Chapter Two: After the Return… Death Was Waiting
302 Words
Huda returned with a heart heavy with longing.
She thought her homeland would open its arms,
That her father would kiss her forehead as he used to when she was a child,
That her mother’s eyes — though buried beneath the earth — would still watch over her.
But the moment she stepped onto the soil of her village… she heard the whispers.
Whispers like blades.
Laughter cracked behind doors.
Familiar faces—no longer familiar.
“They say she ran away with a stranger.”
“She came back now? With what face?”
“Her father? He’ll never forgive… This is family honor.”
There was no court in the village.
No truth.
Just tongues sharp as daggers…
And a father’s heart too quick to believe.
That night, when the alleys quieted and stories fell asleep,
She stepped into her home like a stranger.
She knocked on her own door.
He opened it.
Looked into her eyes… and didn’t see his daughter.
He saw shame.
She cried:
“I’m your daughter… I swear, I did nothing. Ask me, believe me!”
But the pain in his chest was blind.
And the shame in his mind was deaf.
He couldn’t bear to look at her.
He didn’t give her a chance.
He struck her—not once, but over and over.
Until her lips fell silent.
Until the light in her eyes dimmed.
Every time she fell before him,
He didn’t see her collapsing in pain…
He saw himself falling in disgrace.
He forgot she was his child.
Forgot she once dreamed of laying her head on his chest, just to cry.
And by dawn the next day…
Her body lay still. Cold.
Wrapped in her old scarf.
While the village prepared for Friday prayer…
As if nothing had ever happened.
- Writer
