The strength I showed was something I never would’ve believed I would ever possess. Never did I think it could come out of me one day. My whole life was full of ups and downs. I grew up in a beautiful home, full of love, sheltered from the evils of the world. It was all good until the day I lost my grandfather.
That was one of the most significant changing points in my life; it turned me into a completely different person. I wasn’t that cheerful little girl anymore; I suffered from depression and anxiety. Since his death, both had become my very best friends.
My grandmother was my only salvation and haven. Her hugs were my comfort zone, and her voice was my calming music. I’d always known that my love for my parents was not the same as the love I felt my grandparents. It didn’t mean I loved them any less. It’s just that my grandparents’ love was very special.
My grandmother showed me the world, but it was a closed one. She was too scared of losing me, too focused on keeping me alive, even if it meant that I would be protected from the realities of life. Nothing mattered in her eyes as long as I was okay and breathing.
My parents were busy, always too busy; but our interactions – although not as many as it should have been – were full of laughter and good times. They taught me valuable life lessons but didn’t show me how to overcome difficulties, or how to deal when something got complicated.
My grandmother didn’t teach me that either.
When my parents died, I lost my grandmother as well. She didn’t recognize me anymore. In one dark day, I found myself all alone in a big world. A much, much bigger world than what I’d thought it was.
I felt naked on a windy and rainy day. I felt like my feet were bare while walking on a ground full of thorns.
Joseph was the only one I had left, he was my only family, and my only friend. We’d held each other up for one main purpose: we refused to let our parents’ company fail.
During that time, I functioned like a robot. I kept my feelings checked. I studied. Hard. I knew all of the ways to keep Archer Enterprises on top, and I used them. I fought to be respected. I fought to be heard. I fought for our company, and I succeeded. I was so proud of myself.
In daylight, I was a valiant tiger. I was fearless and demanded perfection from my employees. I didn’t give them a chance not to take me seriously despite my age and my and inexperience.
When I was by myself, I let my guard down.
At night, I was a frightened kitten. I hugged my pillow and cried myself to sleep. Sorrow and sadness were my only companions while my brother worked overseas for the sake of our business.
I was an empty shell.
When Joseph pretty much kidnapped me, my world crashed. I fought. I fought with a loud voice and screams. I cried out. I cursed. I rejected. I even threw a tantrum like a small kid denied of her candies.
It was only when I opened up to Mazen that my life started to blossom. It was only when I let him in that I began to feel alive. It was only when I fell for him that my life had a meaning.
Love made me grow.
My parents and my grandparents loved me endlessly, but Mazen loved me for eternity and a day. It was a different kind of love, but it was the one kind of love that I needed to become the person I was today.
My family and all of the people in my life couldn’t teach me one percent of what Mazen had.
He taught me through his kindness; he taught me by letting me see the beauty of his soul. He showed me my strength, made me push my limits while hugging me tightly, not satisfied with only holding my hand through it.
Mazen became my safety and comfort only a few days after we met, long before I realized I was in love with him.
Lying there in that dark room, cold and starving, humiliated and hurt, I stayed strong. I didn’t say one word, and I didn’t shed one tear in front of my enemies. I didn’t scream. I didn’t beg. Most importantly, I stayed calm.
It was Mazen’s love that made me strong.
I was in a situation a million times worse than what my brother had put me in two years ago, but I stayed composed and refused to show weakness. That wouldn’t help me at all.
Maybe I was a new person, but the scared girl inside me stayed alive all that time. She was quiet but was also desperate to speak up – loudly. I didn’t give the oncoming panic attack the chance to consume me. I controlled it, but anxiety was one determined enemy that wouldn’t let go.
I took my time thinking about everything I was going through. Heck, thinking was all I could do. Thinking and waiting.
My strong faith and firm belief that Mazen must be very close to finding me was the only reason I refused to believe this would be my end. But the troubled girl inside me kept whispering – what if I was wrong? What would that mean?
There was an epic battle between hope and fear waging inside me, but calmness masked my despair. I hoped that fear wouldn’t win.
The young woman brought a tray of food and put it beside me. She didn’t say anything, only gave me a dirty look as she left again.
