"a voice doesn't need to shout
a hand doesn't need to touch
a cry doesn't need to be shown
a heart doesn't need to be hurt
a life doesn't need to be killed
for people to recognise
the truth - afra."

Afra held her comforter tight around her stomach. Her eyes wide open, she kept absently staring at the ceiling.

Sulaaymaan's words and voice were faintly audible to her at around two fifteen in the morning.

However, he was asleep. Not soundly thought. Every minute or so, he mumbled something groggily and she would hush him down by patting his head.

At one point she made out what he had said rather clearly. Her heart squeezed with affliction and bitterness.  Softly but rapidly he had  uttered a string of apologies directed to his cousin, Yusra.

It had become so difficult to control her tears as he shook his head forcefully from side to side that a few of them fell directly onto his face.

She had panicked feeling that he might jerk awake from his sleep but it only calmed him down fairly well as he relaxed and returned back to snoring a little. 

She hastily blew her nose and wiped the tears. Sitting up and letting her legs down, she peeked from over her shoulder and smiled hurtfully.

She pushed her feet into the slippers and dragged herself towards the work table at the corner of the room.

Comfortably settling into the chair, she switched the PC on and waited for it to boot up. When it did come to life she hurriedly began to type down her search inquiry only to have curled her fingers away from the keyboard with doubt.

"I don't know... what to type."

She scoffed and started to bite her lower lip in an attempt to think on how to begin her search.

Following through the information Sulaaymaan had given her, all she could recall — although he had not mentioned it — was his father's name.

King Aa'raaf.

If so much of havoc and turmoil had occured at that time, there definitely must have been the involvement of media and paparazzi which inturn could've shed light over the matter a lot more.

Sucking in a gulp of air, she sat straighter in her seat and with shaky fingers began to spell the words.

She secured a lock of her hair behind her ear and pushed her neck closer to the screen inorder to scrutinize each result detailedly.

So many were displayed though, that she didn't really know which one to trust. Finding no option left, she ended up clicking on the first ever article by Arab News.

A dark green background popped up wherein the whole article lay displayed within bright white shade.

She squinted her eyes and the tiny words became a lot clearer from where she sat.

It dated back to August of twenty twelve.

17th August, 2012

A rather peculiar case had occured in the Al Mohaiwis compound the last night. So much disturbance had been caused by it that around three neighbours had filed complaints several times in a few hours.

It has been reported that around four to five in the morning they had heard the defeaning sound of gunshots.

Upon investigating, light has been shed and some dark secrets had come out into the open.

Mr Yousuf, the brother of Queen Basmah, had been found dead in his house. Two bullets to his head and three to his chest.

An in-depth analysis revealed quite unbelievable answers. Apparently, Yousuf had been going to the police for help against the abuse his sister had been the victim of for years together.

Afra gasped, almost slipping off of the chair. Queen Basmah had been the victim of abuse and so her brother — Yousuf — had been helping her out?

She turned around in her chair and sighed with relief to find Sulaaymaan fast asleep comfortably. Unaware, she had gasped loud enough to have woken the whole mansion up.

Her eyes locked onto the picture that had been inserted in.

Tears blurred her vision as the man Yousuf was shown in it. Blinking, she smiled with quivering lips at how similar he was in looks with the Queen.

What the Queen must've felt when she saw this piece of news flash throughout the world?

A brother who had been trying hard to protect her had been murdered by her husband.

She slapped a palm to her mouth to keep the sound of her sobbing in. This was what Sulaaymaan had missed while narrating the tragic tale. This was something he hid purposefully or just to not inflict her with too much information at once.

People like Sulaaymaan, the Queen and Yousuf were the true heroes. The ones who fought the severe battles of life and yet managed to blossom in others lives as the beautifying spring.

Afra had never ever seen the Queen lose the shine in her smile.

She had never seen Sulaaymaan return the glare that she directed at him.

Running a hand through her hair, she wiped the tears from under her eyes and lashes.

All the evidence that had been gathered pointed arrows at the king. There was no doubt that he had committed the crime.

However the events that followed next left the nation in an uproar of protests and disagreement.

The king had been released following the burial of Mr Yousuf on the 19th of August.

She scrolled down to find herself studying the agreement that had been signed by the King and the court.

All was written in pure Arabic. She groaned, resisting her frustration to throw the mouse under her palm against the wall.

Shutting her eyes for a split second, she took in deep breaths to calm down.

It was not shocking, neither was it a surprise. Yet — nevertheless of the fact — she had hoped to find a suitable, more sensible judgement.

After a couple of minutes, she had the nerve of looking at the screen furthermore. As she scrolled down, she figured there was a picture of the King.

Sulaaymaan's father.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Before her eyes, lay a man who looked much older and vicious, but definitely very similar to Sulaaymaan.

She took her time in looking at him properly.

A clean shaven jaw, thick nose and tiny eyes that held the capability to weaken anyone instantly. Although she was just looking at his picture, she could sense something terribly off about him. It was as if she was being inspected closely by those eyes.

Whether it was the menacing gaze or the grim smile, she couldn't say for sure about the rest.

In all senses, he was just how Sulaaymaan described him.

Shaking her head, she sighed and pinched her temples.

The time on the computer screen read five minutes past three.

Tired and feeling her eyes burn, she shut down the PC and got off the chair.

She had just about taken a step towards the bed when a meek knock over the door made her jump in place and shriek.

"Silk.....it's me, Jazz."

