In the last chapter, the Ahmeds hosted a Garden Party wherein most of the community was invited - including Ahtrai, much to Saria's dismay. But that was the least of her worries, when after Wali chased her with an alligator lizard (her greatest phobia), she threw a screaming fit in front of their guests. Things only served to go from bad to worse when Tanya struck Saria and Assef violently attacked their mother in retaliation, needing to be physically restrained by Kamal. We now continue with the same afternoon as Mahmood delivers a cruel brand of punishment to his children for their behaviour...

Please note that I do not own the Kite Runner, any of its characters, plot points, dialogue, or anything of the sort... I claim only my own OCs and story. Please also note that I condone none of the actions, thoughts, behaviours, and feelings of the characters here. This is merely a work of fiction and should be taken as such...

This chapter will contain domestic and child abuse. Reader discretion is advised. With that all being said, and to all of my readers, please feel free to comment and review, let me know what you think. And without further ado, the story will continue...


Despite my entire family having been congregated together in the kitchen, and despite the noise that had earlier filled up the entire house, the laughter and chit-chat of guests that now seemed a million miles away, an uncomfortable silence now filled the entire room. Uncomfortable? No... no that was not the right word by which I ought to describe it. To call it thus would be to take away from the sheer terror that it caused to permeate through me. It was a silence that crept its way through from the back door, a shadow-creature that spun its tendrils around chairs and tables, wafting through from under the sink, moving through the open windows, making the curtains flutter just-so in its calm yet frightening breeze.

The silence snuck towards me, inching ever closer. I could almost envision it, this terrifying creature, a shadow that made its way across the kitchen floor. Try as I might to squirm away from it, to hide away from my thoughts and fears, in silence, all things such as this roared fully to life. The grim reticence seized hold of my very conscience, tearing apart the walls that I had erected in hopes of protecting myself. Brick by brick did it knock them down, then smashed the cement to dust. It whispered to me, its voice a thin and ominous pitch.

Foolish child, it said, turning my frightened soul to face it. Foolish, foolish little girl. I see your fears. I see your pain, all of it. I see the way that your body crumples, does it not? At the mere thought of all that you have done, of all that your deplorable behaviour has caused. You know, do you not, what you will have wrought upon not only yourself, but on your brother, too? Oh, stupid girl, you could not have made a more grievous error than had you marched into the lion's den, dripping in fresh blood and offering yourself up as prey for the beast. But no, you had not merely put your own person into this danger, but have torn down with you the one person who your twisted heart does claim to love. How selfish, you monstrous child, how selfish and how cruel of you. And oh, how stupid. But you have no more brains than a common simpleton, and indeed you realise that, do you not? Even if you try so hard to deny that grim truth.

Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, causing a painful stinging sensation. My vision blurred, tiny pinpricks of light flickering just so throughout the brightly lit kitchen. A low moan escaped from my parched lips, and I brought up the heel of my left hand to rub desperately at the edges of my face, trying to remove the sting from out of my eyes. But it was of no use, try as I might, I was unable to prevent the sudden onslaught of the migraine attack that now coursed its way through me. It had been brought on, no doubt, by the terror of everything that had happened today, and of everything that was surely about to happen now.

I lay there, curled in a tiny ball within my brother's arms. My tiny hands, fingers bent into claws, gripped at the fabric of his shirt with such force that I wondered, in the back of my mind, if there could ever be a hope of disentangling me from him. My knees bent, legs dangling just so over his lap as he sat there on the kitchen floor, one hand pressed against my back, not caring about the grass-stains that now covered my dress from where I had earlier toppled over - when the... when the... oh, I could no longer even think of it. His other hand was entangled in my golden hair, which he stroked ever so gently. He whispered the softest and most tender words into my ear, his beautiful voice would usually have been a great source of comfort to me during this the most turbulent of times. Was it not my soulmate who knew the best ways in which to reassure me when things got the better of me? Nay, who else but Assef could have known the words to provide me with the boost that my own spirit needed when such pain threatened to rip me asunder?

But indeed, in this moment, not even my precious brother could have soothed the terror that burned its way through me. Could have prevented the horrors that were burning through my entire frame. Once, my darling Assef would have needed to do no more than speak but a single word of consolation into my ear, and I would have believed him. I would have known in that instance that everything would surely have been okay. But now, as he whispered, "It's alright, Liebchen, it's going to be alright, I swear" over and over again, as his own voice trembled, despite how much he had tried to keep it from being noticeable, oh how it was. My brother and I knew each other's emotions as well as we knew our own; it had always been so. And I knew that my other half was just as torn up inside by what had happened today as I was.

Not, of course, out of any shame or guilt for the pain that he had caused to our mother. I knew that Assef would have felt no true empathy for Tanya - even now, it was blatantly obvious by the daggers that his eyes kept shooting in her direction, that were it not for his understanding of how bad a choice it would have been to do so, and if I had not needed him more than his rage did, he would have allowed his temper to be wrenched forth from him again, and resumed his attack upon our mother. As I closed my eyes, I saw him there, in the back of my mind's eye, fists against Tanya's exposed face, once, twice, three times. Again and again. Her eyes widening in horror as he had launched himself on top of her, the sound of her body colliding against the kitchen floor, how she had tried desperately to protect herself from his onslaught.

It reminded me, in part, of how Mojdeh had fought against us when we had attacked her. Of the power that had flown through my veins and made me feel as if I had been a god come down from on high to impart my vengeance on the unworthy masses. How long that felt now, so very long ago. A time in which I'd had control over my own destiny, in which there had been hope. But now, there was no hope, not a shred of it. Not the slightest inclining that such a broken folly that was 'hope' did ever exist, as if it had been naught but a lie that had spent so many years building me up, only now to bring me down, crashing right back to Earth.

What had I done? Dear God, what had I done? The horrific memory washed over me. Wali, with that blasted creature in his hands, stalking ever closer to me. That look of malevolence in his eyes as he took me by the hand, how my own body had failed to come up with some manner in which it could have, should have, protected me. The feeling of the lizard's claws as they dug into my flesh. Even now, as I stared at my arms through still-blurring eyes, I could see the faint indentation of the grooves that it had left upon my skin. My throat burned raw from screaming, every foul curse word that I had roared at the unsuspecting crowd committed not only to mine own memory, but surely to theirs as well.

The adrenaline was gone now, having left me as quickly as it came. Now replaced with little more than the abject terror that I felt for what would happen to us next. That, and of course, the shame and remorse for having put my most beloved Assef through this. He would not, I reminded myself, have even thought about attacking Tanya had it not been for the fact that he was trying to defend you. That he was attempting to protect you from her wrath. A wrath that you, stupid bitch, brought down upon yourself. Another low moan of pain and sorrow gripped me, letting itself out by way of a deep whine.

Assef pressed his lips to the side of my head. "It's alright, Liebchen," he whispered again, "I've got you, you're safe. Please, please don't cry. Please don't. It's all over now. You are perfectly safe, here in my arms, where nothing can ever hurt you again." But which of us was he truly trying to convince with those words? Me... or himself? Did he not realise the danger that we were now in? The danger that I had wrought for us? Was his optimism in this situation so great that he had taken leave of reason itself? Or were these words but a lie meant to soothe the frazzled mind of his terrified baby sister?

"But..." I whimpered, burying my face into his chest again and hiccuping. "But... think of all that's happened, my brother, of all that... that I... that we... have done. In front of a crowd, too. Oh, how could I have been such a fool? Why did I have to go over to Wali and ask what he was doing? I should have more damn sense than that, but nooo, I have to be a fucking moron and leap into a burning volcano with both feet. And I've d-dragged... I've dragged you down with me, too. Stupid, Saria! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

I punched the side of my head with one closed fist, the other still clutching against Assef's shirt. The words "stupid, stupid" echoed through me, words that I spoke aloud through sniffles and whimpers. How deeply did I hate myself, how gravely did my conscience berate me for everything that I had done. Assef seized hold of my wrist in his own hand, pulling it away from my temples and bringing them up against his mouth, pressing his lips tenderly against the stinging fingertips. "No," he whispered, "no, sweet sister, do not blame yourself for what happened. It was not your fault. Wali..." He gritted his teeth, enraged at the very thought of the disloyal cretin that had dared to cause such an emotional harm to his sweet sister. "I fucking told him not to, didn't I? Was I speaking to myself? No, he chose not to listen to me, and it is him who should have to pay the consequences for what became of his actions. You reacted out of fear, my love, out of fear alone. Nobody with sense could blame you for that, my dearest sister. Please, do not berate yourself. And do not trouble yourself for my sake. It was my choice to attack the bitch. My choice, and mine alone."

