I couldn't say anything. I couldn't ask what was wrong. He moved away from me and put his elbows on his legs, putting his head on his hands.

"They beat her up every day she was kept" he said softly. I didn't dare to say anything cause I knew that if I did, he would stop talking.

"She was so weak, so broken" he continued. I just sat in silence. Who was he talking about?

"Her whole body was bruised and purple cause of the beatings" he continued in silence. It was like he was telling it to himself and not to me. I put my hand on his back to comfort him. I knew he was nothing but horrible to me but he was human too, he had gone through things too. I still wanted to comfort him. He needed it.

"All because of me.." he said. I was confused. What did he mean? He didn't beat her up, that was obvious. I wanted to ask it so badly but I knew he wouldn't answer.

"Why?" I dared to ask. It was then that he snapped out of his memory and looked up. He looked at me for a second before standing up. I stood up, grabbing his hand. I wanted to talk. I knew how it felt when people didn't talk to you about the things that hurt you. He just looked at me before pushing me, releasing his hand. I moved backwards and I was about to fall when he caught me. He looked at me with a sad expression before putting me on my feet, giving me the key and walking away. I didn't ask where he was going cause I knew he would get angry. I went inside and went to my room. Just when I was about to take my pajamas from the drawer I saw a book. I took it and saw a Qur'an. This wasn't my Qur'an, which my grandma gave me, this was someone else's. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years. I went to the bathroom and did wudu. Then I took a scarf and skirt and put it on. I took the Qur'an and went to the living room sitting down on the couch. My grandma taught me how to read the Qur'an. She was staying in my room till she died. My heart ached when I thought about it. Poor woman took half of my beatings. When she would stand up for me, my father would hurt her too. She couldn't do anything because she was old and sick. She couldn't walk and they took advantage of that. It hurt me every time I thought about it. I took a deep breath, shaking my head and started reading Surah Yusuf, my favorite.

I was at the half of the Surah when the front door opened. I didn't care and continued reading till I realized he could just take it from me. I said 'ameen' with a hurry and closed the book, hiding it next to me because I was scared that he might rip it. He came in and the smell of alcohol crashed my nose. He walked towards me and I felt fear creep up. He sat down in front of me, by my feet. He smelled disgusting of the alcohol and I saw the tears in his eyes. He looked at me with an intense gaze that made my heart soften for him.

"Can you.. can you please read again?" he asked and my eyes widened. He was full of surprises that night. I couldn't believe that he had asked me. He told me that he didn't believe in Allah himself, and here he is asking me to read him Qur'an.

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Final Editing Done: 23-09-2016