Afra stood there breathing hard. She held a hand against her chest and took jumpy steps towards the door. It was only Jazz.

She swung it open to find herself peering into the teary eyes of a seven year old, a little pony stuck against her chest.

Sulaaymaan had peeked with an open  eye to find Afra's back to him. Sighing with relief he lifted his head a little to see that she was escorting a terrified Jazz in the room.

When she turned around to check up on him, he immediately shut his eyes and played as if he were deeply asleep. A few minutes later, he had opened his eyes fully when he felt the bed duck deeper with  pressure to find her adjusting to a comfortable position with Jazz in her lap.

He smiled sneakily. So many good things had happened to him after an incredibly long time. Unlike what he had assumed, Afra didn't create a ruckus on who was to sleep on the bed and the couch. Instead she surprised him by giving him some medication and helping him on the bed. With a big smile, she had bid him goodnight and secured the comforter till his chin.

Sometime later, he had jerked in his position after a nightmare. During that time, he hadn't opened his eyes but he could feel her hover over him with her hand patting down his hair while whispering hushes.

Simple things like those were all he needed. Someone who could protect him. Who could take care of him when he neglected his health. Who would keep check on his necessities. Who could care for his family. Who could love in general.

Regardless of those sweet memories of the last hour that he was reliving, he felt his heart prickle with worry over Jazz' condition.

Jazz was naturally more inclined towards him and for some very odd reason, a little disputed towards Afra as a person. She needed him but he couldn't just sit up wide awake in bed.

While he didn't know the reason, it still didn't tick him off much. Children had a weird psychology and some of them — like Jazz who've been victims of domestic violence — tend to develop trust issues.

He had been crammed on one side for a long time. Grabbing ahold of Afra's full focus on Jazz, he swiftly turned to the other side from where she could only see his back.

Which inturn meant he could have his eyes open to sneak peeks at them occasionally.

He wasn't a heavy sleeper. Every little noise or movement could awaken him within a second. While asleep too, he never really tasted much peace in it. Either he would go through his teenage years until the major incidents occurred or sometimes it was subjected to a single person.

Majority of them would be filled with Yusra's memories while the others held a vast number of people who had died while protecting him or who had been dear family members.

It had so happened that he had already been fighting through a nightmare. Incidentally, Afra had gasped from across him and he had neatly shot upright on the bed.

When his eyes had fallen over Afra huddled over a chair near the computer, he had relaxed and just laid back down with his eyes closed.

"Jazz, Habibti, are you alright? What happened?"

Presently, he glanced from over his shoulder to find Afra patting her hair lovingly.

As anticipated, Jazz remained utterly silent.

"Hey, it's alright. Don't tell me, no problem at all."

Afra chirped.

"But you know what? I will give you something that will make you happy."

She added and Sulaaymaan just couldn't suppress his smile. How could anyone be so cute?

A moment later, Jazz let out a squeal.

"Rock chocolate!"

Afra laughed lightly.

"Yes Habibti! That's right. How do you know these?"

She asked and Sulaaymaan himself frowned with confusion.

"My friend once gaze these to me when she had returned from Jeddah."

"Oh that's lovely. My dad had got them when he had gone to Jeddah  too."

He heard them unwrap the chocolates and savour them together by Afra initiating some odd noises and Jazz joining in after a few minutes.

After a couple of more horrible sounds that made Sulaaymaan giggle so much that he almost gave himself off, they finally ended by laughing loudly.

"How do you feel now Habibti?"

Afra asked and Sulaaymaan pursed his lips together. Jazz wouldn't want to leave even if she felt better. How would Afra handle that?

"Can I sleep here?"

Jazz mumbled.

"Here? With me?"

Afra gasped.

Jazz hummed a response.

"Oh, that'd be so great!"

She shrieked clapping her hands together so loudly that Sulaaymaan had to keep a cheeky smile from crawling onto his lips.

"I had a bad dream."

Jazz said, her voice barely over a whisper.

Sulaaymaan's heart hurt with so much pain and disgust that he had to curl his hands in order to hear the rest of the story from Jazz'. If not, he didn't know how else he could get though the situation while hardly being able to move.

"Aw, I'm so sorry. Why did you have a bad dream?"

"I don't know. I have them most of the times. There's a scary looking man always and I feel so frightened by him."

She burst into tears with Afra letting out a gasp of shock. Within a moment, she had lifted Jazz in her arms and was walking up and down by the bedside in an attempt to calm the little soul.

"My baby. It's alright. Shhh. I'm here okay? Everything is going to be fine."

Sulaaymaan turned his head cautiously to find Afra rock Jazz back and forth in her arms.

He turned back around, letting a tear slip down to the pillow. A content smile rested over his face and heart. A relief lessened his fright.

For a woman had changed his life.

« Assalaamualaikum Princesses ❤.

Btw, we don't have a Prince here do we? ;-).

Anyhoo, I hope the chapter was okay.❤❤❤

Only you guys can tolerate me and my book. I love you alllll soooo much. ❤❤❤

I also wanted to quickly let you all know about my new book ,"The diary of a million broken pieces". That book is a piece of my heart. It's a book that I really wanted to put out there. It's a real story, the story of Someone I respect and admire greatly.

Please do show your support to it as well. I promise in Shaa ALLAH, although it's not a typical romantic novel, it won't disappoint you. By the end of it, you'll leave with something unreal and unique.

❤❤❤

I sincerely hope you'll all be kind as always and help me out. 

Much much love,
Me ;) »