He looked over at Tanya, who was lurching unsteadily on her feet by the kitchen sink. Her hands quivered as she fumbled with the cupboard doors above her head. It took her about four tries before she managed to get them open. Once she did, she struggled about on tip-toe for a moment or two before retrieving several wads of kitchen towel, which she pressed against her heavily bleeding nose. "Ohhhh..." she moaned, doubled over into the sink, her hands grasping against the ceramic. The blood poured its way down the drain, disappearing into the blackness. She swayed from left to right, and I wondered if she might collapse herself into a dead faint. But it was not her for whom my attention was now truly drawn to, no. It was my father.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, having now said his goodbyes and apologies to the last person who had made their way out of our most humble abode. And lo, how I wished that person might have stayed. How I wished that they all would have stayed, yes, even Ahtrai. I would have accepted to spend the entire afternoon in her presence, to take hours of her taunts and mockery, if it meant that I would have been kept safe from the rage that boiled its way through my father's entire body. A rage that seemed to fill him up from the inside out.

Mahmood Ahmed had never been a tall man - though of course to a child of my short stature, his frame always seemed that of a giant - but now, his fury filled up the entire kitchen with its presence. As this itself were a creature that lived itself independent of the typically stern but solemn man that I had known from birth. He stood there, his hands gripping the door-frame, knuckles gripping so tight against it that they had begun to quake, to turn a shade of white that did not match the redness that covered his face. His heavy breathing through gritted teeth mingled in with the sounds of my own whimpering, and of the continuous moans that came forth from Tanya's lips. He moved into the kitchen, his footsteps so heavy that he might have been wearing heavy boots rather than the neatly polished loafers that he had opted to don with his new suit. Thump. Thump. Thump.

There he stood, looking down upon all of us. His wife, hunched double over the kitchen sink, fresh red blood pouring from her nose and mouth, her face puffy and swollen. His son, that same son who had been the one to attack his own mother, sitting on the floor, a look of rage still burning in his own eyes. A look that spoke of how much he wished to cause far more pain to the woman than he already did. And me, Mahmood's youngest child, his only daughter. The daughter that he had referred to as his "ray of sunshine" mere hours earlier. Lying curled up in a tiny ball within her brother's arms, weeping soundlessly as she held tight to the chest of the one person in whom she prayed that she might have been able to find some solace. Mahmood stared down at all of us, yes, but I could not find within myself the courage to stare into the coal black eyes of the beast and thus returned my face to the comfort of my brother's shoulder.

For what felt like an eternity, the bitter silence did run its way through the kitchen once more. It was Mahmood who broke it. His voice came barely above a whisper. I had to strain to hear it. "Would somebody here be so kind as to tell me," he began, in tones that seemed, strange as this might appear, to be almost jovial - though I knew that they were weighted down with a bitter sarcasm, "just what it was that happened there?"

None of us said a word in response. What could we say? Who amongst us could come up with the answer that would have satisfied the question that my father had just asked. I could not have even told myself what had happened, and I had been front and centre to it all. I looked up at Assef, wondering if he might be the one to speak up. The one to try to defend us against the impending doom that I knew was about to reign down upon us all. But he merely shook his head, before returning his attention back to me. And Tanya? Why, she could not have spoken a word if even she had the words to speak with - the only noises coming from her being the low and twisted moans that escaped the back of her throat. No, none of us would have been able to properly answer my father's question, and therefore, I found myself wondering why it was that he had even asked it.

Was it a rhetorical question? One not meant to be answered? One that perhaps Mahmood might have taken it upon himself to find the answer to. Perhaps he was not speaking to us at all, but to his own mind? Trying to get himself to make sense out of all that he had seen, of all that we three - Tanya, and Assef, and myself - had done in this afternoon. Of all that transpired during this which should have been a perfect day. But there was no sense that could be made of it, no sense at all. How could there have been?

"I'm sorry," Mahmood said slowly, every word coming out through gritted teeth, "It appears that my charming and obedient family must not have heard me speak. For that alone must have been the reason that I have received no response to the question that I just asked. Maybe I was too quiet in my speech, nay? That would be my error, this I admit. So... I shall ask you all again, and perhaps you may hear me this time... WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD JUST HAPPENED?!"

His roar was so loud that it caused me to nearly jolt out of my skin. It was like thunder, his bellow, echoing through the kitchen, causing the window panes to shake against the walls. I let out a frightened whimper and tried to burrow myself further into Assef's arms, my hands pulling away from the fabric of his shirt to press against my ears, hoping against all hope that I might have been able to block out the sounds of my father's screams of rage. But it was no use. Assef tried to hold his own hands against my ears, but only for a second. Only a second, before he realised what a futile endeavour that would be, and he returned his arms to wrap about my quivering frame instead.

Mahmood caught hold of the kitchen door, gripping the doorknob within his shaking hands. He held it open for a moment, before slamming it shut with a terrible force. So great was it, indeed, that I worried the door might come loose off of its hinges and be brought crashing down to the floor, squashing us all beneath its heavy wooden frame. He punched the door, snarling like a rabid beast. Punched it again, the wood splintering under his fists. And again, his back turned to us, his shoulders quivering with unbridled ferocity. A ferocity the likes of which I had never seen Mahmood showcase before. "Damn it, damn, goddamn it, DAMN YOU ALL!" he screamed.

When he turned to face us again, his cheeks burned crimson with rage, his lips pulled back in a snarl to expose his teeth. "Three weeks," he began, spitting those two words upon the floor. "Three weeks I prepared for this afternoon. I laboured over which members of our community to invite, who I wanted to allow access into our home. Was I unsure of this? Of course. But I told myself, I did, that everything would be alright. With my lovely wife stood by my side, and my dutiful, obedient son and daughter, how could the town think of us as anything less than the most upstanding of families? How could they have believed differently? Was this not the image that I had tried so hard to put out to the world. What could possibly go wrong?"

That was what I had been wanting to ask, too. How indeed, had everything gone so terribly wrong? Had it been not only mere hours earlier that I had sat at my vanity desk, as Tanya stood behind me and affixed the pretty red-and-white headband to my hair, that same headband that now lay broken in two little pieces upon the kitchen floor, its sharp edges having caught the flesh of my palm as I'd fallen over when she had struck me. Since the first knock upon the door had come, and we had greeted our very first guests? It felt like a time that no longer existed, and that not even the bliss of memory could return it to me.

"I hoped that this might be an opportunity," Mahmood said, stalking further into the kitchen, "for the community to see what a good family we have. There were potential clients of mine here today, did you know that?" We did not answer, but he did not press the matter any further, so I supposed that he must not have been awaiting a response to this question. "Important businessmen that I had hoped might turn their employment my way. That this might be of benefit, not only to myself, but to all of us. I hoped that we might be able to make somewhat of a name for ourselves. That the Ahmed family might have gained ourselves some notoriety here in Wazir-Akbhar-Khan. Well, it seems that we have managed to do that, have we not?"

He roared again. "HAVE WE NOT?!" His temper surged to life once more. He turned to Assef and I. "THE ENTIRE COMMUNITY - ALL OF THEM - STANDING HERE AS MY CHILDREN DEBASE THEMSELVES IN THE MOST HUMILIATING OF WAYS! AS THEY MAKE SHAME OF THEMSELVES AND OF ME! LOOKING AT US AS IF WE ARE NOTHING MORE THAN MONKEYS IN THE ZOO, SHRIEKING AND CARRYING ON. FOR THE ENTERTAINMENTS OF THE GAWKING MASSES! IS THAT WHAT WE ARE, HMM? A PACK OF WILD FUCKING ANIMALS? IS THAT WHAT YOU INSOLENT BRATS WISH TO BE SEEN AS, HUH?! SHALL I LOCK YOU BOTH IN CAGES AND PAY PEOPLE TO COME AND GAWK?!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. The blurring sensation was gone now, the migraine having been replaced with the terror that caught underneath my ribs and wrenched itself into my heart. Mahmood made his way over to the kitchen table. There he stood, for the longest moment, staring down at all of the cutlery, the newly washed plates, the jug of water that must have been filled up to the brim once more some time ago. Mahmood looked down at all of it, placing his hands against the edges of the tablecloth. He touched it with almost gentle fingertips, before he caught hold of the edges and yanked with full force.

"It seems we won't need these anymore, NOW DO WE?!" he screamed, pulling the tablecloth backwards. Down everything came, the plates and cutlery flying through the air as they clattered to the floor, pieces of ceramic shattering against the linoleum tiles. The jug fell onto its side, water and ice spilling out of it and sploshing onto the tablecloth. Mahmood pulled again, and down it came. It splintered into a thousand little pieces, each of which landed upon the floor with a resounding crash.

