The Secret in her eyes
By Nicole A.
“The eyes are the windows to the soul”
But, could this be true? Can someone know who you truly are by just looking you in the eyes? The truth is that there is no such thing as a secret when it comes to the eyes. They show if we are cheerful, in love, miserable, annoyed or disillusioned. I’m sure that we all agree that there is certainly not a better feeling than the feeling you get when someone that you love looks you in the eyes. Where there is love bad things can’t happen. Secrets can’t be saved and stories can’t be concealed.
My name is Lailuma Marooch and I’m from Afghanistan. We all know, that for many people in the world, when the name of Afghanistan is mentioned their first thought is war, violence and death. They’re not wrong, not at all. My father was a common man, able to do anything for Allah. My mother’s parents decided to plan their marriage in exchange for a dowry of 15 cows. My parents didn’t love each other; they didn’t look at, talk, laugh, kiss or hug each other. To my father, my mother was only an object of sexual gratification and to my mother; my dad was only a man who funds her well-lived life. For some weird reason in the midst of all of their problems, I was born. Sure, my father would have preferred a boy, that's what all parents in Afghanistan want. Because of that, I always thought that I wasn’t good enough for him. That’s why I have been living this past 17 years of my life trying to do everything under my power to please him and make him proud of me. Sadly, I fear that will never happen. There’s one thing that he likes about me, my bright green and yellow eyes; that’s the only thing I got from him.
One day my mom went to the market when an attack happened. She died. I was devastated. Tell me, how would you feel if your mother went one day to the supermarket to buy ingredients for dinner and she never came back? I stayed for four days in front of the door waiting for her, but she never came back. My dad seemed indifferent of the situation. He wakes up every day at 4 am as usual to do the first prayer in the morning. One day after he prayed in the morning, he sat at the table where I was and said “Lailuma look at me. No matter what happens to you in the future, Allah will always be there for you.” I didn’t understand his words, not at that moment. Even though I hated my dad, something is his words intrigued me.
At one late at night my dad hadn’t come back and our donkey disappeared. Weird, I thought. Where that donkey did go? Soon I found out. My dad took our donkey, killed him and put some bomb inside of him to attack the United States Army. Horrible, is it? That’s my dad. The kind of men who I used to live with, not anymore though. He died too. The Army was looking for him for a while as one of the most dangerous men in here, they found him. Oh yeah, they did. The last thing I heard was that they killed him. I wasn’t sad though. I didn’t drop a single tear for him.
Now what? I had no house or parents and I was all by myself in here. I went to the streets with no money or hope. I honestly thought that I was going to die. One afternoon I was sitting in a corner of a street with my hand raised, begging for food or money. One man stood still in front of me. I begged him for some money or food at least, but instead of that he grabbed my hand, and said “Come, I have food for you.”
Blinded by the hunger I trusted in him, and grab his hand. I followed him to a huge black house with a yellow door. I was really scared. “Come on in, you’ll love this house and the food is delectable. Plus, I have a stunning dress for you that you’ll love,” he said.
Soon the reality hit me and I hesitated for one second. I mean I was going into the house of a complete stranger. But I didn’t hear my conscience and my hunger won over my intelligence. I went in; it was a gigantic and stunning house, with luxurious furniture and polished floor. I sat on a long table surrounded by other 5 girls. The table was full of different kinds of food and all types of juices and wines. “Go ahead and eat girls. You can take everything that you want,” he said. And that’s what I did.
After I finished my food he said that there was a hot bath and clean clothes waiting for me in a room. So I went to the room and I noticed that there were no windows, but I ignored it. As I’m taking a shower I thought in all the sacrifice that my dad made for Allah. I’ve been blessed, that’s what I thought. After all I went through Allah is finally giving me back all the sacrifice that my dad made. When I finished my bath, I got dressed with beautiful orange and green clothes, put some make-up on and also floral cologne and I went down stairs. “You’re here, wow! Look at you. You look completely different from the girl that I found out in the streets.”
But, after some time, some rich looking men started to come in. And after some time he asked all of us to walk in front and forth between the groups of men until one gave us a card with three numbers. “Ok” we all said.
But as I was walking around and these guys were looking at me from head to toe, I knew what this house was and what this man wanted me to do. As soon I realized it, I immediately freaked out and start crying and all of my makeup is ran off under my veil while I was cleaning my tears so no one knew. Soon it happens. What I fear the most. A man gave me a card with three numbers, 900, plus 100. What I guess was the amount of money that he was paying for that one night with me. I begged and yelled for help, but the fact that the man was forcing me seems to please him even more. I’ll never forget that night, because that day that disgusting man took my most precious gift in life, my innocence.
I woke up the next morning crying, begging for it not to happen again. After some time, the man who brought me to the house knocked at my door and came in into my room. “Thanks for last night. Thanks to your eyes you were the highest paid one in this building.” I didn’t make any sound as I looked at him with disgust.
“You see”, he said “I know that you need food and shelter, but girls only worth something to me when they’re virgins. They’re the best paid women in market. Only rich men’s and tourists can afford girls like you. Now you can go. Oh! And by the way, you can keep the orange dress. It’s broken any way.”
