Shattered

“Yes, yes, only if it pleases God,” Reem’s mother added, in the firm tone of a person with no reservations about their decision.

“It will only be if God wills.”

The telephone was replaced, and Reem’s mother nodded to herself in silent confirmation. The slight irony in her last words was unintentional, because Reem knew by the resolve in her voice that her mother thought no other outcome possible.

“Can’t you see this is good for you?” her mother half-whispered, turning towards Reem who was huddled on the opposite end of the sofa. The question invited no response and certainly no refusal.

Seeing her mother’s worn face, Reem felt a stab of remorse that she could not will herself to agree. Her mother’s eyes were tired and drooping slightly, and the tanned glow of her skin had paled. The years had taken their strain on her health, and even her once thick black hair was now lined with grey near the temples. Reem knew the fresher bags under her eyes, and the recent downcast look to come over them, were the result of anxiety about her daughter’s marriage.

She opened her mouth to make a comment, but how could you phrase such a rejection to be less painful? How could you look at your mother, at all the stress so visibly wrought up inside her, and drop your bombshell?

So Reem looked away and said nothing.

*

“Look at Miss!” A girl nudged her friend as they climbed onto the last seats at the back of the bus. A few others turned their heads and giggled at the sight of their teacher asleep on the opposite seat.

Reem stirred slightly, and knew from the increased noise around her that they were nearing the school. She was awake now, aware of the girls laughing, but kept her eyes shut. She would casually open them just as the bus reached their stop, rise and step away gracefully with her bags. They could have their laugh, but they wouldn’t see her true waking moment. And besides, it was quite comfortable resting her eyes and savouring the last moments of sitting in a warm seat.

“Take a picture,” someone whispered.

Reem’s eyes flew open and shot directly to the girl who had spoken. There was a collective gasp of surprise from her friends, followed by nervous giggling.

“Oh you were awake miss!” the girl stuttered sheepishly, an embarrassed grin playing on her lips.

Reem rolled her eyes exaggeratedly in mock arrogance and smiled, inwardly thankful she hadn’t missed her stop.

The bus pulled up on the Beavertree Road stop and the majority of passengers shuffled in the direction of the doors. Reem picked up her bag of untouched marking, questioning what had possibly made her think she could get any done last night. It was an illusion of the tired mind, surely.

A short walk led to her to the end of Beavertree Road on which the school was situated. Cars were queueing up to turn into and out of this road, and one driver was mounting the kerb to angle himself in. Reem knew she wasn’t officially late, and she would remind herself of this as she walked past the member of management standing at the gates waiting to start late patrol.

It was Domicella Fordhead, a tall scrawny woman with a bob of black hair that bounced as she greeted the children, none of whom responded. She wore black stiletto heels, ankle length trousers and a furry black coat tied tightly around the waist. Probably only just arrived herself, Reem thought. She walked past looking ahead but keeping Domicella in the corner of her vision in case she was greeted.

She wasn’t.

Reem turned the corner around the main school building and crossed the grounds heading towards the science area. It was a windy morning, and leaves were dancing across the path in defiance of the gardener attempting to sweep them into piles. The side entrance to the main hall was closed as she walked past. Two groups of girls were competing to sit on the same steps leading to the doors, and Reem stepped out of their way as they spilled over. The school was a large early 20th century building, with three newer extension blocks added during its transition from grammar to comprehensive status. A wide field expanded across the east side of the site, ending with a car parking space nearest to the science block. Reem instinctively glanced at the bell-tower clock as she passed the main building, the habit over-riding the knowledge that this clock hadn’t worked since last year.

She pulled open the gates of the science building, and then the double-doors leading to the ground floor classrooms. A staircase extended upwards to her right, and she decided to ignore the group of girls hiding quite conspicuously under it. The assistant head Cavin Buckle, who sat in an office overlooking this entrance, should deal with that.

