Forget Me Not // UmmeAiman
“Here’s your money,” said the squarely built businessman as he took out some notes from his extravagant coat and threw it at me. The same woman with whom, few minutes ago, he was enjoying to the fullest, ogling everywhere from her tender, well-crafted breasts to her silky lips towards her hard earning legs. He reaped all the pleasures he could both from the stares of his eyes and works of his body, that woman was now unknown to him. I felt it as I had been used but it was not the first time I’d felt such a way.
The notes landed by the side of the bed and I was relieved that I’d earned my bread for the next day. Soon, the door opened ajar and in a swift turn, closed back, the opulent lord of the lands covered his face and few moments after I heard his Rover thrusting in and with a ramble, there he went.
I’d been used, once again. My bodily juices were still on me, I laid there on the bed, motionless, my juices and his, drying on my body, I’d been used. With every thrust in me, a little of my heart dies, a portion of it perishes. I remember the first time I felt this sensation, the highest of the pleasures, I was pleased, I’d left my mother, my home, my dad’s strict rules, my mother’s aristocracies, the mores of their religion, which I belittled, I didn’t have to follow. I was then 16, Junaid, an army brat, my first love, son of a major, was kind enough to “fake” my kidnapping on my way to school, and there in his car, I felt it for the first time, the heavenly sensations of sexual connections, he banging in me, the pain and the pleasure, I enjoyed every bit of it. He used me for one year but after that very first encounter the love faded away. With every sitting, it lessened, with every kiss, the love drained. Now I know, it never was love, just his lust, sinful lust of which I was a victim of. Lust which destroyed me. Lust which disguised itself as love to take me to the heavens only to put me back in the deep abyss of hell. The lust, which is a sin, unforgivable. For all my love, the only thing I got in return was his lust.
“Ah, enough of this love, now wear your clothes and get up.” I heard it for the first time then in his inestimable Rover but then it became a routine. When all of his lust for me died, I, the same loved Sarah for him became a filthy harlot and then I found myself in the bordello, the red light district.
In my burqa, I was an atheist, here naked, I remember God. I’m a seller of carnal pleasure, by no means pure but after every time I’m used, I lay there on the bed, naked, remembering the God, which I once denied. I’ve been a victim of my own self, I committed a mistake but I was exploited and used, I’m someone’s sister, someone’s daughter, I was used, maybe even my family would not accept me but in this impure form, I pray to God. I pray whole night, until the door is opened once again and I’m, once again, victimized, once again, used.
“Do you want to say something else, Sarah?” I asked the beautiful blue-eyed girl in her mid-20s.
“No, I don’t” She said as she broke into tears. I sympathized with her and gently put my hand on her head.
“Don’t cry, soon you’ll be out of this hell.” I said, as I looked around the small room where she provided her services, if there were to be a hell on the face of Earth, it wouldn’t be so different from this.
I kept dandling her, comforting her pain. She spread her arms out and hugged me.
“If there are Junaids in this world, who use people, are cynical, negative and turbulent, there are angels like you. You’re a friend of God.” She said, sobbing in between.
“I’m a mere man” I said to her.
“But I’m going to spread your story to the world, I’m going to show the nefarious faces of these villainous land lords to the world. Now get up my sister, you’ve got to do it one last time.” I added.
“We’ve got to record tonight’s happening for the evidence and then we can raid. Just stay courageous and it’ll be all done.” I told her as I wiped tears off her cheeks.
“I don’t feel good about it, I don’t know.” She said her eyes downcast.
“Just stay strong and you’ll be out along with your partners; the other girls.” I said.
“My team has planted cameras and microphones in the room, just stay calm and it’ll be okay.” I shook her hand and got up from her bed. I opened the door and stepped outside but a voice stopped me.
“May Allah ease my pain” Sarah said.
“Through his blessings, He will.” I turned back, glancing at the blue-eyes girl assuring her.
A few minutes later, I found myself in my team’s van, looking at the scenes in the brothel. I could see on my screen that Sarah was praying to God, it first time in my life I’d seen a prostrating prostitute. The microphones were running just enough, enabling me to hear her whispers to God.
Soon a Rover, the official car of these corrupt elites, pulled up in the driveway. A siren on the top, guards on the back, it looked as if we were dealing with some V.I.P. A tall, plump and pretentious man stepped out of the car, wearing a suit of high gentry, he went straight to the bimbo of brothel and set the price for a nice lass. That bimbo sold him the praying beauty, Sarah, for an hour.
He walked, with his body erect, lust overbearing his senses to Sarah’s room. He opened the door and saw Sarah praying.
So, now God exists even in the brothels?” He asked sarcastically as if mocking God. As if God didn’t exist or as if he only belonged to the mosque.
“Yes, just not in your heart.” Sarah replied a hard look on her face.
He was enraged to hear that, his cheeks cerise and his eyes wide open from his wrath.
“I don’t give a straw about it, now get naked as fast as possible, I’m going to give you the meat.” He said as he kicked Sarah and stepped on the prayer mat. He stripped his clothes and so did Sarah. She laid on her back, opening her legs wide on both sides, inviting his muscular body to immerse in her.
I was seeing it all in the camera, Sarah was screaming from unwanted pleasure and the monster in the man’s body was moaning from the enjoyment, throbbing in and out of her, fingering her violently, making it as rough as he could have on the already broken lady. He was enjoying every bit of her like he deserved all of her, every inch, every part. It was all going well until he looked straight into the camera. I could see him staring at it and then, he stopped
“You bitch” he said as he grabbed the camera and ensured it indeed was recording and then, the camera disconnected.
I jumped out of the van and went straight to the brothel but I was yards short when I heard the gunshots. The man climbed off the balcony straight into the parking lot, I cried on the walkie talkie for my team to follow him and I ran towards Sarah’s room. Blood everywhere, she was shot in the stomach.
I grabbed her by the head and pressed her wound.
“I was used a lot, but now Allah has listened to me, my pain has been decreased, my suffering has finished. Remember me, my words, my story, my suffering, forget me not, forget me not. There’s no God…. but…” She said and had more to say but her life gave away. She had died. Sarah, a prostitute, a victim, a woman, a believer.
An hour later, a dead body was being carried out of that room, her dead body, Sarah’s. She had died a death in state of bodily impurity, being naked, covered in filth and blood but the purity of her heart, I’ve seen. It made be believe that our physical state doesn’t matter. It made me feel that the worst disbeliever can become the best believer. It made me believe there is a God, a God who exists in our good, a God who doesn’t care about what state our body is in, a God who is in our hearts, a God which is goodness, a God which is the voice of our heart, which we often hear, a God who says from within Sarah “Forget me not. Forget me not.”