"My God!" Assef exclaimed. He lifted himself up slightly, still keeping a firm grip around me as he hurriedly moved backwards so as to avoid any of the debris hitting us. Mahmood picked up a tall, thin glass, and hurled it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. "Dear God," my brother continued in German, now having pinned us both in a corner, his own body curled around mine, as an attempt to protect me no doubt, from whatever wrath our father might seek to impose upon us. "Fucking hell, what is wrong with him? Calm down, man, for crying out loud! Just calm down! It's over and done with it now, does it matter anymore?"

My brother would not permit any harm to come to me, this I knew. Not if he could help it. But even then, I knew that our father's temper worried even him. It was something entirely new to the both of us. Something that we were not used to dealing with. I opened my mouth to speak, trying to think of the words that might assuage Mahmood's temper, that might be the saving grace by which I had prayed so desperately for. But no words came, the only noise from my lips being another terrified whimper. And besides, whatever I said, I knew that it was not going to be good enough. Not even the most eloquent of Farsi poets could have transcribed the words that might have assuaged the hurricane of rage that was Mahmood Ahmed.

He continued to let out his fury on the interior of our kitchen. Grabbing up plates and hurling them to the floor, pounding his closed fists against the table. "A DISGRACE!" he spat. "That is what they will call us now. That is what they will call our family. AN ABSOLUTE DISGRACE!" He drew back his leg and kicked a chair, knocking it over onto its side. All three of us just watched him, our eyes wide to the size of dinner plates. But not one of us, not even Tanya, who had always been united alongside Mahmood in all things, was able to calm him down.

Bile rose in my throat, burning it. I placed a hand against my neck, opening my mouth and poking out my tongue, wheezing. It was yet another panic that, of that I was sure. Assef took note of this and looked down at me in concern. "My love?" he asked, "my darling, do you need me to fetch the wastebasket for you?" He looked towards the shut cupboard door wherein we kept the small, wicker basket. "Do you feel sick, Liebchen? Do you need me to-" I shook my head before he could go on, still unable to get a word out, but I knew that I would be able to hold the vomit down. I buried my face into his shoulder again, as he rocked me back and forth, humming a low song under his breath. "I've got you," he whispered, again and again, "I've got you, my precious sister. I've got you. I've got you."

Alas, even he was not able to protect me as Mahmood turned his attention to us. "Saria," he cooed mockingly, then spat upon the floor as if my very name disgusted him. He looked down at me as though I were nothing more than dog's faeces underneath his shoe. "My dear little girl, apple of my eye, pretty, precocious little Saria, do your dear old father a favour and, please, tell me what it was that you were thinking? When you decided to behave in the deplorable way that you did this afternoon? Hmm?" I could not answer. Could not speak. "Oh, come now, child. You must have an explanation for it, and I would like to hear it. Answer me, please, I shan't ask you so nicely again!"

Speak, I told myself. Speak. You must answer him. You know that you must. He will not stand for silence, and you know it. Just tell him that you were frightened. That you did not mean to behave in the manner that you did. Tell him that you just reacted to having the lizard on your arm - beg for his pardon and mercy. Come on, Saria, you and your brother both depend upon this. Just speak, you must! You must speak!

But as I opened my mouth, and as my tongue clicked against the roof of my dry mouth, no words came. Nothing but another low groan. "I..." I started. "I... I... Uhhh... I..." It was all that I could get out, repeating those nonsensical sounds over and over again. I shivered, moving closer to my darling, who kept a firm grip upon me. But Mahmood would have none of this, and the fatherly countenance that he had adopted in that moment faded from him again, being replaced by that look of animalistic indignation that had twisted his features for so long now.

"ANSWER ME!" he screamed, making me jump almost a foot out of my skin. "YOU SPITEFUL, DISGUSTING LITTLE BRAT, YOU UNGRATEFUL GIRL, TO SCREAM AND KICK AND CARRY ON IN FRONT OF MY GUESTS, AND THEN TO HAVE NOT A WORD FOR YOUR FATHER WHEN HE DEMANDS THAT WHICH IS OWED TO HIM?! I WILL KNOW WHY YOU BEHAVED IN THIS WAY, DO YOU HEAR? I WILL HAVE AN ANSWER, AND I WILL HAVE IT RIGHT NOW!"

I burst into a fresh wave of tears, hiccuping as I stared up at my father, who raised his hand, as if he wanted to strike me across the face. But after letting it hang there for a second, he merely allowed it to fall back down to his side, slapping against his trousers. I whined in terror, yet was brought back into something a little more akin to coherence. "I..." I began. "It was... it was the lizard, Papa... the lizard that Wali ch-chased me with. I was frightened of it, and I... I... I..." I heaved again, then continued. "I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't. I didn't mean to... didn't mean for what happened. I'm so sorry, so truly, very sorry. Please. I was frightened, Papa, just so very frightened."

But Mahmood was having none of it. He laughed bitterly, a mocking cackle. "You know what?" he said, "forget I even asked you. I've changed my mind. I don't want to hear your explanations, your pitiful excuses. They do not matter to me, not one bit. There is NO excuse for the way that you acted today. No excuse for the fit that you threw in front of my guests! A lizard frightened you, you say? A tiny little creature no bigger than your own hand? That is what caused you to lose your senses?" He laughed again, and for a fleeting second, my terror was replaced with an anger that made me want to get up and kick every inch of mocking amusement out of him. "Is that what upsets my little girl so? A lizard is all it takes to turn my obedient child into a demon from hell? Why, I ought to bury you up to your neck in a pit full of those things and leave you there to rot until you learn to control your pathetic fear, ought I not?!"

I wailed afresh at this, the mere thought of Mahmood choosing to go ahead with his threat. Assef growled under his breath. But our father merely scoffed again. "Oh, shut up, girl! Your weeping does not move me. It was not weeping that you did when you had a crowd in front of you, was it? Oh, I might have been a tad more understanding was that the case. But oh no, you let loose a barrage of disgusting language that I do not even DARE to repeat. Screaming at the most prestigious people in our town, calling them the most horrific of names. Even going so far as to KICK one of our guests in the face!"

Wali deserved it, I thought, but did not dare to speak those words aloud. Mahmood continued berating me. "And what was it that you called him, Saria? WHAT were the words that you used to refer to him, right in front of his own mother, a MOST upstanding woman within in this community?" Son of a whore. "Why I cannot even bring myself to repeat them, it DISGUSTS me so much to even THINK of such deplorable language coming out of the mouth of MY daughter! You absolutely DISGUST me, do you hear? I have NEVER been more ashamed to call you my child!"

Assef growled again. Then, unable to stand there and allow for his most beloved Saria to be chastised in this manner, he finally opted to speak up for me. "Don't talk to her like that!" he barked. "Don't. You have no right. She was scared, she said so. She-" But he did not get the chance to say another word before Mahmod's temper flipped from being aimed at me, to being directed to him. He pointed an accusing finger towards my other half, his eyes almost ready to bulge out of his skull.

"Don't give me that, Assef!" he snapped. "Who do you think you are, boy?! Who do you think you are, to tell ME how to speak to MY child? To look down your nose upon me as I do what is but my duty as a father and give your sister the chastisement that she so richly deserves! Do you think of yourself as the man of this house?! DO YOU?! Do you think yourself the one to make decisions for the benefit of this household? Hmm?" Assef opened his mouth to retort, but Mahmood cut across him. "Oh, but it's alright for that sister of yours to insult and scream at the most distinguished folk in Kabul, is it? That's absolutely fine, but how DARE I speak even a word against HER? Is that what you're thinking, IS IT?!"

He clenched his hands into fists again, and I became terrified at the idea that he might lash out and hit my brother. I tried to place my body over his, to shield him from any crushing blows that might be coming his way, but Assef turned me away, shaking his head. Mahmood snarled. "But your sister is one thing, Assef. At least that was just foul language. We might have been able to come back from that, had it not been how you decided to react." He brought his hands up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, running his palms down his cheeks and over his neck. "To lay hands upon your mother. For such a thought to even CROSS your mind." He pointed a finger at Tanya, who had gathered up a new wad of kitchen towel, letting the other tissues fall bloodied into the sink. "LOOK AT HER, BOY! Look at what you did to your own mother! Look at WHAT YOU DID!"

Slowly, my brother raised his gaze away from me, and turned his face to our mother. I did the same. She looked an absolute mess; her blonde hair having come undone from the bun that she had tied it into, matted and tangled as it hung around her shoulders. Her hands were trembling as if she were in the midst of some sort of fit. There was purple bruising around her neck where Assef had torn the pearls from off of it. But the worst of it all was her face. Her right eye was swollen shut, the left bloodshot and watery. Her nose was bloodied, and I wondered if perhaps Assef might have broken it. Indeed, I hoped, in the darkest parts of me, that Assef might have broken it. She turned slowly to look at us, at these children of hers, we who had ruined what should have been a perfect day for her.

