Chapter 6

(Avan Jorgia, my idea of Jameel)

Jameel...

"Oh no, no, no he is coming." I thought as I heard the door to my prison open. I didn't know whether to be relieved or afraid. I'm so tired, and every square inch of my body hurt. I don't know if I could label myself as hungry because the pain in my throat and my stomach went far beyond the description of such a simple word. Master hasn't fed me in days, maybe weeks, I have lost track of time. I thought that he was finally going to leave me here to die.

I don't know what I did to displease him. After not seeing him for the few days, I started calling out to him even though he has severely warned me never to do that, but he never answered and I had no choice but to soil myself chained as I was to this bed. Not even Mahmood had come to grudgingly feed me and let me bathe at Master's request. It was like I was forgotten, something Master had constantly crowed about when he used me for whatever punishment he was doling out or lesson he was trying to teach me .

Now, he is back and I hope he was going feed me before punishing me for soiling myself. I don't think I could survive so much as a slap without at least a sip of water beforehand. I tried to moisten my mouth but nothing happened, my throat was bone dry and I wanted to cry from the pain burning there. It felt like I was trying to force down shards of broken glass.

Bright light flashed behind my closed eyelids and then I heard someone gasp, then there were steps hurrying in my direction. It couldn't have been Master and I couldn't find the strength to turn around to see who it was. In my weakened state, I couldn't even manage to curl myself up to protect myself if this person was going to start beating on me.

I heard two deep masculine voices speaking in a different language. I tried to pay attention to what they were saying, but I felt like my head was floating. I couldn't focus on anything and I just wanted to cry, but no tears would come. The men continued to talk urgently amongst themselves, and I just wanted something to drink. God, I would gladly take whatever they wanted to do to me as long as one of them gave me something to drink.

Ignoring the searing burn in the back of my mouth and my tongue that felt like cotton wool, I tried to make myself heard as I muttered, "mīn fāḍlīkā, mīn fāḍlīkā (please, please)..." My throat wouldn't let me get the rest of the words out, and I almost cried in relief when a gentle hand landed on my shoulder instead of a painful blow.

Focusing as much as I could, I listened to one of the men's deep velvet smooth voice bark out a rapid fire set of words that I now recognized the foreign language as English. I taught myself the language when Fatima used to sneak me books about the different places in the world. That was before Mahmood took over as Master's main servant. Then everything and anything that was pleasant in my life stopped and my punishments got even worse.

Two firm hands gently held onto my shoulders and helped me as I was rolled over. They strong and sure as they helped me to sit up as well. I lowered my head in shame because I was sure that this gentle stranger could smell my filth. I scooted a little further away from him. Even over my stench, I could make out the clean scent of his skin and the expensive cologne that clung to him. He smelt like heaven.

That deep voice rumbled a question at me and I had to concentrate on the words even though he was now speaking my native tongue. The man asked me my name, and I gathered myself again enough to answer him. He muttered a word I didn't understand and then suddenly I felt his big warm hands on my arm, first one against my wrist and then on the other and even on my ankles too. He was trying to get my leather bindings off and I felt a relief so great I almost tipped over onto the floor. I heard another set of foot steps as someone came running into the room and I cringed, praying it wasn't that despicable Mahmood trying to stop this kind man from helping me.

The other person spoke after the kind man said my name, and I recognized him as the other voice from earlier. I also heard the word water as keys jingled. Again I felt hands on my wrists but this time the tight leather cuffs fell away and I cried out as the sharp stab of pain throbbed all around the reddened area as the blood flow returned to my digits. It was the same for my feet, but I ignored it. I wanted to see my rescuers but more than that I desperately wanted the water they had. I even forgot to be cautious like Master trained me to be in the off chance that I was in the presence of strangers and against all of my Master's multiple warnings, I reached up to remove my niqab(veil) from my face.

Blinking rapidly, I impatiently waited until my eyes adjusted to the bright lights in the room. I always hated how bright the bulbs were in here. I know that Master purposely had them that way because he wanted me to feel like I had nowhere to hide while he had his way with me. I just kept hoping and praying that he wasn't about to come through that door before I could at least get a sip from the dewy water bottle being held in the big hand in front of my face. It was my sole focus at the moment.

