The sun had barely risen when I slipped into the backyard, searching for a moment of quiet away from Amir's suffocating gaze.
I sat on the edge of the marble fountain, breathing deeply, as if it were the first real breath I'd taken in days.
Suddenly, I heard light footsteps approaching. I turned—and there stood Youssef, wearing a half-sarcastic smile.
I sat there, trying to gather the shattered pieces of myself on the fountain's rim.
The air was stifling despite the vastness of the garden, as if every wall of the house was chasing me even here.
Soft footsteps sliced through my silence.
I lifted my eyes… Youssef.
His smile carried a mocking glint, like he had just discovered a new toy.
Youssef (in a fake cheerful tone):
— "So you're the 'pure one' they were hiding away… popping up like a surprise package!"
I smiled faintly. I had no desire to speak.
But he continued, almost relishing the chance to fill the void:
Youssef:
— "Honestly, when they told us a girl was coming, I pictured someone… you know… like Fatma, my cousin's daughter.
Long hair down her back, curvy body, moving slowly like a peacock!"
He laughed, a short, mocking laugh.
Youssef:
— "But you… you're kinda strange.
You don't really look like a proper girl… or a boy either.
You're something... in between."
A soft stab—not enough to draw blood, but enough to drain dignity.
I smiled a broken smile, hiding the tremble in my hands behind my back.
Inside my chest, Shady was screaming… kicking… desperate to break the cage we were both trapped inside.
Youssef (pressing on, merciless):
— "But don't worry... it's not a bad thing!
Some people like girls who aren't too girly… tough girls, who get us, fight alongside us.
Not like those crying dolls."
He laughed again, stepping closer.
Closer—until I could feel his hot breath brush against my face.
Every cell in my body screamed: Run!
But I stayed, frozen, like a stone statue.
Youssef (with a strange look):
— "But your eyes…
Your eyes aren't normal.
I don't know... is it pain... or a secret?"
In that moment, I couldn't hear him anymore.
All I could hear was the pounding of my heart, drumming like war inside my head.
I wasn't here.
I didn't belong to this place.
And when Youssef finally stepped back, it felt like my soul returned to my body.
Then I saw him...
Amir.
Standing at a distance, watching, like a wolf eyeing new prey.
His eyes were silent daggers.
As soon as Youssef walked away with his lazy steps, it felt like air slowly seeped back into my lungs.
I wiped my trembling palms against my abaya, trying to shake off the chill sinking into my bones.
Was this my future here?
Poisonous stares and words that slice through your skin without leaving a visible scar?
I didn't feel like the girl they claimed I was, nor the boy they wished I had been.
I was something caught in between...
Not resembling anyone… and no one resembling me.
"I am lost… trapped between the Sherry they want, and the Shady who screams inside me."
I forced my head up, making myself stand tall.
And suddenly...
A harsh voice tore through the silence, like a whip against my back:
Amir:
— "Sherry! Come here."
I froze.
It wasn't a call.
It was a command.
I turned and found him standing near the garden gate, arms crossed, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn't decipher…
A mix of challenge, contempt, and test.
I swallowed hard.
Inside me, Shady screamed: "Don't go! He'll destroy us!"
But Sherry… Sherry lowered her head like a lamb being led to slaughter.
One step… then another…
I moved toward him, my feet heavy, as if the earth itself was trying to hold me back.
With each step, I felt like I was giving up something…
Something small and fragile I had been trying to protect since birth.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to disappear.
But I just walked...
Burying it all under an abaya I had never chosen to wear.
I stood before him.
My head lowered slightly—not out of submission, but out of pure instinct, like bracing for a blow.
Amir (in a low, sharp voice like a knife):
— "Good.
At least you're learning fast not to lift your eyes to a man."
He looked me over slowly, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes…
A heavy, lingering gaze that made me feel naked under a burning sun.
Then he let out a short, mocking laugh and said:
Amir:
— "I thought you were more innocent than this…
Barely a week here, and you're already throwing yourself at any guy who smiles at you."
He smirked, a cold smile, and added, almost to himself:
— "I don't know why your father's so scared about the boys around you…
Seems we're the ones who should be scared of a whore like you."
Another stab.
I closed my eyes for just one second—just enough so he wouldn't see the tears glistening.
But I held myself together.
I had learned long ago that crying in front of wolves only invited the kill.
Amir (ordering):
— "Listen, daughter of Saber.
This house isn't a playground for silly girls.
From now on: no more laughing, no walking outside without permission, no clothes but the abaya...
And no talking to the boys.
Not even a glance."
He paused for a few heavy seconds, as if testing me again.
Then he added in a low, chilling voice:
Amir:
— "If I catch you laughing with Youssef—or any boy—
I won't tell Saber.
I'll teach you a lesson myself...
My way."
My lower lip quivered despite myself.
But I said nothing.
I knew…
Any word, any tear, any defiance would give him a reason to break me even more.
He stepped closer, until his voice was a whisper brushing my ear:
Amir:
— "Do you understand, Sherry...
Or should I explain it in more detail?"
I nodded silently, my whole being crumbling inside.
He backed away with indifference, whistling as he left,
as if I were nothing more than a broken toy tossed aside.
As he walked away, whistling his fake tune, I noticed something strange…
When he had said my name—"Sherry"—
the "r" had trembled in his mouth, as if stuck between his teeth.
A faint tremor...
But enough for me to see it.
For a fleeting second, I thought:
Maybe all his cruelty was a mask hiding a fear deeper than anything I could imagine.
But what good are dreams?
In this house, survival was the only law.
And not everyone who survives... stays alive.