The Moment We Met (Chapter 41)

Maisara's pov

Rose Hill, elder daughter of the respectable Hill couple. She was everything parents would expect in a daughter and society in a woman. Obedient, soft-spoken, good grades, submissive, and stuff like that. Hill family was also a picture-perfect family and had a good reputation around the neighborhood. So obviously, everything was perfect about them, no?

No, everything was wrong. Behind the facade of a perfect family, that house was a living hell. Mental abuse was like a living and breathing parasite in every corner of the house. How else do you make your dream child without any sort of abuse? In fact, that is the main weapon to make them submissive to you.

After living in such a suffocating environment my whole life, I found my own breathing space all of a sudden. That was Ryker Reyes who came into my life out of nowhere. It wasn't like we didn't know each other before that. In school, both of us were quite famous in our respective fields, me as a quiet cheerleader who didn't have a single rumor going on about her and him as an aspiring NFL player and a social butterfly. Well, me not having a rumor sounded exaggerating but it was what it was. 

We had a rather unusual meet-cute. I wouldn't say it was necessarily romantic. The cheerleaders usually practiced either in the gymnasium or in the field. The place was always mentioned before the practice in the group chat. I don't exactly remember how but I messed up the place that day. I was walking around the field to find out where they were practicing when suddenly someone tackled me to the ground. Hard. I felt my ribs crushing. That was Ryker. The ball flew over our heads a second later. 

After we got up, I was about to yell at him for almost breaking my bones when he started apologizing for tackling me so hard. He actually saved me, so I told him that it was fine, thanked him, and left the place. 

At this point, I would like to mention that this was just a random interaction and none of us had any interest in the other prior to that. That was a public place where it happened. Students normally came to watch them practice, the football team. So a lot of people witnessed it. We gave them a hot topic to gossip around and a ship they didn't think they needed.

We went our ways but the students didn't leave it. And it started getting more serious. I wouldn't get into more details but you can guess how it went. So, after that, long story short, we decided to give it a try. He asked me out on a date and I accepted. One date turned into two dates, then two into three, and three into four. Finally, we started dating. The ship sailed.

It was good at first, perfect even. We clicked almost instantly. Ryker was what you would say a perfect partner. He treated me well, exactly how a woman wants to be treated. From my side, I tried my best to return his efforts. I don't know how much I succeeded.

I told you already that I came from an abusive household. He was a relief for me at that time. We were the power couple of the school. And to be honest, I loved that attention.

We were so in a daze that more than a year passed within the blink of an eye. We, what people said, were couple goals. The sweet moments were one thing but it may sound exaggerating that we never had a single argument during this time. Of course, we had multiple disagreements as we were two different people. But somehow it never turned into an argument. 

I'm sure I don't need to go into any more details of our relationship, you can get it by now. Our relationship was like every other healthy relationship. We did what every other couple does. So if I skip that part, we come to the point from where things started to go south.

You are already aware of this part of the story. One random day, in the name of being playful, I crossed the line by snatching his phone—which, apparently, was a huge mistake. 

That day we were on a date and both of us were being silly like every other time. He kept using his phone from time to time which he didn't normally do. That's why I took it from him thinking it was another silly game. It wasn't. That day was the first time he raised his voice against me. I was in shock and utterly confused as to why he was behaving this way. I wasn't even checking his phone or anything. 

Well, I guess he realized his mistake seeing the look on my face. He just took the phone with him and left. I followed him to his house, kept apologizing all the way, and ended up staying the night in his place. He didn't even acknowledge my presence once, let alone apologize. I cried myself to sleep.

However, I woke up to a dramatic change in his behavior. He was back to being that loving, caring, and dutiful boyfriend. I was flooded by a series of apologies from him. What didn't he do? Gifts, flowers, letters, and handmade foods were all around me. He was kneeling in 'shame' and wouldn't even get back up until I forgave him. 

Any girl was bound to swoon over that much exaggeration. And I was no exception. I forgave him. 

To this day, I can't tell whether I did a right or wrong thing forgiving him that day. But I can tell that his behavior changed since that day. Or maybe it wasn't him, it was me all along. Well, however, our relationship surely changed after that.

Where we didn't have one argument in a year, we started having it every single week. Then it came down to every three days, then every day, and finally every hour. The gradual changes happened within approximately six months. Then the final blow hit us.

You know, it's a human instinct to get curious about forbidden things and curiosity killed the cat. Both happened to me in this case. As Ryker overreacted that first night when I took his phone, I knew for sure that he was hiding something in there. That prompted me to check his phone again. When I didn't find anything on the first try, I tried again. And it kept going on and on until I started going crazy. Because I never found anything in his phone. Like it was eerily clean. Too much of anything is not good. Here too much cleanliness kept raising my suspicion to the point that I started going insane with it.

So after almost six months, I finally found something in his phone. There were some messages between him and an unknown number. I don't exactly remember what was in there but I remember that it was pretty vague. That was why I was utterly confused despite being overly excited about finding something after so long. Now that I think about it, I think it was something of his involvement with these criminal activities.