For what felt like an eternity, we just stared at each other, as if Mahmood no longer existed anymore. Then, Assef turned his attention back to our father. There was a coldness in his eyes, one that spoke volumes of the hatred that he still felt towards our mother. To the woman that had committed the unforgivable crime of laying her hands upon his precious Saria. She was fortunate, I knew, that all she had gotten for her atrocities against me was the puffy eye and broken nose that now stared back at us. It could have gone much, much worse.

My other half curled his lip into a sneer. "I see," he said. "I see what I did to her, Father. I see exactly. I saw it all the more clearly when I was hitting the bitch." His voice was rising, cold and ominous. His temper getting the best of him, as it so often did. As it had done earlier this afternoon. "As I'm sure she saw it, too, before her eye swelled up. But if you wish for an apology from me, you'll be hard pressed to get one, that I can tell you right now. You think I regret what I did? I don't. It was HER fault." Here, he pointed a hand over to Tanya, whose eyes grew wide with indignation. "She laid her hands upon my sister. Did you see that, Father? That fucking bitch had the audacity to hit my Saria, and she thinks that I'm not going to stand up for her? That I'm merely going to take that lying down. NO! FUCK THAT! Nobody puts their hands on my sister, not even our cunt of a mother!"

His words caused a shudder to flow through me. To think that his love for me was so great that even now, even in the midst of our father's rage, that he was willing to stand up for me. Not to be cowed in terror by the wild beast that stood before us, ready to charge. I wanted to sing his praises aloud to the sun and moon and stars - but even as I turned my face to look up at him, the whispers of gratitude being made ready to form upon my lips, another thought came unbidden to my mind. This one more frightening, one that I did not like to think of.

Oh God, I thought, Mahmood isn't going to like that. He isn't. He's not going to take that, for my brother to have spoken to him like that. He's already furious with us, how is he going to react now that Assef has talked back to him? Oh God, oh no, oh no! Oh my Assef, my darling, my light and love, I pray that your temper has not gotten you into even greater trouble! I will not be able to stand it if Mahmood decides to become violent against you. How could I be expected to sit back and allow such a thing to happen, when you defended me so fiercely?

But just as Mahmood opened his mouth to speak, no doubt with a sharp retort for my brother, Tanya got there first. She drew herself up, taking a step away from the sink, measuring footsteps as they approached. "I... I beg your pardon!" she spluttered, her eyes wide. "Did I hear you correctly? Are you blaming ME for this?" She was trying to sound unyielding and barbarous, to put up a united front next to our father, against my darling and I, yet before she had the chance to say even another word, Mahmood turned his attention on her.

He whirled around, narrowing his eyes into two tiny openings. It was the same look that he had been given to Assef and I, that one of untamed rage, and now he was directing it towards his own wife. That was so strange to me, to see him looking at her like that. To see the contempt that he felt towards her. He stalked towards her, causing the woman to flinch backwards. Mahmood caught hold of her by the shoulder and coerced her so that she was looking him right in the eye.

"I don't think now is the time for you to stand up for yourself, is it, Tanya?!" he asked. "Not when you had ample chances to do so earlier and put this entire sordid situation to rest. But no, you just stood there like a damn bump on a log while YOUR daughter threw a fit. Gaping like a stupid IDIOT while everyone watched Saria make an absolute fool not only of herself but of this entire family! Have you no shame, Tanya? Have you no respect for the honour of this family?! For the sanctity of OUR marriage?!"

Tanya tried to speak up, to defend herself, but Mahmood would not even let her get a word in edge-ways. "I told you, didn't I? Before we married, I told you what I expected of you?! When we spoke of the children that we were planning to have, I told you, point blank, what I expected from you as their mother? That you were to raise them to be dutiful, obedient and to ALWAYS behave in a manner befitting MY name. That it was down to you, Tanya, to ensure that they behaved themselves in a way that I find acceptable?! Was there something you did not understand in my words, Tanya? Did I not make myself clear enough to you?!"

"I... I..." Tanya began, spluttering much as I had been doing earlier. "Mahmood, I am sorry... I'm sorry... I..." Her back was pressed against the sink, tears running down her face. Mahmood had her pinned, his arms one on either side of her quivering frame, looming over her. Tanya's cries of terror and pain echoed against my own whimpers. She tried to reach up and place her hand against his cheek, as if hoping to elicit a bit of sympathy or compassion from the wrathful barbarian. "My dear husband, you know that I am your faithful wife. You know it. I have striven every day to make this home one that can adhere to your standards."

"EXCUSE ME? MY STANDARDS?!" Mahmood roared, causing us all to jump. He slammed an open palm against the kitchen cupboard right above Tanya's head, eliciting a shriek from her. "They are the standards of this ENTIRE family, WIFE, not just MINE! It is them which separate us from the common rabble, that allow us to be viewed as reputable members of this community. But I guess that I AM the only one here who cares about what this community thinks of us." Yeah, guess so, considering your children have already murdered one of its members. "I told you EVERYTHING that I expected from you as a wife AND a mother, and you couldn't even do that right!"

I gaped at this terrible scene as it unfolded before me. Never before had I seen my parents fight like this. If you could even name this a fight - Mahmood certainly appeared to be the one doing the most of the talking, while his poor wife merely cowered in terror from his wrath, almost on her knees by the sink. Her arms were up by her head in a gesture of protection, much as they had been when Assef was walloping her. Was she afraid that Mahmood might hit her? Had he ever hit her?! I had never seen him become physically violent with her before; usually the corporal punishment was doled out it was against my darling and I. But for him to strike his wife, it was almost inconceivable to me.

He punched the cupboard again, and Tanya moaned in terror. Mahmood pointed a stiff finger in my direction. "Saria's little temper tantrum there went on far too long!" That made my blood boil. Tantrum? Tantrum?! Was that what we were calling it now, when a child became so frightened that she could not think straight? Were we likening my panic attacks now to the same reactions that a bratty child had when denied a toy? I hissed in disgust, and Assef's grip around my body tightened. Oh fuck you, I thought, looking at Mahmood as he continued to reign down his wrath upon Tanya. "You should have stepped in and prevented things from getting to where they did, but oh no, I MUST be asking too much of you, to expect you to deal with your child. That you would end Saria's tantrum before it even started. That you would live up to the vows we spoke, to honour my family name, OUR family name, Tanya AHMED!"

Another sob of pain and fear from the woman. "What kind of children, what kind of ANIMALS did you raise? Your daughter stomping and yowling and thrashing about like a wild she-devil, and your son! Not only does he think it acceptable to hit you, but you didn't even manage to get control of THAT situation. No, instead everyone got a front row seat to watch as Assef decided to act like a complete hooligan and get into a damn wrestling match with his own mother!"

Turning to face my brother and I, Mahmood spat upon the tiles. "I have never," he said, his chest heaving, "ever, in my life, been more ashamed to be the patriarch of this family. Never been more disgusted than to stand in my own kitchen doorway, amongst people that I have spent SO MANY years trying to elevate our status amongst, watching as my son entirely lost his mind and turned this house into a goddamn fighting ring. As if we were nothing more than a pack of wild beasts!"

And what does that make you, I wanted to ask, looking around at all of the carnage that Mahmood had wrought. The fragments of plates and cutlery, the broken jug. The tablecloth - all of it lying upon the floor. If we are animals, then what does that make you, my dear father? Or is it one rule for you, and another rule for the rest of us? Hmm?

But of course, I couldn't say that. I wouldn't dare. I knew that we had gotten ourselves in far too deep already and that if I were to speak up now, that it would only serve to bring more trouble down upon us. I just kept clinging to Assef, my face buried in his chest as he whispered soft words into my ear. Meanwhile, Tanya attempted to calm down our father. She held out her clasped hands towards him, as if a supplicant in prayer, almost down on her knees before him. "I am sorry, sir," she said, "I am sorry for everything. Please, allow me to make it up to you. I will deal with the children, you need not worry about that. Just please, please forgive me."

Mahmood snarled. "Oh, you are correct on both those fronts, Tanya. You can BET that you WILL be making this up to me, and that you WILL be dealing with the children. And I swear to you that when I am done here, NONE OF YOU will EVER think to act like this EVER AGAIN!" It was at this moment that the Ahmed family's quaint little kitchen became the gates to hell and those gates opened, ready to pull me into their fiery depths.

I watched as Mahmood seized hold of Tanya by the arm. He pulled the tissue away from her bloodied nose and dumped it into the sink. She let out a gasp as he wrenched her back to her feet and dragged her over to the kitchen table. "Stand there," he told her. "You stand there, woman, and you do NOT move. Not an inch. Not a muscle. You will do everything that I tell you; no more and no less. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

Tanya nodded. Fresh tear tracks coated her face, and I wondered, in the back of my mind, were those there because of what Assef had done to her, or because of how her husband had been treating her. Or was it perhaps a mixture of both? Was she ashamed to have been scolded thus in front of her children? We who were meant to look up to her and respect her? I did not know, and of course, I would never get the opportunity to ask. She gripped at the edges of the table, sobbing when she looked down at the mess her husband had created. Mahmood walked away from her, stomping over to the corner where Assef and I had sequestered ourselves.