It was Monday and a light day for Reem. She had two free periods, and as on every Monday, she promised to plan the next few days’ lessons in them. But it was a futile promise; the free periods disappeared in a flash, giving her only the time to conceptualise how much work she had to do. And this was the nature of school teaching, sucking you into a whirlwind of hectic days and long evenings until you focused just on surviving till the next holiday. It was only a passion for science, particularly biology, that Reem knew kept her in this job. When the plans for studying medicine fell through, she decided teaching was the next best profession to accommodate her love of the subject. But Reem had realised early in teacher training that subject knowledge was not always valued, or depending on the school even greatly necessary, in the political minefield education was becoming. Of all her roles and duties as a school teacher, Reem only truly enjoyed talking and thinking about science. There was also a large element of compassion for others that saw Reem through her teaching days, but her personality was not to admit or flaunt any merit in her character.

She fumbled in her bag for her classroom key, looking around to see if another teacher could let her in. There was no one; they were upstairs in the office savouring their last sips of tea before the bell. The head of science, Simon Colmer, had an infectious easy-going approach and was known for his ability to instil calm in the staff.

Reem unlocked the door and leant on it bodily to open it; the handle had been broken for some time. She flicked on the lights and dropped her bags at the front. It was a large rectangular lab with rows of desks extending down the length of the room. Trays of practical equipment were arranged on shelves lining the left wall. Small sinks dotted the edges of the room, and in the far end was a fire exit looking out onto a small stretch of grass. The school was fortunate in being spacious, but in a few moments her room would fill with her first class.

“Morning!” came a chirpy voice behind her.

“Hi Sarah!” Reem smiled before she turned, recognising the warm voice of her friend.

Sarah entered the room and headed towards the second table from the front. She wore a pastel blue blouse and a flowery knee-length skirt, and held a navy fur jacket draped over her arm. She was a caring, motherly soul, with a natural ability to a warm any room with her presence. Her face was split into a wide smile that seemed to light up her eyes.

Together they glanced at the clock on the back wall; both knowing there wasn’t much time to talk.

“Better let them in,” Reem rolled her eyes laughingly, and went to the door.

Sarah chuckled as she noticed Reem’s new display around the clock - a suitable message to those who begrudgingly asked how long was till the end of their lesson. Time is passing. Are you?

A Year 11 class bustled in, some delving in their bags for books as they walked, some visibly dragging their feet, others finishing conversations with friends outside. Sarah took her seat next to the girl she assisted, and took out her equipment in good example to the students. The notes she made for absentees would be copied slowly by the girls on this table, curbing their favourite complaint that Reem was moving on too fast.

The lesson progressed as normal for a Monday morning with this group. Reem introduced the topic and went through notes on the board, explaining them with her characteristic patience. Sarah had grown fond of this young teacher during her training the previous year. She had watched Reem grow in confidence on many levels, but her inherent passion for science had been present from the beginning. She looked at Reem now talking to the class, her petite figure exuding a sense of calm. Her hands were joined loosely in front of her, and she had raised herself on tip-toe to see a student at the back from whom she was gently prompting an answer. The girl finally responded. Reem nodded in praise and turned to write on the board, her long dress billowing about her ankles. She talked light-heartedly with the class, but Sarah could detect something playing on her mind beneath the composed appearance. She made a mental note to send her a text message that night. There never seemed the time for meaningful conversations during the day.

*

Reem crossed the road and walked home. A short driveway led to a block of maisonettes in which Reem’s flat was split over the third and fourth floors. The front of the building had residential car parking bays that were readily used by opportunistic locals living on near-by streets for free parking. She must commit to passing her driving test and buying a car if only to right this wrong, Reem often thought. Her family had moved here a year before her birth and in Reem’s childhood the home had been filled with her siblings. Now, ten years later, she and her younger sister, Maya, remained here with their parents; the elder siblings had married and moved out. Reem sometimes wondered how lonely her parents would feel after she and Maya did the same; three empty bedrooms, a long hallway, and relatively large sitting and dining rooms left to echo the memories of a once-crowded home.