I was thinking of confronting him about it when he caught me red-handed. You can already guess how it went. The same argument and the same yelling. We kept going back and forth, none of us wanting to back away. By then, it was our daily routine. But that day, it was more intense. The wave of anger kept rising and rising until we were almost submerged in it.

Both of us lost control at one point. Or maybe it was only him. Profanities were flying. He raised his hand for the first time. Physically it didn't make contact with my skin. Mentally it scared me for life. The effect was almost instant. It made me physically paralyzed on the spot. 

Like I said before, all these arguments and stuff didn't go well with me. So I had kinda similar reactions to all those previous arguments as well, sometimes in between or sometimes after that. Panic attacks, crying, and freezing on the spot became more common gradually. Sometimes Ryker helped me with those, sometimes he acted like he didn't see them and sometimes he just straight up ignored them. 

So, I guess, that's what he thought was happening that day too, like it was a normal behavior of mine. I think it even angered him more. He announced the breakup and ended the argument with it.

By this time, it started getting hard for me to breathe. I was just staring at him in utter confusion. How did he reach that conclusion all of a sudden? How did we even come down to this point that he was thinking of leaving me? Was I that easily replaceable for him? Was this the boy I loved? Was this the same boy who cared for me so much? Was this the boy who I thought was my light?

Despite all that, I asked him, gasping for my life, why he was making such a decision. And he mockingly informed me that I cheated on him and that he would never stay with a cheater. I couldn't get any words out for a few seconds. How he even managed to accuse me of such a thing was beyond my imagination. 

By that time, my condition was so bad that I was just lying on the floor, trying to get a grip on myself and failing miserably. Still, I fought back. I told him that he was wrong and that I didn't cheat. I also said that I could explain and clear his misunderstanding if he told me about the situation based on which he reached such a conclusion. He laughed. I was almost dying in front of him and he laughed on my face. He also said that he didn't need my explanation. It was his brother who informed him and obviously, he wouldn't believe some—well, he used a nasty word here to address me—over his brother. Then he left me there to die and walked out of his apartment.

It took me one hour to just get up from the floor and go to the couch. We were arguing in the living room and the couch was the nearest thing. And it took me two hours to finally be normal, well, if you count the continuous crying out of it.

Of course, I stayed the night like the desperate and pathetic shit I was and cried myself to sleep like I did that first night almost six months ago. Needless to say, I was an idiot. I thought that it was just a phase and we would be out of it soon. I thought that he said those things only because he was angry and would apologize like that first day. We would be back together.

However, I woke up in the morning on the ground outside of his apartment door with a note attached to my chest that said, "Get out of here before I come back. Otherwise, you won't like the outcome." I was so blacked out that I didn't even wake up when he dragged me out of his apartment and left me there.

The stress of the previous night's events was still there in my mind. Moreover, I was too tired to find out what the outcome was. So, I left.

Again here, I'm not sure if I did the right thing by leaving or not. Because once I was gone, I couldn't come back. It's not because I didn't want to. You have no idea how desperate I was to have him back or for him to have me back. Days and nights, I used to keep pestering him like a pathetic parasite. The situation got to a point where I would happily stay with him even if he would keep me as a slave. But he didn't want to do anything with me. At first, he used to shoo me away. Later, he straight-up started ignoring me. I'm not going into details but I can tell you that you have no idea to which length I got to stay with him and to which length he got to get rid of me.

Now you may ask where my parents were as I previously described them to be so strict to the point of abusing their daughter. Well, plot twist, they abandoned me the moment they found out about my 'messing around' with Ryker. They verbally announced it but didn't go through the legal procedure. 

When I was in a relationship with Ryker, I mostly stayed in his place. He knew everything about my family and was 'kind' enough to let me stay in his place. He lived alone which was a plus point. There were days when I didn't stay at his. I stayed at one of my friends' places in those days. It never really occurred to me that this could be a bigger problem in the future. Because I was seeing the world through red glasses the whole time I was with him. I was seeing a forever with him. Us breaking up? No freaking way!

However, when the glasses were finally snatched from my eyes, I started seeing the reality of my situation. I lost both of the places I considered as my home.

So when I was lost and had nowhere to go, I found the library. Or if I'm being more accurate, Maria was the one who found me. I would rather not state the condition in which she found me. She just took me in like a stray cat. And I followed her everywhere like one too. 

It wasn't like she found me right away after my breakup. There was, I think, a time interval of more than a month in between. 

If I ever owe anyone my life, it is her. Well, I actually owe her more than my life. She was with me when I had nothing and no one. She kept me and sheltered me when my own parents left me. She showed me the right path when I was lost.

She has a habit of picking up strays. I wasn't the only one. I was one of many. Another one of them was an old lady, around Maria's age. She was the one who helped me take my Shahada. 

Her name was Ayesha. I met her at Maria's place. Maria's place is actually a farmhouse which she inherited just like the library. It is at a ten-minute walking distance from the library. If you think the library is in an odd place, you should see where her house is. 

Maria took me to her house, of course, and I started staying there. First few days, my condition wasn't pretty nice. I was beyond exhausted, both physically and mentally. So I used to spend most of my time sleeping.