I didn’t hear the click of a lock, only the sound of the door closing and her steps as she walked away. I knew that she would have locked the door if it were possible for me to escape.
The smell of cheese on the tray filled my lungs. I didn’t realize that cheese, in general, had such a strong smell, but I guessed it might be because I was too hungry.
Looking at the food made me salivate. My body was trying in every way to convince me to eat, but starving myself seemed like the safer choice. I didn’t need to test if they poisoned the food to kill my baby and me.
The fact that I couldn’t tell the time was very annoying. I couldn’t even count the hours since the last time my baby moved in my belly. It was scary to think that it had been more than one day.
I dozed on and off, though the cold along with hunger and fear made sleep impossible.
Something told me that if I knew exactly how long I had been here, I would start panicking. It wasn’t longer than a day, right? I hoped.
It wasn’t only tiredness that I was feeling now. I was weak and ill. It wasn’t even that difficult anymore to bear the pain of hunger. I was beyond that.
I knew I might be hurting my baby by not eating, but I’d heard that an unborn child would take all it needs from the mother even if it cost her her own life. I didn’t mind, that would be okay.
It was still too scary, but starving seemed like my best option until I found my way out of here.
The only benefit I gained from my starvation was that I was too tired to think about anything else except my baby. All my thoughts were only about Adam. I’d only counted three faint movements from him since I was brought here. That was all. I kept telling myself that it was the lack of food. It had to be. He needed to be okay; I wasn’t going to accept any other option.
Approaching footsteps had me on alert, but I didn’t have the strength to sit up. I continued lying down, using my arm as a pillow, not caring who’d come in the room or what they may do as long as my baby stayed safe.
The young woman who brought me food made her way into the room, followed by another woman I hadn’t seen in here before. The latter was carrying another tray, which she placed near my head on the floor. There was a curious look in her eyes as she looked at my face and body.
Her look wasn’t the same hateful one that the others had given me. She looked at me as if she was examining something. It creeped me out.
To be honest, I would’ve preferred it had she given me a dirty look and gone on her way.
“Are we going to stay here all day long?” the young woman asked impatiently, as the other knelt in front of where I was lying and took her time studying me. I didn’t know who she was, but I sensed that I had seen here before.
“Shut up, Etab,” she responded. “Take the other tray and leave.”
The young woman only huffed, took the untouched tray of food and did precisely as she was told.
The familiar-looking stranger looked carefully at my skin. I was very irritated by her closeness and her presence, but when her eyes drifted to my stomach – I became defensive.
She reached out to touch my baby bump. I don’t know where I found the strength, but I sat up and knocked her hand away immediately.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said in English. I was so invested in trying to figure out her intentions that I didn’t flinch when she reached out to touch me again. By the time I realized it, she had touched my right hand where my wedding band was, seeing that it was now loose on my finger.
“You need food in your system, and most importantly, water. You’re on the edge of dehydration, Marie.” I was taken aback by the genuine worry in her voice, and the fact that she said my name so easily as if we were long lost friends. “That’s not good for the baby.”
I gulped. Why did she care what was good or not good for the baby? Don’t they all want me dead? But then I thought about the truth of her words. I was hurting my baby. That made my stomach turn.
The woman with the face I was positive I had seen before but was not sure where, grabbed the bottle of water from the tray, then offered it to me. “You need to drink.” She nodded in encouragement.
I stared, trying to figure her out. God knows how thirsty I was. My mouth was dry as a desert, but I was still too afraid that it would harm my baby if I ate their food or drank their water – who knew if they might have spiked it?
“I know you think the water could be poisoned,” she said as if she knew of my inner dilemma, “but trust me, she would’ve killed you in many other ways by now if she wanted you dead.”
I knew she was talking about the older woman with the familiar voice who paid Mo’taz to kidnap me.
“Or – don’t trust me,” the woman said, “but at least listen to common sense.”
She was right; her words were reasonable; the older woman could’ve killed me shortly after capturing me. It followed that she didn’t want me dead. Yet.
If that woman told her cohorts she wanted me dead – why was she keeping me alive?
Before I could wonder more about that, the woman in front of me spoke again. “Would it convince you if I took a sip or two from the bottle?” she asked in a kind voice.
