Roses

By: Mishal Rehan

My crimson red silk gown flowed, like a pool of freshly spilt blood, as I sat on the rock hard mattress of the bed, my eyes examining the crisp white roses strung around me. The night grew as silent as a void, the entire village sleeping with dreams behind their eyelids, exhausted by the earlier festivities. My heartbeat quickened with every passing minute as I waited for the man I had never met my entire life; the man I was to call my husband. Suddenly, the door to the single bedroom hut slammed open and he stood there, broad-chested and heaving. Glancing through my handcrafted veil, I could tell by his face that he was angry, his eyes glinting with a certain hunger and malice.

A violent tremor shook through my spine at that look and I balled my hands into fists, the walls of the hut closing into me. “Why do you look so afraid, wife?”, he snarled at me while untangling his belt, coiling it around his thick hands. Fear coursed through my veins, making my teeth chatter, as I struggled to breathe in a room alone with my husband, who so very resembled the monster of my childhood nightmares. He inched forward to stand next to the bed I sat on and angled my chin up with a frightening gentleness. “Look at me when I speak to you”, he growled, “Look at me!”

(TW: Domestic Abuse/ Marital Rape)

Whimpering, I jerked out of his grip and then the coldness of leather struck me, swift as lightning. I cried out at the pain, tears slipping out of my eyes as he tore my veil apart with his hands and forced himself upon me, my fists useless against his thick muscles. Pain coursing through my body, I angled my head to look out the little window, spotting the moon shining as red as my beautiful wedding gown, cursing my cold-hearted parents who had sold me to this heathen. The moons warm glow washing over me as I faded out of consciousness, my empty heart full of despise.

I woke up to the peaceful chirping of birds before dawn, so different from the battle that was waging within my mind. My husband snored beside me, as peaceful as the birds outside. I got up to wash the horrors of the previous night, my mind full of all the similar stories I had heard of the village women and their submission to this horrendous deed. As the water flowed over me, trickling down my legs, I made a decision that I would not go down as one of those stories.

Surprised at my own daring thoughts, I hurried to make my departure from what was to be a lifelike hell, moving fast before my husband woke up or before I lost my courage. My belongings gathered I made my way out of the sinful hut under the cover of the morning darkness and my black hood, not caring to look back even once. Death would be my fate if caught, yet I knew that I had to make a stand, for the preservation of my soul and the souls of so many other young girls. And so I marched on, away from my disastrous marriage and away from my devastating village, where monsters loomed behind wooden doors.