"Come here," he said. "Both of you. Get up and come here." We did not move. I for one was not about to go anywhere near that man, and I knew that my brother was of like mind. When we refused his orders, Mahmood became irate. "I said come here! Are you both attempting to be disobedient again, is that it?" He leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Do I have to drag you, little girl? Is that what you want?" I turned from him, burying my face into Assef's chest and weeping louder in terror, silently praying that he would not permit me to be taken from him.

But it was in that instance that Mahmood's temper once more got the better of him. "Very well! If this is the way that you wish to play it, then have it your way!" He put his hands under my arms and pulled, forcing me away from my other half. I let out a shriek, clinging to Assef's neck. He tried to pull me back, glaring at our father as he demanded for him to let me go. "Give her to me, Assef! You give me that girl right now. I am your father, boy and I WILL be obeyed! Now GIVE HER TO ME!"

With those words, Mahmood bent my other half's fingers back, causing him to gasp out in pain. I shrieked his name, but before he could regroup and grab for me again, Mahmood had caught me under the arms, lifting me into the air. I kicked and scuffed out against him, punching his arms with my fists, clawing at him. "NO!" I howled, "NO! GET OFF OF ME! NO! NO! NO!" We struggled then, just as Tanya and I had struggled. I managed to fall over onto my side, and began attempting to crawl my way back to Assef, who was reaching desperately for me. But our fingertips had naught the chance to touch before Mahmood bent down, caught me around the waist and started to drag me along the kitchen floor.

"Let go of her!" Assef cried out, hurrying forward, trying to wrestle me out of Mahmood's grip. I kicked and howled, roaring out more and more desperate pleas for someone, anyone, to help me. My brother caught hold of Mahmood's arms and tried to drag me out of them. "Goddamnit, let her go!" They struggled over me, neither one willing to let go. But it took only a moment of this before our father could handle it no more.

Raising his hand up into the air, he brought his open palm crashing down upon my soulmate's face. Assef's head snapped to the left, and I gasped, crying out his name. "Brother!" I screamed, then punched at Mahmood's arms, a rage unlike none that I had ever known before filling me to the brim. Was this what Assef had felt when Tanya had struck me? This urge to snap every one of Mahmood's fingers, to rip out the tendons from his wrists and use them then as a rope by which to strangle him. Oh, but how did he stand it? "How dare you?" I growled, "how fucking dare you hurt him! You ASSHOLE! You have no goddamn right, no goddamn RIGHT! NOW LET ME GO!"

I was wrenched up to my feet, dangling there limply in Mahmood's arms. He caught me by the hair, wrenching my head back, then leaned down to whisper into my exposed ear. "You are in enough trouble as it is, young lady," he told me, his breath a snarl. "And I have every right to administer punishment to your disobedient brother if I so choose. It is my right as your father, and you would do well to remember that. It would serve you well to recall your place in this hierarchy, because let me tell you, little girl, you are not so powerful here as you might like to think yourself."

More tears ran down my face. I looked at my other half, who had brought a hand up to press against his smarting cheek. What was to become of us? What was to happen now? What fresh hell would the Ahmed siblings find themselves in? I wanted to reach out for him again, but I feared what Mahmood might do if I did so. Would he hit my brother again? If he tried to defend me, would he find himself being the victim of our father's wrath once more? I would not have been able to handle the guilt if that had been the case. And so I merely hung there, limp in my father's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Wishing for some knight in shining armour that might have come with sword and shield to defend my brother and I from the danger in which we now found ourselves.

Of course, that was never to be an option. There are no rescues, no heroes come to save those in need. Mahmood turned me away from Assef and beckoned for his wife. "Tanya!" he commanded. She looked up, wiping her teary eyes. Barely a word had the time to come from her lips before he extended his arms out to her, full with the weight of his sobbing daughter. "Take her." He ordered. She did as he bade her, moving forward to catch me around the waist, holding me tight to her chest, much as she had done when I was in the midst of my earlier panic attack. And lo, did her grip now cause me to sob afresh, kicking and trying to punch my way out of her arms ineffectively with my tiny fists. "Do not let the girl out of your arms," Mahmood ordered.

Tanya kept an iron grip around me. "Don't, Saria," she ordered. "Do not move. Not an inch, not a muscle. Do you understand me, daughter? You will do as your father commands. Do not think that you can get any bright ideas about throwing yourself another temper tantrum, because it will not work, do you understand me? Oh no, not now, not this time." She tightened her grip around me, but there was a tremor in her voice. One that she was not able to hide, no matter how much she might have tried to do so. And I knew then, what she did not want me to understand. She was as frightened as I was of what Mahmood was planning to do. As petrified of his unpredictable temper, of the retribution that he was about to seek. But rather than attempt to protect me, she was merely doing what her lord husband commanded her. As if he were the master and she little more than his obedient servant.

It was at this point, upon getting confirmation that his wife would obey him, that Mahmood began to undo his belt. He opened the buckle, then slid the thick leather fabric out of the loops on his trousers. He folded it over, a snapping sound echoing as he doubled it. You didn't need to be a genius to know what was going to happen now. To know what was about to become of me. Of my brother, too. "Now," he said, "this is how things are going to go down. This is how I will wipe clean the slate, how I will have the compensation that is owed to me."

He faced Tanya, holding the belt out to her, though she did not yet take it. "You," he said, "are going to bend Saria over the kitchen table, pull that dress up and slide down her drawers." I felt my cheeks flush red in humiliation at the words, at the thought of being bared for all to see. "And then," Mahmood continued, as if he had not just spoken to those words. "You will put the leather to her. You will whip her harder than you have ever done before. Do you understand me? You will deliver her the punishment that she is owed for the disgusting manner in which she acted. You will beat every one of those curse words out of her, until she does not even think of them again, let alone of daring to speak them. I will let you know when to stop."

Oh no! Oh dear God! His rage was such that he would not tell her to stop until I had been made a bloodied mess upon the floor. Assef made to stand and go to me, but Mahmood pushed him back. He kept his eyes on my brother as he spoke now, though he directed the words to Tanya. "Then, my wife," he said, fixing my dearest with the coldest of glares. "When you have sufficiently punished our daughter for her own sins, you shall deliver to her another whipping."

I gasped, my eyes filling up with tears. Another whipping? A double-whipping?! He could not be serious, could he? No... no he could not mean this. He could not expect Tanya to whip me twice over. She had never done this, had never treated me with such cruelty before. I turned my face to her, tears welling in my eyes. Wanting her to see my face, to see her little girl, the sweet babe that she had held in her arms and fed at her breast. Please, I thought, hating how the words would not come to me, how they would not be spoken aloud. Please, mommy, do not let him do this to me. Do not let him control your hands thus that you might strike your only daughter. But Tanya did not even look at me. She simply turned my head away from her, as if she did not wish to see my face. As if it compounded upon her the shame that she felt.

"Yes," Mahmood continued on. "The second whipping that you will be delivering to the girl will be harsher than the first. This one will be the punishment for her brother's actions."

My other half and I stared at each other in wide-eyed horror. What cruel jape was this? What kind of monster was this man stood before me? Could this beast truly call himself my father? What was wrong with him? What in the name of God was the matter with this sick, sick bastard? "Father, no!" Assef cried out, scrambling to catch hold of Mahmood's arm. "You cannot mean... you cannot truly be serious, you cannot mean to punish Saria for what I did? No... no, that's not fair. She had nothing to do with that; I'm the one who made the choice to hit Mother. It was my choice, mine! You can't beat Saria for that. You can't!" His blue eyes were wide and he stared placatingly up at Mahmood.

Alas, Mahmood was in no mood for games, nor for begging and cajoling words. He took my brother under the chin, his fingers gripping tight against him. He bent down and turned Assef's head so that he was looking him right in the eye. "Let me get one thing straight with you, my boy," he said, "because I am getting sick and tired of having to repeat myself. This will be the last time that I say this to you. You do not, I repeat, NOT tell me what I can and cannot do. You do not tell me how to handle the discipline of my own children. If I wish to have your sister whipped, then you had best damn be sure that I will have your sister whipped, and if I want her to be beaten twice over, why, I am going to do that, too."