The man who had introduced himself as Kamal opened the water and handed it to me. All praises to Allah, I leaned back and tipped the ice cold bottle in my mouth and the first gush of fluids cascaded over my parched tongue and the back of my equally desiccated throat but instead of sweet relief, my traumatized gullet clamped shut and the liquid trickled into the wrong pipe and I started choking and coughing.

A big hand slapped me in the middle of my back a couple of times and I had to grab onto the edge of the flimsy mattress in order not to fall face first onto the cold tiled floor. Kamal took the bottle out of my trembling fingers once I was breathing somewhat normally and he knelt down until he was eye level with me, and oh my sweet heavens. The man was absolutely breathtaking. I allowed my eyes to roam over his beautiful features before the shame of my thoughts and my actions washed over me.

Pushing those thoughts as far as they could go in the back of my mind, I took the much needed sips of water from bottle which was still being held firmly in the man's huge hand. Once I had enough water to feel satisfied, I scooted away from him. Oh Goodness, Master was right all along. I am a vile wicked creature that Allah has seen fit to punish. I felt my face burning with the shame of looking at this man in a sexual manner. Master had repeatedly beaten me to rid me of those feelings over the years while he rammed himself mercilessly in and out of my abused body. He had been determined to show me how painful the consequences of deviant thoughts could be.

There was another flurry of activity by the door and I dived for my niqab(veil) and tried to put it back on, but again that big hand appeared and stopped me from doing so. This time one man, older than the two in the room entered followed by two women traditionally dressed as I was, but their abaya(robe) and niqab(veil) were made of a lot finer material than the itchy fabric that my attire was made of. The older gentlemen was obviously related to these two gorgeous....I have to stop that. The men carried the older man's genetics for sure.

Kamal called the woman holding a black leather case over to me and I immediately tried to get up and run. Cases like those never boded well for me. Master used to pull all kinds of torture devices for my punishments out of cases similar to that one. Several pairs of hands pushed me back onto the filthy bed and again my shame knew no bounds, but I struggled anyway using what little fight I had left in my weakened state. Tears of hopelessness pooled in my eyes. I would die for sure if they decided to beat me or torture me. My body wasn't strong enough to deal with it and the futility of my situation had me crumbling into the abhorrent mattress and I pleaded with them hoping they would take pity on me, "mīn fāḍlīkā, mīn fāḍlīkā (please, please) no."

Everything and everyone in the room stopped moving including me when a soft but forceful feminine voice demanded that we all be quiet. The woman holding the case had moved away and everyone except Kamal moved away from me as the woman stepped forward. She turned to the older man and spoke to him in English, the older gentleman and the other man who I picked up his name was Farooq quietly left the room. I only caught that they were supposed go and talk to the servants gathered downstairs, and I couldn't help but to wonder why? I had so many things running through my head, it felt like it was going to explode.

I was studiously trying to ignore the man at my side telling myself over and over again that I was not a vile creature, that I didn't feel anything other than gratitude towards him for helping me. That I didn't get a fresh whiff of his cologne as he made room for the woman to kneel down and look me in the face. I was so shocked by her forward actions that I froze right where I lay and my mind went blessfully blank. A woman not related to man wouldn't look him in the eye, but this woman did and even with her niqab(veil) in place, I saw nothing but compassion in her beautiful hazel eyes and I was the one lowering my gaze as a lump of emotion formed in the back of my throat.

"As-salamu alaykum(Peace be onto you)." She greeted me and I just barely nodded my head at her. I feared speaking to her just in case her men took offense and decided to beat me after all.

I jumped when she gently ran a finger over the raw abrasions encircling my wrist. I quickly drew my hand back and hid it under my sleeve as I scooted even farther away from them. I didn't stop until my spine hit the wall behind me and I had nowhere else left to go. I was trapped and I knew it, so I tried my best to calm my racing heart as I peeked up from under the fringes of my hair at the two people left in my room.