She walked up to the door, simultaneously delving in her bag for the keys and ringing the bell. It was opened the moment she found her keys and a rubbish bag came flying out, hitting her knees and dropping to her feet.

“What’s going on?” Reem grimaced, stepping over the bag and into the hall.

She had stepped into a flurry of activity. Maya was sweeping the hallway, animatedly darting around two of their nieces who had been tasked with scrubbing the radiator. That indicated her two elder sisters had come round, and sure enough she could see Ruby hoovering the upstairs landing and Jasmine polishing sofas in the front room. Her mother rushed out of the kitchen stuffing milk bottles into a bin liner.

“What took you so long? You’re never here when there’s cleaning to be done!” Her mother shouted exasperatedly, throwing the bin liner into Reem’s arms. “Take that out with the other one, and quickly!”

“These need to be recycled,” Reem muttered under her breath, eyeing the plastic and glass content of the bag.

“They need to be thrown out!” Her mother snapped impatiently over her shoulder as she hurried back to the kitchen.

“Aunty, can we help you with marking?” five year old Lily asked, cocking her head with a knowing smile. She was tugging at Reem’s dress from her position on the floor. “I want to do the stickers again.”

“I could chuck that bag away and all,” Reem thought flippantly as she walked out with the rubbish.

The next twenty minutes saw everyone helping with cleaning in preparation for a visitor; even Lily and her six year old cousin Zara contributed enthusiastically by arranging the shoes on the rack first by colour and then by size. Reem soon realised who the expected guest was and her stomach tightened in slight anxiety. This was a supposedly eligible bachelor, admired by her parents, and as yet she had failed to explain to them persuasively that she was uninterested. Conversations of a prospective marriage had been taking place for a year, eased by the convenience that the families were related. And so Reem knew a sudden visit, without any other apparent reason, was a forward move.

She was begrudgingly plumping up the sofa cushions when her mother stopped to sit near her, now visibly more relaxed. “You know who is coming, yes?” she asked gently, patting the sofa to indicate Reem should sit next to her. “Why do you look so uptight?”

“I’m not sure of this Mum,” Reem began, searching for the most defensive reason to offer in the short time she had. “I just have a nagging feeling, something makes me uneasy —”

“There is no end to this type of thinking,” her mother interjected, but her voice was warm and the tender look in her eyes showed a deep yearning for Reem to come round. “He is mature and well-mannered, with a good reputation and we know the family. It is hard to trust outsiders, but with this one we have no need to worry.”

Her father was standing at the window watching for their visitor, and he turned now to look at Reem too. She was twiddling with the lanyard around her neck, her lips twisted into a nervous pout. “The two of you are suited,” he began slowly. “He is a sensible man, of marriageable age, as are you, and this will strengthen our family ties. He is handsome as well.” He gave a strained laugh, willing his daughter to smile.

“What about love?” Reem asked subtly. “There are hundreds of men like him, as there are hundreds of girls like me. How can I know he will love me enough to make this work?”

Her parents exchanged a knowing glance and her mother took Reem’s hand in hers. “Please don’t worry about such things,” she said gently when she noticed Reem’s hand was trembling. “It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t love you right now. What is love? It is not what they say in books and films. True love is what grows and deepens slowly over time. And that will happen with the two of you. He is not a stranger, Reem. He is my cousin’s son, and we would have known if there were hundreds like him.” She laughed awkwardly and squeezed Reem’s hand with affection. “You will see today exactly what we mean.”

The doorbell rang and Reem jumped up and darted out of the room in one movement. Her eyes prickled with tears as she ran up the stairs and into her room. Despite all her angsts, she had once again failed to dissuade her parents, and after today’s visit this would become harder. But when she pictured their hopeful faces lined with sentiment and concern for her, she knew exactly the emotions that would make a rejection difficult.

