Cries of pleas and pain echoed off the walls of the dingy cell in the heart of the scorching desert of Somalia. A battered body thrown off on the floor without a care, pools of blood adorning the filthy floor like often seen in a butchers' shop.

Snippets of memories flash across her mind as she sat there slumped against the wall, hands cuffed above her head and her head drooping down, unable to lift it or move any fiber within her body due to the fiery pain that reigns over her, from the tips of her toes to the ends of her disheveled hair. Every breath coming out as a wheeze, as her broken ribs continue to poke her from within. Tears sting behind the closed eyelids as they threaten to open the barrier to a rush of memories, which are for now tucked within the deep recesses of her mind. Unbeknownst to her a small drop of tear escapes its tight confines and liberally flows down the rugged plains that once use to blush a beautiful pale tint of pink on being admired of her mesmerizing prowess.

The window with the steel bars on the adjacent wall mock her with a treat so far from her reach. A sky so black yet so pure, sparkling stars strewn across the abyss in stark contrast to her own blood strewn across the filthy floor. A gentle breeze sways the minimum foliage there, the sound of its rustling a welcome intrusion to the monotone of dull thumping in her ears. The smell of the fresh breeze tantalizing her senses encouraging her to bring her tongue out and moisten her chapped lips. The searing pain the action sends through her veins bursts into a blinding white light behind the curtains of her eyelids, bringing forth a distant memory of a hot summer night a lifetime ago where she laid on the mattress with a cut on her lip that was burning and bleeding, the form of her mother hovering over her, dabbing medicines onto her broken lips and whispering sweet consolations to her sobbing child and lulled her into a sleep sending her to a place that would hurt her child no more.

Inside the cell she tries to open her eyes and succeeds in opening them halfway up, the brown pools of her eyes stare blankly, out the window at the stars. The tears flow freely out of its confines as she lets go the little control she had. After a few seconds that felt like years to her tired and defeated eyes she involuntarily shut them. A distant echo of her mother's voice singing the lullaby that soothed her during restless nights in the past, wafted through the warm air of the desert sky. Her eyes opened in earnest, searching eagerly for the voice that lamented her miseries. She saw the silhouette of her mother walk towards her. She closed her eyes and opened them again, against the raging pain that commanded her to close her body in every way possible. She opened her eyes to stare right into another pair of the similar brown orbs, a pair of eyes that regaled its own tale of a lifetime of torment and pain. She yearned to feel that touch once more, longed to hear the sweet nothings whispered in her ear, craved to see her mother's face as she sung that lullaby to her that warded of all the evils in the world. Ziva's eyes closed of their own accord simultaneously as a whisper of breath left her lips saying 'ima'