*NOTE: Mature language and content ahead. Please proceed with caution.*

Through the slight cracked wood of her parents' bedroom door, she could see her Amma's round brown eyes ignite with an invincible sheen of precipitation. The transparent coat held longing, excitement of the unknown, and fear of what was yet to come. But as Firdaus peeked from the side of the door and on the tips of her small toes, her long hair fell to the side, creating a silky muslin curtain of hand spun gold. Her own jade and honey eyes dawned on the way her mother looked away from the broken mirror mounted on one wall of the room with peeling wallpaper that reeked of smashed cigarettes.

Souls had burned in the house along with the countless Pall Mall cigarettes with a slow release, a smooth taste, and longevity that lasted for the minutes of a serene flare.

The missing glass fragments of the mirror had fallen to the floor as the tears had glossed out of their eyes and onto the ground that buried the sinners and believers alike.

Life was an illusion. And it didn't stop for anyone.

Firdaus's tiny fingers had clutched the door's edge as she'd peered inside to find her Amma drop her flattened palms against her lower abdomen. Her knuckles were porcelain white, a small breath stuttering its way out as the white gold of her wedding band shined pristinely.

She could not help but revel in her mother's broken beauty. She was a black swan that had a heart full of purity, a warrior that wore her scars for a smile.

Her Amma's eyes lowered as a small smile slivered through her chapped lips. It must've hurt to smile even just a bit with the bruise that covered the side of her face. It had grown overnight to turn purple and blotchy. Her father had delivered the blow late last night under the canopy of the monsoon rain when he'd found his food had turned cold.

Firdaus covered her small ruby lips with the back of her hand as crystal droplets of water fell down her mother's red apple cheeks to paint a wider smile across her face. It was as if a pearl had sunk in the ocean. Her Amma's frail shoulders shook with dignified poise as her hands clutched the thin fabric of her kurta.

Firdaus remembered the words her mother had spoken to something that was unknown to her that night as clear as the moonlit sky.

"Amma will never let anything happen to you my baby. I will not be weak like I was the past two times. I will not let anyone- not even him hurt you." Muskaan had furiously wiped away the tears, patting down where her sweaty palms had wrinkled the fabric of her kurta underneath.

She'd wiped the hollows under her eyes with the back of her hands when they had suddenly fallen on her baby girl's shining ones. Their eyes mirrored each others, both scalded with the heat of the burning tears.

"Firdaus?" her Amma's raspy whisper shook Firdaus out of her trance, a deer caught in the headlights,

a doe lost in her path to sanctuary.

"Huh!" Firdaus gasped, falling back on her feet as her tiny hands turned to iced ceramic.

The strands that had slipped her mother's bun framed her heart-shaped face as she gazed at her daughter with anticipating eyes. Muskaan suddenly smiled, wincing at the pain that throbbed on the left side of her lips and at the sharp curve of her carved jawline. But she ignored it, because in that moment no pain could define the happiness that the news of her pregnancy had overtaken her every thought.

And to see her baby girl in front of her wiped away all the world's fears

just like that.

"Come here," Muskaan had held a thin and long arm out towards Firdaus as she gently fell to her knees so that they could be the same height.

Firdaus was hesitant at first, but after her Amma had held both of her arms wide open as if to capture her in a warm and never-ending hug, Firdaus's small feet padded against the tiled floor. The redness on the bottom of her feet increased with each step she took, signifying her excitement of what the possibilities meant.

"Oh my little butterfly," Muskaan smiled as Firdaus gently fell in her arms, and she wrapped her little arms around her Amma's neck.

"Sorry Amma, I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Firdaus said under her breath as she ashamedly peered up from where she sat in Muskaan's lap. She never, ever wanted to make her Amma upset with her.

"Of course not! I was just about to tell you a secret. Our little secret," Muskaan cupped Firdaus's cheek and leaned her forehead against hers. She brushed her fingers gently down her back and over the white cotton frock that complimented her innocent beauty in every form.

"Amma, is there a baby in your tummy?" Five year old Firdaus asked with curiosity as her fingers stilled on her Amma's neck. Her eyes widened just a fraction beyond excitement, and Muskaan's heart swelled and nearly collapsed in the pit of her stomach.

Muskaan's lips stretched into the widest smile, her eyes sparkling with contentment. "Yes, yes my butterfly. Your baby brother or sister. But promise, you won't tell anyone. Not even Baba," Muskaan pleaded with a broken whisper.

Firdaus could feel the fear that lurked around every inch of her Amma's body, radiating into her touch. And she knew that feeling all too well.

Firdaus nodded eagerly and Muskaan kissed her cheeks, but curiosity got the best of her. "But Amma, why not tell Baba?"

Muskaan had wiped her cracked lips, biting the edge out of anxiousness as she crossed her legs underneath and pulled Firdaus to the heart of her lap.

"Because if I tell your Baba now, I might never see my baby," Muskaan had replied minutes after as she'd fondly combed her fingers through Firdaus's long hair. She didn't have the heart to cut her daughter's beautiful hair no matter how many times Zayan yelled at her about it.

