What would it take to have the power of making my own decisions?
I mindlessly scramble around with the rice on my plate as my brothers and father continued to discuss property rates over the lunch table.
What would it take to have a say in this life, that seemed to be everyone else's but mine?
A bigger picture. The Greater Good.
I couldn't help but think that there was more to my life than what my family had in mind for me.
"How are your studies going?" The focus of the conversation finally shifted from their business to my humiliation.
"It's fine," I replied quietly, sitting up straighter and actually focusing on the food in front of me.
"We will know once the results come out." My mother added, savagely. I remained quiet and took a bite of the beans and rice that had now turned medium cold. "Just get enough marks to qualify for medical college. Nice suitors come with proposals for girls who are in pre medical field."
You can count on my family to turn my passion into something I despise.
"A group of Malaysian embassy officials visited our college today," I tried to speak up. "They briefed us on how to get an admission into their universities and their fees is also considerably lower than that of the UK. Do you think I could apply?"
"You mean study abroad?" My mother said incredulously, while my elder brother, Umar snorted not even bothering to look at me.
"Absolutely not," the younger brother, Hassan, who was older than me by 3 years, answered sternly.
"I was asking my parents, not you."
"Really?" My father raises his voice at me. My brothers don't even have to say anything to win an argument against me, since mama and baba always come to their rescue.
"You dare speak to your brother like that?" My mother says angrily. "This is all your fault." She turns to my father. "If you hadn't spoiled her, we wouldn't be seeing this day."
Spoiled her? I wanted to laugh loudly at this nonsense, but like always I kept quiet. They have made an image around their peers and circle that their daughters are loved and spoiled like princesses but this couldn't be further away from the truth. It is just an illusion we are grown up with, so that when the time comes we can pay the price with our freedom.
Tears brim at my eyes making vision blurry, but I try my best to keep them in, as seeing me crying will only result in more backlash. The only sibling smaller than me, my sister Safa places her little hand on my knee and passes me her glass of water, giving me a silent smile.
I placed a hand behind her head and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She's the only person that matters to me in this house and the only one I will choose to remember when I leave.
***
Flying high into the clouds, I relish in the moment of true freedom before doom is announced. Soaring even higher into the sky, I pass by revolving planets and glistening stars, some close enough to touch, others so far that I could be watching them from earth, except my feet are nowhere near the ground. I admire the universe in all its magnificence, before I'm enveloped by a golden light so bright that I have the urge to close my eyes. When I open them again, I'm in another dimension and not alone anymore. Three individuals accompany me now and link hands together before turning our gazes towards the words strewn across the space before us. Words we're all too familiar with.
"A bigger picture."
"A higher purpose.'
'The greater good.'
The nights still young and the questions still fresh inside my head. Questions he promised answers for, my head chimes in. I rake a hand through my hair, an attempt to calm my frazzled state. I look at Safa sleeping peacefully in the bed besides me, her short hair lying in wisps across her face. The moonlight streams through the window, bathing her pale skin in a warm glow. What do I have to lose besides her, if I leave? Parents who never really asked for me and now that they have me, treat me nothing more than a burden they can't wait to dispose of? A place where my thoughts and opinions are constantly shoved aside, because they don't really matter? Brothers who can get away with anything they want, and treat me however they please but I can't fight back because they are mom and dad's favourite and will only result in more backlash? Fighting for my voice to be heard is futile. They don't have to put bars on the windows anymore; they have been imprinted on my mind. You don't need to imprison a person's body once their soul has been captured.
Yet, here he was promising freedom.
I would take her with me if I could, but she is too young to understand. She has yet to realize the bitter truth of the people we call our own. Even after all the things I've endured at their hands, I find it hard to hate my family. Maybe I hate them, but I also know that I love them endlessly. I tie back the upper half of my hair and put on my cloak. My outfit is concealing enough, though it may or may not matter, as very few women will be out at this hour of the night. I walk over to Safa and place a kiss on her damp forehead. When I pull back, I find her staring at me with those hazel eyes of her, with a calm smile on her lips. "Don't worry, apa," she said, recognizing the worry on my face. "It's for the greater good, isn't it?"
I wrapped her into my arms, inhaled her scent, trying to get the most out of this last intimate moment we have together. "I love you, Safa," I said, through tears. "I love you, too, apa" she whispered in my ear. She held the rope as I tied its end into a knot on the latch of the window. I threw its other end down, the string that will form the means of my escape. Carefully, I climb onto the edge, my heart thrumming so wildly, I hear the blood rushing in my ears, as I realize I'm sitting on the brink of freedom. Wringing my hands around the rope, I place my feet on the wall, trying my best not to look down. Left foot, right hand, right foot, left hand, syncing the movements of my limbs in this alternating pattern, my feet finally touch the ground. I tug at the rope, a signal for Safa to untie its end. Within a few moments, it falls in my hands in a coiled heap. Wounding it in a manner, so that it becomes much more convenient to carry, I conceal it within my cloak. The only weapon I hold against the big, bad world my mom warned me about during my younger years.
The world I'm now ready and set to change.