Kamal supported the woman as she sat on the floor in front of my bed, the other woman was leaning against the far wall with her case in hand, and Kamal sat down next to the woman as she unwound her veil from her face. I gasped at her forwardness yet again and lowered my eyes, not before I noticed that the high cut of her cheekbones perfectly matched those of the man sitting next to her. She was just as stunning as he was but older so I am assuming she was his parent. There was something else in her features that was familiar to me but I couldn't place what it was. That was until she began talking to me, explaining who they were. It dawned on me that this woman eyes were the same exotic shade of brownish gold as my Master's eyes. That was were the similarities ended. Her gaze was kind, but Master's was always cold and filled with disgust whenever they landed on me.

I sat there in complete shock as she explained that she was Master's daughter, and that the man sitting next to her was her son, Kamal. The other young man with him her other son, Farooq and the woman with the case was her daughter Yasmin, who just graduated Medical school and she was here to see to my injuries. Then she answered the most pertinent question I had but was afraid to ask. I learned that my Master was dead. He had a heart attack over a week ago that's why he hasn't been here.

I immediately surmised that Mahmood most likely left me here to die. He never approved of me and thought that I used my evil beauty to seduce our Master into becoming a deviant sodomite. He used to spew those obscenities at me when Master was away from the house and I used to be scared to eat anything that he brought me just in case he did something to my food like he always threatened to.

I wonder what the house man was going to tell these good people about me when they questioned him and that's when I decided to answer her quietly asked questions. After a few more sips of water I began to tell my tale and the more I revealed was the paler they seemed to get. I stopped talking when Kamal barked that word I didn't understand again and he shot to his feet and purposefully stomped towards the door, but his mother called his name and told him to remain in the room for my comfort.

The woman was sharp, she must have read the distress clearly on my face when the other man went to leave me alone in the room with the women. It wasn't normal protocol, but I was quickly finding out that the El-Sayed family did not follow the normal rules at all when they were in private.

She was about to say something else when the older gentleman walked in, the man I presumed as her husband. I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my throat at his fierce facial expression. The man was practically vibrating with fury. He barked out orders and startled everyone in the room including me. The only thing I caught in his rapid fire words was the fact that I was not to remain another night under this accursed roof.

Before I could even blink, I found myself wrapped in a soft thick blanket and swept up as if weighed absolutely nothing by Kamal. He carried out of the four walled room that I have been trapped in for...I can't even recall how long I have been stuck in that room. I tried my best not to shame myself anymore than I already have by focusing on where we were going rather than the feel of that hard body pressed firmly against my swaddled one. I still felt his heat wrapped up as I was, and I swear I was getting dizzy from his intoxicating scent. It swirled around me like a security blanket.

Closing my eyes, I mentally shook myself away from those disturbing thoughts yet again. They were wrong, they were the thoughts the Devil was using to infect my soul. Master had been amandant about that one lesson. Having feelings for a man as you should only feel for a woman is a sin and Allah will cause you immeasurable pain. That I can attest to first hand because Master made sure to show me just how painful it is to try to consummate with a man what he should with a woman.

I turned my head away from Kamal as he gently loaded me into the backseat of a very pretty automobile. His father stopped long enough to lean in to tell me that they were taking me to their home and that I may shower and rest for as long as I want. That I was safe and under the protection of the El-Sayed family.

I bowed my head and quietly whispered, "shukran jazīlan(thank you.) I didn't know what else to say. I didn't have anyone to turn to or anywhere else to go and seek help. To his son, the elder El-Sayed informed Kamal that he was going to stay behind and deal the servants and that Kamal was to accompany me to their home and make sure I was properly cared for. The younger man gave his promise before sliding his tall frame into the vehicle and sat on the wide seat opposite of me.

Kamal's mother and his sister then slipped into the car beside Kamal and we were off. I closed my eyes and thanked Allah for this seemingly good fortune. I prayed that the El-Sayed's kindness will hold out until I could figure out what to do with myself. Master was gone and I am able to breathe freely once again for the first time in a very long time.

I felt the wave of absolute relief barreling through me and I quickly turned my face into the folds of my sleeve, and I quietly let all those pent up emotions, the pain, the humiliation, the degradation and the sheer exhaustion of my time at Master's mercy pour out of me like madly churning river. I purged him from my system and my life once and for all., thanks be to Allah.