Her every thought, her every move had morphed into the dance that tip toed around Zayan. She had trained herself to be ready for the worst possible outcome, but he was unpredictable. He was a broken glass piece of glass that watched with calculation before striking with fire.

Firdaus hadn't understood her mother's reply then, and instead she'd simply nodded and laid her apple red cheek on her mother's thrumming heart.

Eight months later, Faryal- their angel, their secret would grace her way into the world, bringing them happiness that knew no boundaries. But it wasn't until years later, that Firdaus understood the hidden meaning behind the words Muskaan had uttered that hushed night from the prying ears of her father.

Muskaan had miscarried twice after Firdaus's birth and before Faryal was born. And each time she'd been pregnant in between, Zayan had found a way to torture the child inside before he or she was even born. He had accused her to be pregnant with someone else's child, calling her a whore. But it was Zayan who had taken advantage of Muskaan's innocence, taking the lives of their own children that she had warmed in her womb.

~|✵|~

When Zayan had found out Muskaan was pregnant again and nearing her second trimester, all hell had broken loose. It was late one night when Firdaus and Muskaan sat on the linoleum floor of Firdaus's small bedroom that held a few stuffed animals and keepsakes she'd collected over the years.

The two were speaking in soft voices, barely an octave above a whisper. But neither one had heard the turn of the front doorknob and the steps that had led Zayan from the front door and to Firdaus's room.

They were conversing secretively, giggling in between as Fidaus did something funny or Muskaan tickled her daughter. Over the years, the two had learned to live for each other. They were connected through a thick strand of thread that had been pulled over and over again, but no sharpness could cut through them.

"When will we find out if it's a boy or girl?" Firdaus had asked her Amma with wide and exhilaration filled eyes. Her elbows were on her crossed knees, her palms cupping her rosy cheeks as she looked up at Muskaan.

She had always been in awe of how beautiful her mother was. Every night before her Baba would come home, Muskaan would ready herself in hope that tonight would be the night where he would ask for forgiveness and fall to his knees out of contempt for what he'd done- how he'd tortured her physically, emotionally, and mentally. Muskaan knew that she lied to her heart every single day, but she let herself feed into the very small part that hoped over and over again.

The plain mint shalwar kameez held an intricate gold border around the edges of the dupatta along with the hem of the three-fourths sleeves and bottom of the kameez. The material glided over Muskaan's skin, the chiffon dupatta sitting above her torso and around her neck. The pure color complimented her solid-colored bangles made out of glass, and they decorated her hands with grace- a soft statement.

Muskaan smiled down at her daughter, and Firdaus could remember that exact smile before Zayan had stolen their precious moment away from her. Her Amma was an enigma in herself, but when she smiled- she was simply a star worth coveting. Muskaan's bottom lip was fuller than the top, and all the rare times her smile would meet pure her chocolaty brown eyes, they would glimmer and twinkle with secrets.

"Soon in sha Allah," Muskaan simply grinned at Firdaus, patting her head with one hand and dropping one to her flat stomach. She hadn't start showing yet, and it gave her more time to prepare herself before she got to Zayan.

But little did she know, as the words were exchanged, Zayan stood on the other side of the door until he opened the barrier between them with a loud roar, and the lamp in the corner of Firdaus's room shook with thunder.

"You're pregnant?" Zayan's voice was buried with the smell of cigarettes, as if he'd smoked a whole pack in the past half an hour.

Firdaus's eyes had widened, a yelp leaving her chest when Zayan had suddenly returned his presence in her small room.

"Zayan," Muskaan calmly uttered under her breath as she got up from the floor and stood to cover Firdaus's small body with her own as she pushed her behind. She didn't want her daughter to witness what she'd been trying to save her from for the past three months. She'd tried and tried, but she'd failed miserably.

Zayan's each step towards Muskaan was painfully slow and excruciating. His light hair fell in his wild green and honeysuckle eyes that were oh so painfully beautiful. They raked over her body until it stopped over her stomach. She held her left hand to her abdomen, not withering once in her position as her thin wedding band shined under his filthy eyes.

He was a feral animal with no self-control or patience. When she'd thought that she'd tamed him with all the fire in her heart and body, he'd begged for more until she was tired and learned that nothing could satiate him. He was a savage monster who'd covered her eyes with salt.

"Zayan, please- let's talk about this," her voice was sincere, her words gentle.

He shook his head at her, unable to understand her betrayal. He was inches away from her beautiful face, and he could see the way her eyes didn't move from his. Her determination was one thing that had made him weak because no matter how much he'd hurt her, she'd still get back on her feet and face him.

"Talk. About. This?" Zayan's deathly calm voice scared Firdaus. She shook behind her Amma, clutching the length of Muskaan's kameez between her small fists.

"You fucking whore," he spat out between his clenched teeth.

That was it.

He had lost it.

Before he could drag Muskaan to their bedroom, his eyes fell on the small girl that hid behind. She looked exactly like him, and all Hell would be damned if he didn't see it.

Zayan's teeth grinded in his mouth until he could feel the rusty blood from his gums swallow his tongue. He went around Muskaan and pulled Firdaus's small arm before he tossed her over his shoulder and walked to the staircase that led to the cold, wet, and stinky attic.