“When are we doing marking, aunty?” Lily had appeared at the door, an excited glint in her eyes.

“Sorry babe, we’re not today.”

“But you said I was your marking fairy!” she whined with her little face contorted into an adorable frown. Reem slowly closed the door, aware her hand was still trembling slightly.

*

Reem woke up the next morning twenty minutes after her alarm. She had a long journey to endure with the worry she might not make it to work on time, and on the bus she feigned sleep to avoid small talk with students. She hurried into the building and entered her classroom through the fire exit. Three year seven girls had been calling out to her since she stepped off the bus. Reem had shamelessly pretended not to hear, which made them run behind her, squealing with questions. She closed her door and animatedly pointed to her wrist to indicate there were still a few minutes before the lesson started. She had just set up when the bell rang, and the girls raced each other to enter.

“Miss I saw you on the bus today!” Someone screeched as they scurried in.

“What are we doing today? Is it a practical?” She could not even locate who was asking.

“Did you hurt your wrist miss?”

Reem drew a long breath and reminded herself they could not help their excitability. She used various facial expressions and exaggerated gestures to get the class settled.

“We are carrying on with cells today —,” she began, turning to the board.

“— Why cells?”

“—We did this yesterday!”

“—I don’t get cells.”

Turning round slowly, Reem put on her most appalled expression. The girls who had interrupted silenced, but she could see many others with their hands up eagerly.

“No one,” she spoke patronisingly, “should have questions at this point. No one.”

And so the lesson continued, and as always after teaching year seven, Reem reflected on the considerable patience of her primary colleagues who dealt with younger children. She sat in the office at break time studying the seating plan for that class, intending to break up the excitable groups. But a night of poor sleep and no breakfast had brought on a headache, and soon her head was resting comfortably on her hands.

“Has Reem run out of steam?” Simon teased cheerfully as he entered the office. Other teachers followed him in and took their seats.

“I’m trying to think of a seating plan that will calm year seven.”

“Order them good, bad and ugly,” advised Nicole, another year seven teacher.

“Do a seating plan like the Periodic Table!” laughed Sid, who taught chemistry.

“Yes,” Simon nodded solemnly, taking a seat on the only comfortable chair. “Then you can change it periodically.”

Reem giggled more than was necessary, but her mood had lightened. Soon she forgot about the difficult conversation she would have to have that evening with her parents. The rest of the day passed quickly, and Reem spent an hour after school catching up on marking. She was marvelling at how slowly she was getting through the pile of books when Kathy, who taught in the next room, came in.

“Hi love! Didn’t see you today.” Kathy drew up a chair and sat down. She had joined the school not long before Reem and they had struck up a friendship almost as soon as they met. Kathy was warm and naturally likeable with her charismatic persona. “So what’s happening with this cousin of yours?”

Reem smiled. Kathy knew of her doubts about this suitor for they had spoken about the situation many times.

“He came round yesterday, which in itself makes things quite official,” Reem explained, “And then he stayed the night. Can you believe that – staying the night!?”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No Kathy I didn’t want to see him. He sucks up to my parents so much it gives me the creeps. He’s calling them mum and dad already!”

Kathy raised her eyebrows. “Why did he stay the night anyway? Will he be gone today?”

“I don’t know,” Reem sighed. “I hope so. The longer he stays the harder it will be for me to persuade mum and dad against this.”

“Please don’t give in though,” Kathy said gently. “Not unless you want this. Your mum dad will eventually come round. But this is too big a decision to make to please other people.”

“I know,” Reem nodded but dropped her gaze.

“Have you told Simon any of this?” Kathy suddenly asked.

“No!” Reem looked surprised at the suggestion. “I’ve never told him anything about my family.”

Kathy shrugged. “I just think maybe he should know these things.”

“No, hopefully I won’t need to. I’m going to talk to mum and dad properly tonight. I need to make them understand.”

Kathy pursed her lips and nodded in support.