It was probably on the third or fourth day. I woke up at dawn. At first, I didn't realize what woke me up. Then I heard a soothing and melodious voice as if someone was reciting something. I got up and followed the source of the voice. And I was right. 

Ayesha was reciting the Quran while sitting on the first-floor balcony. I crept up there and sat on a cushion that was near the door. I did that because I didn't want to disrupt her attention and wanted to hear her recitation at the same time. However, she sensed me. Pausing, she turned around. When her eyes met mine, she just smiled at me and beckoned me to go near her. Her expression seemed so simple yet kind. On the other hand, I was like a deer in the headlights. However, I obeyed and sat beside her. And she started talking with me.

It won't be exaggerating at all if I say that was the first time I felt truly relaxed after more than six months. Or maybe it was the first time in my life. As I was already introverted and the recent series of events affected me, I wasn't talking much. The whole time, Ayesha did most of the talking. She had a nice voice, slow and soothing. Her talking wasn't much different from her recitation. That's one of the reasons, I felt so relaxed. Time passed in the blink of an eye. 

It became a routine for us. She would walk me up with the recitation and we would talk for hours. She loved to talk and I loved to listen. She started healing parts of me that she never broke. She mostly talked about her religion. She loved her religion. And from that, I started loving it too. I spent more than a month there, I think. And ninety percent of my time was spent with her. She worked as my therapist and her religion as my medicine. Her passion and belief motivated me so much. It was as if I started seeing the world from her perspective. 

So, finally, one day, when she suggested me to convert, I thought, "Why not?". Because I felt like I didn't have anything to call mine at that point in my life. And if I converted, I would have Islam as 'my' religion and Allah as 'my' God. It felt incredible to just think about it. At least, I would have something strong enough to hold onto. Needless to say, I never felt much attached to my previous religion. I was kinda 'forced' to follow it. The way I felt devoted even before accepting Islam was what prompted me to make the decision. And so, I took my Shahada and became Muslim.

After that, we can skip the next few weeks. It was mostly spent on improving myself. I was getting better day by day, moving on from my past. The damage it cost me started healing as well. They don't bother me much. Panic attacks were non-existent. The only thing that kept nagging me every now and then was the issue with my parents. Because in Islam, parents are well-respected. The relationship with them is given great emphasis. Even certain things cannot be done without the involvement of the parents. 

So, I started questioning myself. Was I too hard on them? Should I not have cut off ties with them? Should I involve them back in my life? I mean they are my parents, above everything else. How did I cut them off just like that? They are humans too, just like me. Everyone makes mistakes. Maybe they did too. 

After giving it a brief thought, I decided to give them another chance and go back home. If you can't already tell, it was another mistake, a huge one.

Already almost one year has passed since the day I left the house. When I went back, my parents were crying 'happy tears' seeing me. They thought that they lost their elder daughter forever. They were 'devastated' all this time. I had no idea how 'happy' they were to have me back. These were all their words, followed by a shower of hugs and kisses. Their reactions were obviously not what I expected. And being the fool that I still was, I thought they were being truthful. What an idiot!

However, it didn't take time for them to show their real faces. I went back there in the afternoon. The night went normally with them expressing how lucky they were to have me back over and over. After dinner, I went back to my room. I can't describe how good it felt to be back there. It was my comfort zone for such a long time. It was probably the first time I cried happy tears in my life. I genuinely thought that everything had changed and now I was back with my family. I was happy that I decided to give them a second chance. 

With that thought, I went to sleep and woke up to my little sister holding a knife against my neck.

Of course, I created a fuse, probably waking up the whole neighborhood with my screaming. However, I found out that she had developed the habit of 'sleepwalking' and that was just one of her episodes. I believed and went back to bed. Sleep was, however, gone for the night.

They were kinda okay-ish the next morning too. Their behavior started changing from the moment they heard that I had converted. Not a dramatic change, as I expected. But little ones, like you wouldn't notice them unless you pay really close attention. I noticed and ignored them as the dream of a happy family was still so vivid within me. Another mistake.

Those little changes gradually kept getting bigger and I kept ignoring them. It didn't take even a week before they turned back to their old selves, with violence as a new addition. And a week later, I left the house as an emergency case, heading to the hospital with my throat slit open. My 'sleepwalking' sister did that. 

I was obviously unconscious when they had taken me to the hospital. To this day, I don't understand why they did that. Because I have a really strong feeling that it was a failed murder attempt. I didn't die from the cut alone but I would have if they left me there for a longer period. We would never meet again if the attempt was successful that day.

However, no one was there when I woke up in the hospital bed. It wasn't that hard for me to connect the dots and reach the conclusion. And when I understood what was going on, the first thought that came to mind was that I had to escape. And I did just that, this time for good. 

Nothing much happened after that. I started a new life with a new identity, got a job, got a home and everything changed for good.

That pretty much wraps up my past. I told you more than it was in that damn video. The story in that video is slightly twisted as the sole purpose of it is to make fun of my miserable time. You can still watch it if you desire. Whatever you are willing to do with the information is up to you. Whatever your judgment is after knowing all that, is also up to you. I just informed you about all the things you wanted to know.