He leaned right into my love's face, but his voice did carry such that I was able still to hear every word. "You think that it is acceptable to strike your mother, Assef. You said it yourself. You feel no remorse for what you did for her. And you know as well as I do that merely delivering a beating to you will not affect anything. Will not help you to learn from your mistakes. I have known for a while now that such punishments do not affect you, son. But just as I know that, so too do I know what will be a punishment for you." He turned Assef's head to face me. "And it is this penalty that I shall give to you. You want to hurt your mother, boy? You strike her, and then you show no contrition for it? Then so be it. Your beloved little sister will pay the price for it. She will get your trashing. Every single lash meant to have been yours, you will watch as she takes it. And when all is said and done, we shall see then if you ever step a toe out of line again."

You are a monster! I wanted to scream, seeing the look of utter horror on my brother's face, seeing how he turned a sickly pale, how he looked at me with eyes that shone with the terror of having to watch me take his punishment. You are the most disgusting excuse of a man that I have ever known, Mahmood Ahmed. To call yourself a pillar of the community, and yet to treat your own children with such malice! With such inhumanity! Even I would not be so cold as to do such a thing to my own flesh and blood. What is the matter with you?! But of course, I would not be able to get these words out.

"Prepare the girl," Mahmood ordered Tanya. With an obedient, "yes, sir," she set me down upon my feet. She turned me to face the kitchen table, bending me forward at the waist. I began to cry again, silent tears rolling their way down my cheeks. Tanya leaned over me, pressing my stomach against the hard wooden edges of the table, my little body dangling, shoes barely touching the ground. A strange trickle on my hair as she pulled up the back of my red-and-white spotted dress - a memory then of the afternoon that we spent together, mother and daughter, buying this thing - and tucked it into the waistband. Then she pulled down my panties, down over my hips and legs, right around my ankles.

So utterly humiliated was I to have been bared such, my nakedness on display for my own father and brother to see, that I buried my face in the table, my arms outstretched in front of me, and sniffled, a fresh wave of tears rolling down my face and splotching the grooves. "This cannot be happening," I whispered, so low that even I had trouble hearing myself. "This cannot be real. It can't be. It is but a nightmare, Saria jan, that is all. A dreadful nightmare that you find yourself trapped within. But you will wake soon, dear, you must. Wake and be comforted in the knowledge that none of it was real. That none of the pain that you fear shall come to pass. It is but a bad dream, child, and thus it cannot hurt you."

Through my self-consolation, I heard my brother and father grappling with one another. Assef was trying to get up and go to me, but Mahmood's grip upon his arms was firm, preventing him from doing so. He kept shoving him backwards. "Get off me!" Assef was shouting, wanting to push Mahmood out of the way yet being entirely unable to. "Get your filthy fucking hands off of me, you bastard! I won't let you do this to Saria, you hear me? I won't fucking LET YOU!"

Another slap. I did not dare to look. Did not want to see what I knew already to be true. "The only thing that you are going to do is to stay still and watch, boy," Mahmood growled. "Unless of course, you wish for your sister to be beaten a third time, for your insolence right now?" No response. Mahmood paused, as if giving my brother the chance to answer, to weigh up the pros and cons of doing so. When Assef made no more attempt to fight him, he nodded. "Yes, I thought that you would see things my way." He stepped over to Tanya, pressing the thick leather belt into her hand.

"Now my dear, you may begin Saria's punishment for her tantrum. Remember that this will be your ticket to gaining my forgiveness for your own transgressions." He cupped the side of her face, a picture once more of the loving husband that he attempted to show to the world. "And do not worry, Tanya, I will keep a firm grip on our son just in case he decides to take it upon himself to be a hero again and go charging to his sister's aid." I turned my head to face my other half, saw the callousness with which Mahmood was looking at him, as if daring him to do so. Assef looked at me, mouthing words that I did not understand. An apology? An expression of his love? Was he telling me to be strong? I could not have told you, for how the fear permeated itself into my bosom and made it such that I was unable to heed even my own soulmate's words of comfort.

I trembled in anticipation. Tanya stepped behind me. She raised the belt high into the air, bending her elbow as she did so. It made an awful whistling noise - one that made me want to run. But then of course, I couldn't run, now could I? Not when my father would have grabbed me and brought me back kicking and screaming to face a harsher beating. I might as well have been anchored in place. All I could do now was wait. Wait for what I knew was coming. Wait for what I knew would happen, sooner or later. Wait and pray that it would not be so bad as my mind deigned to inform me that it would.

Tanya made a noise somewhere in between a groan and a sigh. She turned to look at Mahmood, for whom she was now, in this moment, little more than a glorified servant woman. He nodded. The belt whistled down.

Smack.

I heard it strike against my flesh before anything else. A loud smack that reverberated through the room, filled up my eardrums. A second passed. Then another. And another. Four seconds. Five seconds. Then, on the sixth second - came the pain. It was unlike anything that I had felt before, even other beatings that I had endured at the hands of my mother did not compare to this. To the brute force that she was using now, beyond any other that she had used before. I threw back my head and screamed, lurching forward against the kitchen table.

"NO!" I howled, trying to pull myself away. Tanya swung the belt down again, for a second time. It was made of the thickest leather, so large that it wrapped all the way around my little frame as it bit into my skin. My eyes rolled back into my skull and the world burst into an explosion of pain. Pain, pain, pain. So much pain that it was impossible to believe that a tiny child like myself would be able to stand it. I burst into more tears as Tanya swung the belt down for another stinging blow. Then another, then another, right across my flesh in quick succession.

Hit after hit after hit. The belt made that same whistling noise each time as it came down before lashing into my flesh. I screamed so loud that I thought my throat would burst. Thought that I would vomit. The pain - it was all that I could think of. The pain. So much pain. My legs screamed for me to run, to get out of here. My brain told me to fight back, to protect myself. To get to the one person in the entire universe who could defend me from what was happening now. To lock myself within the embrace of the only being in existence who could soothe and take away the agony that I felt now.

Assef.

I do not know on which lash that I screamed out my brother's name. Was it the fourth? The fifth? The tenth? I could not have said; for they all seemed to blaze together into one. All I know is that somewhere between in my misery filled haze, I cried out for him. "ASSEF!" I wailed, his name coming out as a shrill and deafening roar. "ASSEF HELP ME! PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME, BROTHER!"

"SARIA!" he cried back. He began once more struggle against Mahmood. With my head turned now so that I was looking directly at him, the side of my face pressed against the kitchen table, I was able to see that our father had pinned Assef's right arm against his back, and was grappling with him on the kitchen floor. The two of them appeared to have gotten into a wrestling match of their very own now - and every time our bitch of a mother would hit me again, my other half would struggle harder against Mahmood's grip. "SISTER!" he yelled, trying to get to me. He pushed on Mahmood's arms, managing to get up for only a nanosecond before Mahmood swept his legs out from under him and he went crashing back down to the floor again. "TAKE YOUR GODDAMN HANDS OFF OF ME!" he screamed. He looked at Tanya with a hysterical indignation. "YOU... YOU BITCH! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SISTER, DO YOU HEAR?! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!"

For a moment, Tanya froze. Perhaps worried about what might happen if Mahmood did not manage to keep hold of Assef, who was looking at her as if he wanted to bash her skull in and watch as her brains leaked out. The belt quivered in her hand. But Mahmood merely shook his head. "He is not going to be coming anywhere near you, Tanya," he reassured her. "Continue with the punishment."

Well, she did not need to be told twice. The belt came down upon me again, this time catching me right across the thighs. The howl that escaped from my lips was nothing short of inhuman. This was, no joke, the worst pain that I had ever felt in my entire life. I could barely drawn in air from one sob when another was breaking its way out of my mouth.. I cried out for my brother, again and again, screaming for him to help. To save me. "Please, PLEASE, do not let her hurt me like this! PLEASE!"

Tanya's breathing was coming in more ragged gasps. She was swinging wider now, no control over her movements. Hitting me not only in the rear, but also across the back of my thighs, and on at least three occasions, across the back. My toes drummed against the floor, slipping and sliding against the water from the jug. Looking over at my brother, I saw that Mahmood had now effectively pinned him down, both arms now twisted behind his back. Mahmood's knee was pressed into my other half's shoulder blades, and he could not have even moved an inch, never mind helped me.

On and on and on did the beating continue. It felt as if it would never end, as if I would be made to remain here forever. But then... I heard Mahmood giving Tanya leave to pause. She did so, lowering the belt against her side. "Ordinarily," Mahmood said, "this would be the end of the matter. Saria has been thoroughly chastised for her own part in what happened this afternoon. I would allow this to be an end to it, Saria jan, would show you lenience. But unfortunately for you, we also have to take into account your brother's foolishness. And now... now you'll have to suffer the consequences for it. How does that sound to you, daughter? For you to pay for what your brother did?"

