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Fish Socks

Khadijah's Note

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There is hate and sorrow in my heart. I carry on by back the faces of those long gone that I cannot – or perhaps do not want to – be rid of. Here I write so that maybe I may find some sort of peace in this cruel world. This will be my confession, and may it release me from the burdens of my past so that I may tread confidently into my future. May He illuminate His divine mercy unto me, and give me the strength to pen these words. 

I was born 25 years ago in Zargabad, Takistan. I was betrothed to my cousin, Omeed, at the age of five. We did not marry until I was 14. He was twelve years my elder, but treated me fairly and provided what small amount we did have. He was passionate as well, toward Allah and his Prophet, but also toward politics. Omeed had fought a hard war many years before we were married and was protected by the divine, for if not he would have surely perished long before I was born. Even after he had lost the war, he went underground to fight his battles, meeting in secret with his brothers in arms. It was a dangerous thing to do, but at the time I took no notice. I had other obligations. Running a small clothing shop out of my house, and on weekends - at the market, was my job. It was a trade I had been taught by my own mother, and often consisted of mending local women's burqas and hijabs. The customers I did have were fiercely loyal and came only to me. It was modest, and kept me busy.

My world completely changed at the age of 17 when my first son, Hamid, was born. His brother, Hashem followed a little over a year later. My life revolved around my children. It does still. Everything I have done, I have done for them. If I am not able to enter into the gardens of Paradise for my actions in this life, perhaps they have been given the opportunity in my stead. As much as Hamid and Hashem meant to me, it still yet paled in comparison to the love I felt toward my youngest. Pashtana was born in 2011, and from her birth, she was mine. Omeed was a good father to all of our children, but he was to groom the boys for their future as men. Pashtana was mine to dress and to pamper. To show off to all of the women in Zargabad. I attended to her at all hours of the day, and she never left my sight. Perhaps I believed she would become a woman that I never could. 

A year later my husband sacrificed everything that was dear to him for his cause. He participated in the raid of a nearby oil field with his former Royalist soldiers, crippling the Socialist Takistani government in power. The Socialist Supreme Bureau was furious, and the lives of the remaining Royalists and their families were in more danger then ever. I heard whispers on the streets of the horrors committed against those who had been discovered. I no longer slept at night. I held my children close for fear of being taken in the night. Omeed attempted to dry my tears with no avail. His actions had threatened the lives of our children. The was no redemption for him, but perhaps there was for my children and I.

I slit his throat in the night. By sunrise I had delivered his head to a government building. He did not deserve this death he was given, but my children and I did not deserve to die for his actions. It saddens me, but I will not regret it. Astaghfirullah. I was rewarded for my deed, and it was not long before I married again. My new husband, Abdul-Karim, held a fairly prominent position in the SSB. He was more violent then Omeed had ever been, but we found ourselves nicely situated in Takmyr and the bruises were easily covered by my niqab. I tried to give him children to no avail, but he embraced my own boys.

Takistan was barely being held together. The country was in chaos even before the Plague. My sons were taken from me by Royalists while returning from school and held captive. Their nâpedari and I used everything at our disposal to have them returned, but both were executed within the month. I died that day. There still remains a hole in my heart that is ever-present and can never be healed. As much as I tried, I could not protect the children that I bore. The only thing that keeps me alive today is my daughter.

The world before the Plague was hell, and it remains hell. When we heard about the strange sickness in Chernarus, we took little heed. Why should I care about the issues in another country when my own sons were killed in this one? When we fight to maintain stability in our own? It came suddenly. When I looked out my window to see people devouring others, I cannot deny a grim satisfaction. The people of this country had been fighting, killing all of my life. What difference what this now? These people had been infected long, long ago. The Plague had only brought their hate and their violence that consumed them to the surface. I did as I always had, and protected my daughter. Abdul-Karim's connections with the SSB kept us safe for a time. Other officials and ourselves were kept under military protection, allowing us to survive the initial outbreak, and evacuate Takmyr to a safer area. Months passed, radio connections were lost, others began to give up hope. Still semi-organized it was decided that parties should be sent to investigate the state of nearby countries and to perhaps regain lost communications.

This is why I am here in Chernarus. Scouting ahead of my party in South Zagoria. For the future of my daughter and my country. She still remains there, and each day I miss her more. Someday soon, masha Allah, I will return to her. 

Khadijah bint Al-Aswar


Allah does not charge a soul except [with that within] its capacity. It will have [the consequence of] what [good] it has gained, and it will bear [the consequence of] what [evil] it has earned. "Our Lord, do not impose blame upon us if we have forgotten or erred. Our Lord, and lay not upon us a burden like that which You laid upon those before us. Our Lord, and burden us not with that which we have no ability to bear. And pardon us; and forgive us; and have mercy upon us. You are our protector, so give us victory over the disbelieving people.

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Beautiful Ms. Anne! Hope to see more.

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Thank you guys! I always appreciate the feedback. I'm a bit unsure at this moment if I will continue journal or something with Khadijah, as this is just a backstory.

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