*

Reem walked home feeling agitated but purposeful as her mind raced with the reasons she could present to her parents for wanting not to marry this man. Mainly, it was the uneasy feeling she got whenever she thought about him. It was nothing specific that she could pin-point, but a strange anxiety that left her feeling troubled. She knew, however, that an argument based on vague sensitivities would hold little ground with her parents, so she would also mention her disappointment that he had made no effort to be friendly with her.

“Friendly?” her mother repeated irately when Reem brought up the conversation that night. “Which act of friendship do you want to see? He has been a respectful guest, showing manners that are unheard of in the youth of today,” her mother raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes with emphasis.

Reem suppressed a revolted expression. She had been unimpressed by the way her cousin grovelled to her parents, washing dishes, clearing the table, even sweeping the kitchen after dinner last night. She felt something insincere about his efforts, for surely he should prioritise the need for a connection with his potential wife more than with her parents. But until now, he hadn’t asked to talk to or even see her, though they had been under the same roof for nearly two days. Her mother threw up her hands in exasperation when Reem mentioned this now.

“How can he talk to you when you have been hiding away since he got here?” Her mother scowled in irritation. “I don’t understand what you expect him to do? Talk to you through the walls?”

Reem breathed a deflated sigh. It was true she had avoided their guest by staying in her room all evening and even missing dinner instead of sitting around the table with everyone. Perhaps her mother was right in that he could not be blamed for not talking to her. But a natural curiosity had made Reem listen to his conversations from a distance, and she knew with upsetting certainty that he had not so much as acknowledged her once. No effort to determine if they were compatible, no questions to find out anything about her; in short, no real interest.

“If there’s something about you he needs to know,” her mother hissed crossly, pointing to the door, “Go and tell him now. Otherwise, stop this childish behaviour. He has come here, been courteous to us, and that is enough evidence of interest,” she said firmly. “Think of how difficult you are being. Where are your manners?”

Reem turned away and sighed, this time with much frustration. Once again, she was failing to explain herself and once again, her arguments seemed inadequate against her mother’s logic. She felt her mouth dry up as it often did when she was stressed.

“You are bringing this stress upon yourself,” her mother whispered sadly as her face turned red with dejection. Reem felt a stab of guilt. Behind the impatience, she could sense her mother’s hopes for life to treat Reem well as she believed it would with this marriage. Her mother got up and left the room, shaking her head slowly as if trying to make sense of a complicated predicament.

Reem sat unmoving for a long time. Mixed emotions bubbled through her, creating a hopeless confusion in her mind that was as difficult to resolve as it was to shake off. Her instinctive feelings were clear: this man was not interested in her as a person, and it would be difficult to open up to him with the pleasant approach she knew relationships required. But then the doubts niggled in; her parents knew her better than anyone and this conviction of theirs must have a valid basis. Perhaps it would not hurt to trust their direction in a matter that was ultimately unpredictable – for they had the wisdom and life experience she hadn’t. For a few minutes she imagined being married to the man, but then found herself shuddering involuntarily, which led her thoughts back to their starting point. Suddenly her phone vibrated and she snapped out of her reverie to see a message from Sarah.

Did you get home okay? How’s your evening?

Reem spun her phone between her fingers as she thought of a reply. Sarah was aware of some of this dilemma but recently they hadn’t had the time to talk at length about anything. She pictured Sarah’s happy face and wondered how she would bring up such a grim topic.

“Are you coming down to eat?”

Reem looked up see her dad’s head round the door. He smiled when she looked up and shuffled into the room, taking a seat on the bed. Reem put her phone away as she turned towards her father.

“What are you thinking?” he asked gently, running his eyes over face. She was looking at her feet, her dark lashes like fans on her cheeks. A pink blush, brought on by anxiety, accentuated her youthful look. He reached out and touched her knee as he cleared his throat to ask an important question.

“Have you got someone Reem? You can tell us if you have.” His voice was soft with sincerity.