I could not have given him an answer even if I wanted to. So far gone was I in the midst of this nightmare that I wasn't able to formulate a coherent sentence. All I could do was groan and sob. Mahmood wrenched Assef up to his knees. He caught him by the hair, pulling his head back and turning it so that the two of them were looking each other right in the eye. He leaned down right into Assef's face. "You will watch as your sister takes the beating that is owed to you."

"Father..." Assef groaned, his eyes welling up with the pain of having to bear witness to his precious Saria being hurt, and because of one of his transgressions. "Father, no. Don't do this to her. Don't let Mother do this to Saria. Look at her, she's had enough. Can't you see that? It was me who attacked Mother, me who tried to beat her up. It's me who should face the blame for that. Me, not Saria! Just let Saria go, please Father. Please, let her go! Punish me instead..."

Mahmood's only response was to glare down at him. "What do you think I'm doing?"

He looked at Tanya again. "You may begin the second whipping."

NO! I wanted to scream, but the word caught in my throat. Choking me. I brought up a hand to my throat, rubbing it, trying to force the word out. NO! NO! PLEASE NO! But while my mind shrieked these words over and over, the only noises that came from out of my mouth was a low groan of terror. I turned my face to look at Tanya, who had moved back behind me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at her, stared pleadingly, begging for her to show mercy and compassion - if indeed any of that did still exist within her for me. But all that she did was glare down at me, pointing to the table, gesturing for me to turn my head back.

As I did so, she raised the belt again. I flinched, tensing up in anticipation. Just waiting. Waiting for it to come down. Waiting for the pain that I knew was coming. My fingers dug into the grooves of the table. And then... then it came. The belt slapping against my already bruised frame. I screamed again, my eyes rolling back into my head. The belt fell across my right leg, just under the back of my knee. Then to the left, in the same place. Another bitter howl from my lips. The pain... the pain... the pain... Oh God, why? Why me? It hurts so much, I can't stand it. It hurts so much, please make it stop! Please God, I can't handle this, I can't, I can't take it! Oh no, no, no!

Tanya swung the belt over and over. No pause. No letup. Not even a moment's break for me to pause and catch my searing, gasping breaths. One hit followed another, then followed another, then another. I screamed in agony with each hit, shifting from left to right in a desperate attempt to get away. But that was to no avail - every time I moved left, she swung the belt to my right. Every time I moved right, she swung the belt to my left. Tears flowed uncontrollably down my face; rolling down my cheeks and splotching the grooves of the table. I howled with each strike of the belt, but aside from my brother, who reacted to my screams by struggling to get himself out of the grip that Mahmood still had around him, nobody seemed to pay any attention to or care about my agony.

Indeed, as Tanya continued to hit me, and as the lashes became ever more fierce, a small voice piped up in the back of my mind. A voice that I did not want to hear - but that bade me listen to it regardless. One that couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Tanya was allowing her anger to get the better of her. If she really was using this second whipping as a way for her to extol upon me the rage that she had felt when Assef had attacked her. Did she understand that Mahmood was right, that this was the only way she could possibly make my brother suffer for what he had done? Was this more than just her attempt to gain forgiveness for her own transgressions?

Whatever the case may be, it was too much for me to bear. "PLEASE!" I screamed as she hit me again, another lash down to my thighs. "PLEASE, MOMMY, NO! NO, MOMMY!" I repeated that word over and over again, pleading for the woman to be moved to clemency, that she would see the suffering that she was causing to her baby girl. "MOMMY, PLEASE! YOU'RE HURTING ME!"

Stupid, I thought, she knows that she's hurting you. She knows, and she does not care! All you are right now is a vessel for the anger of your parents; for your mother's own pain at what Assef did and for the humiliation that your father thinks he suffered. You're not a person to either one of them right now - and you know that. You know that you shall be shown no mercy or forgiveness, not now!

As I heard the belt whistle through the air again, my entire body entered into fight or flight mode. I couldn't take it again, couldn't handle another hit. Crying out in terror, I scrambled up across the table, desperate to get away. Tanya leapt forward to catch me, grabbing me around the ankles. She attempted to drag me backwards, as I cried out for her to let me go. I wriggled out of her grasp, rolling off of the kitchen table and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. There I lay, in and amongst the broken cutlery, shards of ceramic in my hair. How lucky I was indeed that I did not manage to cut myself whilst doing so.

I curled into a ball, drawing my knees up to my chest, wheezing. "Saria!" Assef gasped, struggling to get to me. He punched at Mahmood's arms, snarling, yelling once more for Tanya to stop and let me go. Tanya moved to stand behind me again. She stared down at my quivering form, the belt clutched in her trembling hand. I stared up at her, tears rolling down my burning face, trying desperately to scramble away from her - to get to my brother. Had to get to him. He would protect me. He would make it all better - he would take the pain away; for this was what he always did. But before I could even move another inch, Mahmood called out to Tanya, a sternness in his tone.

"You're not done yet, wife," he said. "I have not told you to stop, now have I?" She shook her head, bringing up the arm that was not holding the belt to wipe at her eyes. Those tears that ran down her face, who were they for? Were they out of guilt for the pain that she was causing to me? Or... and this was probably the more likely scenario, were those tears because she had failed in her marriage? Were they for herself? You do not need to be a genius to know the answer to that question - and if you may need another reason to believe that she held no understanding for me - her next actions should cement how terrible of a mother that she really is

She bent down, holding the belt firmly in one hand as she caught me around the waist with the other. I gasped as I found myself being pulled out of the shards of glass, and into the middle of the kitchen. Tanya bent me over the crook of her arm, keeping a firm grip around me with one hand, while the other fumbled with the back of my skirt. She muttered a German swear word under her breath as she flipped my dress up again, as I lay there, sobbing. Then, she raised the belt and began to lay into me again.

The belt came down repeatedly, as I thrashed about in my mother's arms in an attempt to get away. I was too far gone to even plead for her to stop; I was unable to get the words out. Bile rose within me and I began to retch, a thin line of drool coming out of my mouth and coating my chin. Tears and mucus dripped from out of my eyes and nose, dripping onto the kitchen floor.

My other half continued fighting against Mahmood, who was holding him down on his knees, one arm keeping his hands behind his back, while the other wrapped over his neck, not giving him even an inch of movement left for him to get to me. He yelled for me in sympathy each time that the belt struck my flesh. "SARIA!" he cried, as Tanya hit me right in the back, sending me lurching forward with such force that she had to scramble to grab hold of me before I could go toppling back down to the ground again. She grunted in vexation and hauled me so that I was half upright, striking me another five? Six? Seven times? I had no idea, as I said, it all blurred into one. Assef looked at me, the desperation and agony on his face was one that I never, ever wanted to see again. The pain in his eyes - the sheer horror burning in him at being forced to watch as his darling Saria, his Liebchen, the one person in the world that he had ever loved being whipped in punishment for his own crimes.

He looked at Tanya, reaching out for me, desperately, wishing that his arms were long enough so that he might be able to catch hold of me and pull me out of this terrible situation. The belt came down twice more. "STOP!" Assef screamed, "STOP, PLEASE!" But she did not heed him, even as he continued pleading with her to let me go. It was plainly obvious that he was not the one in control at this moment. That he could plead for me to all he wanted, Tanya was not going to let me go until such time as Mahmood gave her leave.

The pain was too much for me to bear. Too much for me to fight against. And so, I just gave up. I had no more energy left in me, and so I left out a low, desperate moan, before allowing myself to fall limp over Tanya's arm. Couldn't do it. Couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't fight. They had gotten the better of me - they were in complete control now, and I knew it. All I could do was just lie here and wait, praying and hoping that this would all be over soon. That Mahmood's rage would have been calmed, like a storm ending upon the waves. That he would see that my brother and I had suffered enough; that he would let us both go. When would that happen? Oh, please, let it be soon!

Eventually, after what was to me a limitless epoch of time, somewhere in the haze of my pain, I heard Mahmood telling Tanya that my punishment was over. That it had been enough. It has been enough from the moment she started hitting me, I thought. Tanya let the belt fall out of her hands. It hit the floor with a thud, one that told me that I would suffer no more pain on this day. She reached down, pulling up my panties again - I screamed as they came into contact with my bruised flesh. Then she smoothed the back of my dress down over me again. Then she stood back and let me go.

I swayed there for a moment. Unable to hold myself aloft on my own power, I collapsed onto my stomach, burying my face in my folded arms as I sobbed, wheezing and gasping for air. Mahmood released my brother, stepping back and getting up off of him. Assef staggered onto his feet, darting over to me. He dropped to his knees next to me, his hand reaching but not quite touching me - as though he were afraid to cause me any further pain. The agony in his voice was plain as day. "How could you do this?" he asked our parents, "How could you do this to her?!"