Not the closet. Please not the closet.

"AMMA! PLEASE, NOOOO! PLEASE!" Firdaus thrashed her arms on Zayan's back, her legs going erratic with each cry and plea, but Zayan didn't even flinch.

Firdaus knew how this was going to end.

She was all too familiar with it.

"ZAYAN! USSE CHOR DEY (LEAVE HER)! ZAYAN!" Muskaan yelled and yelled, running after Zayan as he tightly held onto the flailing ruckus Firdaus created in his strong arms.

She wrecked havoc. A dangerous mess that could easily break Zayan in more ways than one, in more ways than he'd ever believe or admit.

Before he could get to the second step to the attic, Muskaan caught his arm, and he stilled. Her bangles clinked with lingering perturbation. His wild eyes met Muskaan's tear-stricken eyes that were void of desire, and something in his heart clenched as he pivoted on his heel.

The sweater he wore pinched deeper, burning his skin and making it crawl with anger. The threads in his jacket suffocated him with the pain in Muskaan's eyes.

How dare she look like moonlight basked in the sun when he hated her so much? How dare she make him feel this way when all he wanted to do was ruin her till her last breath? How dare she even breathe the single breath he absorbed?

"Zayan, meri baat sune (please listen to me). Firdaus ko chor dey (Leave Firdaus). Ya zamaa jaanukai- woh masoom hai (Oh my darling- she is innocent)," Muskaan's eyes were scorched with scarlet as a shaking hand reached out towards Zayan's cheek.

She had loved this man with all her heart, and she had come to know that nothing could change him, not even her love.

But she was patient. She had always been patient.

Zayan quickly clutched Muskaan's wrist, drowning in the screams of Firdaus as she restlessly tried to escape. His wrist clenched her thin wrist until the glass underneath cracked and penetrated into her skin. Neither of them flinched or looked away. Muskaan was unfazed when she felt the sharp glass from her bangles kiss the fresh blood that dripped down her wrists.

"I will not let you turn her into you!" And with that, he threw Muskaan's hand to the side and carried Firdaus the last steps up into the attic before disposing her body into the dark closet. He didn't utter one word, not looking at his five-year-old daughter once as he shoved her in the corner and locked the doors of the closet.

"ZAYAN! LET HER GO! She's a child! She's human! She doesn't deserve any of this!" Muskaan's throat was dry after all the crying and screaming she'd done for her daughter- for their daughter. She'd followed him up the steps, but nothing had stopped him.

"ZAYAN!" Muskaan had yelled with bloodshot eyes when her baby cried till her lungs had nothing but air in them.

"If you utter one more word, then I will throw you and your bastard unborn child down the stairs of this attic, and you will have no fucking baby inside of you!" He'd turned to Muskaan after locking up Firdaus. His eyes didn't falter, and neither did his voice.

Firdaus could see Zayan clutching the back of her Amma's hair through the slits of the closet door. Muskaan's head had fallen back as a sharp yelp went through her lips.

"Zayan, I beg of you to please listen to me," her mother hadn't given up. She kept trying no matter how much pain she was in. Her gentle whispering voice provoked nothing but the self-destructing demon inside of him.

"No, YOU listen to me! I don't want to hear anything else for the rest of the night except my name screamed from your lips. Is that understood? You've forgotten that only I hold power over you, and no one else!" He cupped Muskaan's face and brought it close to his lips before gliding his nose down her long neck.

It was a revolting act on his part done to have control over her. No matter how much he sabotaged her, he had to remind himself that she was only his for his own repulsive sanity.

Firdaus could feel the bile rise up in the back of her throat as she saw her father brutally destroy her mother with his words, and her cries stopped as he dragged her Amma down the steps and closed the door to the pitch black attic.

There was nothing except darkness in the room, and her own screams were drowned out as her mother's pleas covered her own. She knew her mother's voice more than any other noise in the entire world, more than she knew her own voice.

The rest of the night, tears silently fell from Firdaus's eyes as she rocked on her bottom, her arms covering her knees.

She didn't sleep.

She didn't stop crying.

But she was bleeding somewhere.

It wasn't till after when dusk had roared through the windows in the attic and into the slivers of the closet's door that she could see just where she bled on her abdomen.

The blood was fresh, staining her white summer dress, and she knew that it must have been when her father threw her inside the closet like a rag doll, and she had landed on a piece of stray wood that had fallen from the roof of the attic.

But no amount of pain, blood, and tears could make her forget the way her mother had looked before he took her away the night before. Her face had lost emotion, her eyes losing the glimmer that she would put up as a façade for her daughter.

He'd ruined her.

Zayan had ruined Muskaan.

~

Glossary:

Ya zamaa jaanukai~ Oh my darling (in Pastho)

This was very hard for me to write, but I truly, truly hope that the emotions did all the talking. Remember: pay attention to the details.

Why do you guys think that Zayan didn't kill the baby Muskaan was carrying like the other two before she got pregnant with Faryal?

Tell me your thoughts! :) Please vote, share, and comment. Awaiting your lovely feedback for this flashback that is engraved in a five-year-old child's mind and stoned into her heart.