Reem looked up quickly with a mixture of bewilderment and sadness. A ghost of a smile played on her lips fleetingly before she sighed and regained her sombre expression.

“I wish I had,” she whispered more to herself. “That would be the best solution.”

Her father squeezed her hand. She saw a momentarily look of relief on his face before he looked away as if by the distraction of another pressing thought. After some time he got up and walked away, turning only when he was at the door.

“We can’t understand why you don’t agree. This is a good match, Reem. I feel it in here,” he said, patting his chest. Reem’s gaze followed his hand and she felt her own heartbeat quicken.

And then he closed the door and left her alone with the conflicting thoughts whirling through her mind.

*

The next day Reem busied herself as was easy to do on Wednesdays because she taught seven lessons back to back. On her way to work her mind had been riddled with the worry of how she could actually dissuade her parents, because their guest had stayed for the second night. She dreaded to contemplate the possibility that he would keep extending his visit until she agreed. But once at school she became absorbed instantly in the busy environment, and even surprised herself with the speed at which she could plan some lessons. She had strategically saved her lunch to eat at the end of the day, because she did not want to sit with the family and their guest for dinner. Her door opened slowly just as she sat down to eat.

“Hello!” Sarah called cheerfully, closing the door and entering. “I didn’t get a reply from you last night.”

Reem dropped her gaze as her mind wandered back for a moment to the situation at home. “Sorry,” she said returning to the present. “I just got a bit busy.”

Sarah drew up a chair and sat down. “No, don’t be sorry!” she smiled, “I just hope you’re okay.” She paused for a moment to give Reem the opportunity to lead the conversation. Sarah wasn’t one to pry, but she could sense Reem was worried about something and thought it may help her to talk. Just then, the door opened again.

“What are you two plotting in here?” Simon asked playfully as he put his head round the door. Reem and Sarah looked at each other and smiled; Simon often jokingly accused them of plotting when he saw them together. Perhaps he thought it an unlikely friendship between them, being as they were a generation apart. “I wanted to speak to you, Reem,” he said, standing courteously at the door.

“Well, I’ll see you later,” Sarah smiled warmly as she stood and replaced her chair. She couldn’t stay behind for long this evening, but she resolved to find time tomorrow to talk to Reem properly.

“Kathy has told me a few things,” Simon began when they were alone in the room. He watched a flicker of surprise cross Reem’s face as she realised the conversation was not work related. “About your parents wanting you to marry someone.”

Reem chewed her lip thoughtfully. She knew Simon to be a supportive and approachable. She had appreciated this when she joined the department last year, being new both to the school and teaching and therefore full of queries. But she had never shared anything personal with him before. She wondered how much he knew, and what his opinion would be.

As if reading her mind, Simon continued. “I think you should come up with some strong arguments against this,” he advised slowly, wondering himself how much she would reveal. “That is, if you don’t want it.”

Reem’s mind jolted back to the last conversation with her parents and she could almost hear their voices now, presenting her with their reasons.

“I don’t know what arguments to use,” she responded finally.

Simon nodded in silent sympathy, and Reem pondered how much he really could understand.

“You’ve just started your career,” he offered, breaking the brief silence. “There may be other opportunities coming up soon in the department. You could say you want to focus on that for a while?”

Reem smiled, grateful for the concern he was showing, but unhopeful that this would sway her parents. She opened her mouth to explain how determined her mother was, how sure both her parents were that there was good in this, and how the expectation that this marriage would go ahead was shared by almost all of her family. But the awkwardness of the situation stalled her. “Thanks, Simon. I will try that,” she decided to reply, trying to hide the uncertainty in her voice.