The offer was so tempting; surely she wouldn’t hurt herself and drink from water that she knew was poisoned, would she?
The woman didn’t wait for an answer. She unscrewed the lid, and I watched her take a couple of gulps. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with a few pats with the tips of her fingers and offered it to me again.
With no hesitation, I took it with my cuffed hands and pretty much poured it down my throat. I couldn’t believe how eager I was to empty it in my mouth.
“Easy, easy, you’ll make yourself sick,” the woman said, taking the bottle from me so suddenly that I almost cried like a baby and demanded it back.
A sharp pain rested in the middle of my chest. I knew it was from drinking so much water at once. I almost wished I wasn’t that frantic as I sipped on the water. Almost.
“Would you try some food now?” she asked again with a small smile, and I started thinking again – what if the whole water thing was a game so I would trust her, and the poison was in the food?
Before I could do anything, the woman took a bite of everything, making sure that I was watching her as she did. She then washed it down with more water, as if to make me feel positive that she had swallowed it all.
I didn’t need more convincing.
“Eat now, Marie. I’ll bring you clean clothes tomorrow.”
I kicked myself for wanting to thank her. She wasn’t my friend.
My first smile since Mo’taz had brought me here was when I felt Adam moving. I cried silent, happy tears as I enjoyed the slight movement that followed my first meal in what seemed like ages.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” My tears fell as I whispered, hugging my baby bump awkwardly with my hands cuffed. “We’ll be okay. Daddy won’t leave us here for too long. He won’t. He will find us,” I said to my unborn child, the words more for me than for him. I needed to hear them; I needed my voice to be louder than my thoughts. I needed to keep the faith.
“Take care of yourself and our baby until I come back and take care of you, again. Okay, princess?” Mazen’s words rang in my ears; they had been repeating themselves over and over in my head.
It was the last thing he’d said to me. He was so upset about having to leave. If he didn’t have to leave, this wouldn’t have happened.
Then again, I didn’t know. Maybe if Mazen stayed, they would have killed him. Who knew what these people wanted?
My heart ached as I thought of how he must be worried sick about us. I wished I could tell him not to worry, that we would all be together soon, but I knew that might not happen.
Pushing those doubts away, I tried to concentrate on the woman who’d fed me. I never forgot a face, and I was sure I’d seen her before, but all of my efforts to connect her face to a place or a memory were fruitless.
Why was she kind to me? Why did she care what I ate? And why would she bring me fresh clothes? If she could be that kind – why not let me go?
I figured the older woman must have some sort of power over her; she sounded intimidating when I heard her speaking with Mo’taz.
Whoever they were, I knew they would be out of my way soon. All I could do now was pray. I did it very well.
Holding the cross that my angel had given to me, I prayed. I found companionship in the faint sound of the ocean that was probably not so far from where I was or was that wind? Or – did I imagine it all? I didn’t know. I wiped my tears, lay down, then smiled one more time as I felt Adam move.
It wasn’t a strong move, but I was grateful.
Closing my eyes, I hoped that I could fall asleep better now that my stomach was full, in spite of the hard floor under my body and head.
It was ironic – never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that the day would come where I made sleeping on a rough floor work for me. I always chose the most comfortable pillow and most expensive sheets. I always spent a fortune on mattresses and bedding, for most of my weekends was spent in bed, the only place where I could relax for real.
Well, aside from a hot bath.
Oh, how I craved a hot tub right now. To be honest, I would settle for a wet washcloth, but it didn’t look like that was even an option.
I had always been grateful for my blessings, and I had appreciated the fact that I’d never wanted for anything I couldn’t have. So, I didn’t understand why I was going through this punishment.
It seemed like the more I let myself wonder, the more doubt found a place in my heart.
The only safe zone for me was to think about my beautiful memories with Mazen. All my memories with Mazen were beautiful. Even during the hard times, we stole sweet moments together, and that made us what we were now.
Mazen’s voice was so alive in my head, that for a second I thought I was really hearing him, and not just in my thoughts.
A moment later, I realized that the voice was real. It was real. Mazen was outside.
“Mazen!” I gasped.