Every year, a girl is chosen to "entertain" Sayedy Libya. The head housekeeper chooses us "at random." Everyone knows that she asks Sayedy whom he prefers. I've always hated the ordeal. He simply takes a girl and uses her until he's tired of her.

We are lined up according to height. With my medium height, I am placed in the middle of forty girls. The housekeeper, a middle-aged woman with a mole on her upper lip, begins pacing in front of us.

"It is that time of year bents. I have decides whom I shall choose for Sayedy." She came to where I was standing and pointed at me. "I have chosen you Sabiha." I heard gasps and wails of protest.

"Ei! Jad!" Screeched a girl towards the end of the line. "This is not right! She's not fit for Sayedy!" The girl next to me called back, "You speak as if you are fit for Allah himself!" Anisa, my closest friend, turned towards me to give me a reassuring smile. "You're very lucky, Sayedy's waseem. I didn't feel lucky as I followed the housekeeper into oblivion.
The housekeeper led me to Sayedy's bed chamber. She smiled at me. "Good luck tefel." She nudged me through the door. The room was richly furnished, and smelled of incense. I didn't sense anyone in the room, so I stood near the door.

My mind ran over all of the exits in this room. Perhaps I could run out before- . "Here's my beautiful Sabiha." Sayedy warped his arms around my waist. "Let go." He turned me around so he could look at me. "What did you say?" I began to fight him. "LET ME GO!" My leg hit him somewhere on his body.

Sayedy's arms slid off of my waist. He gasped in pain as he fell to the floor. "You stupid salgot!" I grabbed the dagger that fell out of his robe when I fought him. He was gripping his extremities as I fled the room. I ran as fast as I could.

Someone grabbed my arm to stop me as I ran. "Sabiha! What's wrong with you?" I looked into the innocent face of Anisa. I pulled my arm away. "Let me go Anisa!" I kept running until I was no longer on Sayedy's property.

I knelt on the ground, unable to run any longer. I pulled the dagger out of it's sheath. "Oh Allah! What have I done to deserve this?" I pulled my waist-length hair, which had come undone while I was running, into one hand.

I sliced off half of the hair I held in my hand. "I cast off my old self. I am made new now. I am no longer a servant of Sayedy Libya and Allah. Never again will I be known as Sabiha. I am my own person. I am free." I fixed my hijab, hid the dagger in my skirt, and left my old life and went to find a new one.

I drifted from place to place, until I came into a foreign country. I stopped a women hurrying towards the marketplace. "Excuse me, but can you tell me where I am?" The woman gave me a confused look.

"You are in Rabat, the capitol of Morocco. Is there some place in particular you are trying to go?" "Well-" The woman interrupted me. "Have you no where to go, bent?" I shook my head. "No, I don't."

Something came into the woman's eyes. Compassion? Pity? Worry for the homeless girl?

She took my arm. "Come. I know someone who will give you a place to stay, at least for the night." I was half lead-half dragged (unwillingly) away from the marketplace.

We came to a large, old building with a cross carved into the stone above a door. The woman rapped her knuckles on the worn, wooden door. A older woman with silvery hair and a pale face answered the door.

"How might I help you?" My captor/helper nodded respectfully in greeting. "Sister, this young woman has no-where to go. She needs a place to stay for the night." The silver-haired woman smiled. "We have plenty of room for her."

I studied the woman who was generous enough to give me room and board for the night. Her silver hair was pulled into a neat bun, without a hair out of place. She wore a simple black dress that fell to her ankles.

The woman noticed me watching her. "Have you ever seen a nun before, child?" "No." I answered. We passed by a group of girls chattering loudly in a strange language. The woman continued down a long hall.

"We are servants of God. Our duty is to-" "My apologies," I interjected. "I do not believe in Allah." The woman smiled gently. "Neither do we."

The one night's stay turned into a three years stay. During that period of time, I learned of the God these women worshiped. In two months, I converted to Christianity, the stories of all-knowing prophets and a compassionate God who gave everyone a second chance, drawing me in.

The one thing I could not do, was take my vows. A small voice kept telling me, Not yet... There is something you must do...

Without the knowledge of Abbess Batel, the silver-haired woman who gave me shelter so long ago; I taught myself how to fight.
Never again will I be a defenseless little girl in the face of danger.

Poetry! (Wrote it myself)

In and out, up and down, they travel through the abyss.

Some stay in the abyss, enjoying its warmth and security

Some lie in an in between place, wanting to be free of the abyss, but enjoying its pleasures.

Some escape the abyss, but are sucked back towards it.

All of them call for help...

A figure appears. He is clothed in light and crowned in love. He says:

"Come with me. I'll give you food when you're hungry, and drink when you're thirsty.

I will comfort you when you're sad and rejoice with you when you're happy."

"All I ask is that you follow me. Leave this dark place behind. Come with me."

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