*

Sounds of laughter reached Reem’s bedroom as if to taunt her for her absence from the atmosphere the family were enjoying downstairs. Reem kicked her door closed from her position on the bed. She had stopped eavesdropping in the hope she would hear her cousin show any interest in her as he chatted away to her parents. This was the third evening of his visit. Reem could no longer suppress the worry that he planned to stay until she agreed, but she felt a stubbornness to refuse in equal measure. Her parents thought she was treating this without due seriousness, but in actual fact she had tried willing herself to agree and found simply couldn’t. She reflected on Simon’s advice to mention her career, but she knew her parents would find a way to persuade her that marriage didn’t have to prevent that.

She heard Maya coming into the house and walking up the stairs. Her sister was the only person in the family that shared her opinion of this cousin; she described him as poison.

“What’s he still doing here?” Maya’s voice was hushed but infuriated. She dumped her bags by the door and scowled in the direction of the front room. “What a creep!”

Reem raised her eyebrows and silently shook her head in a similar disappointment. She was tired after a very busy day, but she knew she must find the energy to try talking to her parents again tonight. “If only he would leave,” she said with frustration.

Maya’s face suddenly lit up. “That’s it!” she whispered, a bold smile spreading across her face. “We need to chase him out. Shame him. So he never comes back.” She chuckled to herself as the idea took root in her mind. “Shall I go down there now and disgrace him?” She pointed to the floor fiercely. “I can think of a good few insults –”

“Maya!” Reem shook her sister’s arm. “That isn’t going to help.” She appreciated Maya’s support, but shouting profanities and disgracing him would only hurt her parents and push them away. She had to get them on her side.

Maya shrugged and retreated to her own room, clearly still proud of her plan. Reem sighed. It wasn’t her character to rant and rave; she rarely had angry outbursts and had certainly never directed a fury at her parents. In this way she was quite different to Maya. She decided she was neither hungry enough to join their guest at the table nor to wait until he went to sleep, as he was likely to do for another night. She convinced herself that resting was just as beneficial as eating, and decided to go to bed early for a change.

*

Reem stirred in her sleep. Her door was opening, perhaps by the draught from a window left open somewhere. Her mother would check that before she went to sleep. Reem turned over and buried her face in the duvet. The warmth of her bed was blissful and she could almost feel her muscles unwinding with relaxation as her mind drifted back into sleep. Something made her turn again. A passing thought reminded her she should have eaten, but she wasn’t hungry. She was cosy. In seconds, she would be lost again in the comfortable sleep that was waiting to grip her. Something made her curl up and hug her knees. She stiffened, but still sinking into the depths of a dream. She flinched involuntarily, but still entranced by the sleep coming over her. Her conscience was lightening its load; her mind was ridding itself of stress and confusion.

Suddenly, Reem gasped. Her eyes flew open and a cold shiver ran down her spine as she realised she was not alone in the room. In fact, she was not alone in her bed. She recognised with a blind panic that her cousin had joined her, and his intention. Her mind was racing, imploring her body to writhe out from under his weight and get away. Her heart pounded more wildly than she would ever think possible, each adrenaline-fuelled beat infusing her with terror about the imminent attack. He was squirming too, silent and solid, an ambush predator positioned to pounce on a helpless prey. She screamed with all the might in her lungs, but why could she only hear her own heartbeat in her ears? She screamed again, a long unbroken roar, carried with frenzied breath and driven by cold dread. But inexplicably, the sound disappeared when it reached her throat, dissipating into the vortex of air that had suddenly appeared around her bed - perhaps formed by the flames of pain erupting inside her.

And then she stopped.

For it was done. In a matter of minutes - a virtue crushed, an honour robbed, a thousand naiveties shattered forever.

*

Reem lay flat on her back, her entire body stiff with a terror like she had never known before. In her mind’s eye she could not see beyond the flashbacks of what she had just endured. They spun relentlessly in her vision like a camera reel embedded in her brain. She felt tiny pressure changes on the surface of her skin, as if a ghost was bearing down and re-enacting what her mind showed.

She may have tasted insanity that night, before she finally fell into an unsettled sleep – and dreamt of glass shattering again and again.