Mahmood arched a brow as he looked down at the two of us, a scoff escaping from his lips. "I see that you dance to an entirely different tune when it's your most treasured sister being slapped around, isn't that right, Assef jan?" he said those last two words in a tone of entirely mocking sarcasm. "May this be a lesson to you. I will not tolerate anything less than the utmost respect and honour being shown to me, and to your mother. We are owed respect as your parents, and I will make sure that you remember that, because believe me, son, if this is a lesson that I have to whip into your sister on a daily basis until you learn it, then you can bet that this will be what I do. Do I make myself clear, boy?" Assef nodded, and Mahmood continued. "You have disappointed me greatly today, all of you have. It will take a long, long time before you can earn back my trust. But for now, I am done with your chastisement."

He looked around at the mess that he had created. What was he thinking? Was he feeling ashamed that his own temper had gotten the better of him? With a sigh, Mahmood literally stepped around my quivering body, not even giving me a second glance. He leaned down, retrieved his belt up off of the ground and slid it back through the loops on his trousers. I wondered what it felt like -to wear as a mere accessory the weapon that had been used to beat one of his own family members. How could anyone who thinks to call themselves a pillar of the community and do such a thing? What kind of a monster was this man? And what kind of a pathetic wretch was Tanya, to have done this to me and not said a word in my defence?

Catching Tanya by the arm, Mahmood began to drag her out of the room. "Assef, take your sister upstairs and tend to her. I do not want to see either one of you for the rest of the night. You both keep the hell away from me." Yeah, that would be something that we could agree upon - if I never saw my father again, then I can say with certainty that it would be of no loss. "You have brought shame upon this family," were his parting words as he reached the kitchen door. He opened it, practically shoving Tanya through into the hallway; I heard her crying as she stumbled along. "Reflect upon that, and may you both spend the night in contrition for your execrable actions."

Having said that, he lead Tanya up the stairs. I could hear her weeping and sobbing uncontrollably, pleading with Mahmood to forgive him for her part in what happened today. Then their bedroom door slammed shut behind them, and I could hear them no more. Now my brother and I were alone. Both left numb with the raw shock of what had just happened.

Assef was frantic as he began to cajole me into a response. "Saria?" he asked. My name came out as a type of strangled, mournful noise. "Saria, my love? Can you speak to me, darling? Can you please, please say something? Please... Please... I need to hear your voice..."

I let out a low, hacking cough, wiping away the mess that had coated my face. "I..." I moaned, turning to face my brother, who was staring at me with his own eyes red and this look of disgraceful shame written all over his face. I tried to push myself up onto my elbows, but was unable to move an inch before collapsing back down into a heap of bitter sobs again. "Oh my God.. Brother... Did... Did that just happen?"

My brother looked down at me with tears welling in his own eyes. "We need to get you upstairs, Liebchen. Need to tend to your injuries. Here, wrap your arm around me and let me help you up, okay?" He tried to place his hands upon my shoulder to guide me back onto my feet. However, the instant that he made contact with my bruised flesh, I let out another bloodcurdling scream, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I desperately tried to shove his hands away from me.

"Noooo..." I moaned. "No, please... hurts..."

"I'm going to have to touch you to lift you, Liebchen," Assef said in an apologetic tone. "You know that. I can't just leave you lying here. But I'll be so gentle, I promise. Now please, please let me help you." Before I could speak again, he tenderly wrapped his arms around my little frame and guided me upright again. I cried out in agony, my knees buckling underneath me. Assef scooped me up into his arms, pressing his lips to the side of my head as he carried me out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He apologized to me with every step, as I sobbed from the agony that this movement was causing me. We reached his bedroom and Assef stepped inside, moving over to his double bed. He laid me gently down upon it.

Then he stepped backwards. "I'll... I'll go fetch one of your nightgowns, Liebchen," he said, practically spluttering the words. "Uh... where do you keep them?" I informed him which drawer in my room that I kept said items of clothing in, and he disappeared down the hall. I sat up, the room spinning as I rubbed at my throbbing temple. Every inch of my soul was begging for me to leave this mortal frame and go to some place where there could be no more suffering. Minutes later, Assef returned, holding one of my long, white nightgowns.

He passed the item to me, before locking the door behind him. I stared down at the nightgown, tears rolling down my cheeks. To his wonderful credit, Assef knew exactly what the matter was, without me even needing to speak another word. He moved closer. "Let me help you, my love," he said, "Please. Let me." I knew that I had no choice; I had to permit my brother to help me change out of my clothes - I was in no position to do so on my own. Assef pressed his lips to my head again, guiding me to stand. He helped me to lean against the soft bed sheets as he aided me in the removal of my dress. Balling it up, he tossed it to the side, then turned back to face me again. A low whistling sigh escaped from his lips as he gaped at the terrible contusions that had been left upon my body. "Oh my God..." he whispered, covering his mouth with his hands. "Sister..."

But he managed to quickly regroup and snatch up the nightgown from the bed. I was an incoherent, sobbing mess as he pulled the nightgown on over my head, letting it fall down to my ankles. I managed to kick my shoes off, letting them roll on their sides at the bottom of Assef's bed. Another hiccuping sob escaped from me, as I climbed back onto the bed, my entire frame crying out in agony with each movement. "Assef..." I sobbed, repeating his name over and over, laying there on my stomach with my head turned to face him, my arms stretched out, yearning for him to hold me. I would even face the pain that would come from being touched again if it meant that I would be able to have my soulmate's arms around me.

Assef moved towards me, each step weighing him down like lead. He gingerly sat on the edge of his bed, his hand hovering over my body. "Saria," he whispered, "Saria, I don't... I don't want to hurt you anymore than..." His voice cracked, and he moved his hand away from me, letting it fall back into his own lap. But I shook my head, moving myself as best as I was able to so that I was leaning against him. I needed him. Needed to feel his arms around me. Needed the comfort that only he would be able to provide me with.

"Please..." I whispered, tears running down my cheeks, "please, Assef, my Assef... I need you..." Assef moved so that he was laying beside me, pulling into his arms. The tears flowed uncontrollably down both of our faces, his own mingling into my hair as he pulled me close, kissing my forehead and rubbing gentle circles into my back. We lay there, intertwined in one another's embrace, allowing ourselves to let all of the emotions out that we were feeling in this moment. I clung desperately to the front of my darling's shirt, my body shaking violently with each bitter sob that escaped from my lips.

My other half wiped the steadily flowing stream of tears that coursed their way down my face, before doing the same for his own. But it was pretty much a useless endeavour as neither one of us were able to stop our emotions from getting the better of us. Assef was the first one to break the silence. "My love," he whispered, "my... my love... I can't fucking believe they did that to you. I swear, I swear to you, Saria, if I had any hindsight as to what would have happened, I never would have attacked Tanya. Seeing her beat you like that... Mahmood was damn right when he said that this was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. And I don't even want to imagine what it must feel like for you. I can't even begin..." He trailed off, lifting my hands up and kissing my wrists and fingertips again. "I can't apologize enough, my love, for my part in this. I can't... I'm so sorry. I'm-"

I cut across him before this self-debasing apology could go on any further. "Don't, Assef jan. Don't even think about blaming yourself for this. This was our parents' doing... their choice. Not your fault. I won't... I won't let... won't let you blame yourself for this." I nuzzled closer to him, reaching up to place my hand against his cheek. "You must promise me that you will shoulder none of the blame for what happened, alright? I need you, please." He nodded, thanking me for my clemency on the issue. I mustered up the best attempt at a smile that I could give, looking at my soulmate with all of the love I had in me. "I... I love you, Assef. I l-love you from the moon to all the stars."

"I love you from the moon to the end of the universe," Assef responded.

"I love you more."

"Not possible." With that, Assef kissed my forehead like he always did to finish off this little ritual.

Closing my eyes, I allowed the warmth of my brother's love to wash over me like a tidal wave of comfort, paying no heed to anything but the quiet, soothing whispers of his beautifully accented voice as he reassured me again and again that everything would be alright. That we would get through this, the two of us, united in this as we were in all things. And as sleep overtook me, and I drifted to a place where there was no more pain - at least for the moment - I knew that he was right. That regardless of how much damage had been done to our family dynamic as a whole, regardless of how much of a gaping chasm had been formed between us and our parents, and regardless of the fallout we would need to face, the Ahmed siblings would get through this... together... as we always did.


Thank you so much for reading! In the next chapter, the Ahmeds attempt to deal with the fallout of what just happened here. But as Saria copes with her physical pain, she finds herself trapped in a mental anguish that neither she nor Assef may be properly equipped to deal with.

I am going to be taking a two week break between these chapters, so please note that this is the reason for there being a slight delay between updates. With that said, I hope that you have enjoyed what you read here, and if so, please feel free to comment, rate, subscribe and let me know your thoughts! I send you all my love!