.”

Jabbar returned to the bench they had been sitting on and offered a soda can to Emma, he continued with his story.

“No one heard the truth that I had to share. All they cared about was the whereabouts of the Imam, a person whom I unfortunately met twice in my lifetime. As days passed, I started losing my will to live. I wanted to be strong for Amara but I was tired, hungry, and hurt, and I had no one to share my pain with. In a moment of weakness, I started calling upon God. I didn’t know whom to pray to, all I knew was that I had to pray. So, I started praying in order to continue living. My mind was always filled with the thoughts of Amara and our child. I kept dreaming about them and was worried that my flesh wouldn’t know who I was and only wished that Amara would show my pictures.”

Emma observed a man, broken yet with eyes filled with love. Though she wished to offer comfort, she knew it wasn't appropriate in her professional role. Instead, she remained seated, giving her full attention to his story.

“I imagined having a daughter,” continued Jabbar, “A splitting image of my Amara. They told me that Amara was all right, but deep down, I couldn’t believe them. If they knew where my Amara was, they would have brought her sooner to my cell so that I could tell them about Dr. Ali bin Abdullah. I knew they bluffed just like I did.” Jabbar covered his face with his hands and looked down at the soft grass under his feet. “There were days that I wished for everything to end. I would try different ways to commit suicide and as soon as I was about to succeed, I was revived back to life. Those monsters laughed at me and taunted me. It was as if they wanted me to try and kill myself so that they could watch me break and as soon as I would be near my freedom, they would get me back to health. I didn’t know how long that lasted till the day I came out of the hell on earth.”

“So, when were you released from the prison,” Amara asked.

"It was back in 2008 when they finally decided to let me go. And before you ask why, let me tell you why," he explained. "Following the 9/11 attacks, there were various reactions worldwide, including protests, rallies, and in some cases, riots. These responses occurred in solidarity with the victims, especially the backlash against Muslim communities. But above all, the Imam was killed in a crossfire, and they no longer had any use in torturing me," Jabbar smiled at Emma. "I guess I just got lucky."

“I am so sorry Jabbar,” Emma responded, slightly touching Jabbar’s hand with her little finger, hesitating upon her touch.

“It’s getting late,” Jabbar responded, gently withdrawing his hand. “We can continue this session some other time.” Although he suggested it kindly, deep down, he didn’t want their time to come to an end.

Emma looked at the falling night sky, adorned with a blanket of shining stars after days of rain, and nodded in agreement. She straightened her dress and rose from the cold bench. "I hope things improve for you. I'll check up on you tomorrow."

Jabbar smiled at Emma, gesturing for her to lead the way. "Thank you for being here with me. This really helps," he said gratefully.

"I'm glad we met," Emma replied with a smile. It was the first time she felt a pleasant warmth in the air, a contrast to the constant overwhelming pain and suffering.

As Emma waited for a cab, Jabbar found himself unable to look away from her. Eventually, he headed towards his building. Entering the elevator, Jabbar sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall. A smile spread across his face, a feeling he thought he had lost returning to his chest, allowing him to breathe peacefully once again.