I couldn’t believe what my ears were hearing. I felt dirty and impure. That day I walked out of that place with a heart full of self-hate and shame.
Years passed by and I met a guy. His name was Amir. I met him at the market where I worked. Amir came for the first time looking for fruits but after that day he went every single day to my post to talk with me. One day he invited me to a coffee shop after work. Soon after the coffee came an ice cream and after the ice cream came a dinner, a long one, every single day.
One afternoon after two years he said he was curious about me and asked about my past. I didn’t answer as I looked down. I didn’t want him to know the things that happened to me in the past. What would he think of me? I was afraid of losing him. But instead of being mad at my silence, he lifted my chin while he said “You are like the lotus flower Lai; such a beauty growing in this filthy water that has become your home. Why would a magnificence hide in the mud?”
For the very first time in my life someone looked at me in my eyes with no disappointment, sadness, hate, filthy desire or wickedness. “Look deep into my eyes Lailuma,” he said. “I would like to erase the story behind your eyes and rewrite a new one within your heart.”
“The eyes are the windows to the soul”
But, could this be true? Can someone know who you truly are by just looking you in the eyes? The truth is that there is no such thing as a secret when it comes to the eyes. They show if we are cheerful, in love, miserable, annoyed or disillusioned. I’m sure that we all agree that there is certainly not a better feeling than the feeling you get when someone that you love looks you in the eyes. Where there is love bad things can’t happen. Secrets can’t be saved and stories can’t be concealed.
My name is Lailuma Marooch and I’m from Afghanistan. We all know, that for many people in the world, when the name of Afghanistan is mentioned their first thought is war, violence and death. They’re not wrong, not at all. My father was a common man, able to do anything for Allah. My mother’s parents decided to plan their marriage in exchange for a dowry of 15 cows. My parents didn’t love each other; they didn’t look at, talk, laugh, kiss or hug each other. To my father, my mother was only an object of sexual gratification and to my mother; my dad was only a man who funds her well-lived life. For some weird reason in the midst of all of their problems, I was born. Sure, my father would have preferred a boy, that's what all parents in Afghanistan want. Because of that, I always thought that I wasn’t good enough for him. That’s why I have been living this past 17 years of my life trying to do everything under my power to please him and make him proud of me. Sadly, I fear that will never happen. There’s one thing that he likes about me, my bright green and yellow eyes; that’s the only thing I got from him.
One day my mom went to the market when an attack happened. She died. I was devastated. Tell me, how would you feel if your mother went one day to the supermarket to buy ingredients for dinner and she never came back? I stayed for four days in front of the door waiting for her, but she never came back. My dad seemed indifferent of the situation. He wakes up every day at 4 am as usual to do the first prayer in the morning. One day after he prayed in the morning, he sat at the table where I was and said “Lailuma look at me. No matter what happens to you in the future, Allah will always be there for you.” I didn’t understand his words, not at that moment. Even though I hated my dad, something is his words intrigued me.
At one late at night my dad hadn’t come back and our donkey disappeared. Weird, I thought. Where that donkey did go? Soon I found out. My dad took our donkey, killed him and put some bomb inside of him to attack the United States Army. Horrible, is it? That’s my dad. The kind of men who I used to live with, not anymore though. He died too. The Army was looking for him for a while as one of the most dangerous men in here, they found him. Oh yeah, they did. The last thing I heard was that they killed him. I wasn’t sad though. I didn’t drop a single tear for him.
Now what? I had no house or parents and I was all by myself in here. I went to the streets with no money or hope. I honestly thought that I was going to die. One afternoon I was sitting in a corner of a street with my hand raised, begging for food or money. One man stood still in front of me. I begged him for some money or food at least, but instead of that he grabbed my hand, and said “Come, I have food for you.”
Blinded by the hunger I trusted in him, and grab his hand. I followed him to a huge black house with a yellow door. I was really scared. “Come on in, you’ll love this house and the food is delectable. Plus, I have a stunning dress for you that you’ll love,” he said.
Soon the reality hit me and I hesitated for one second. I mean I was going into the house of a complete stranger. But I didn’t hear my conscience and my hunger won over my intelligence. I went in; it was a gigantic and stunning house, with luxurious furniture and polished floor. I sat on a long table surrounded by other 5 girls. The table was full of different kinds of food and all types of juices and wines. “Go ahead and eat girls. You can take everything that you want,” he said. And that’s what I did.
After I finished my food he said that there was a hot bath and clean clothes waiting for me in a room. So I went to the room and I noticed that there were no windows, but I ignored it. As I’m taking a shower I thought in all the sacrifice that my dad made for Allah. I’ve been blessed, that’s what I thought. After all I went through Allah is finally giving me back all the sacrifice that my dad made. When I finished my bath, I got dressed with beautiful orange and green clothes, put some make-up on and also floral cologne and I went down stairs. “You’re here, wow! Look at you. You look completely different from the girl that I found out in the streets.”
But, after some time, some rich looking men started to come in. And after some time he asked all of us to walk in front and forth between the groups of men until one gave us a card with three numbers. “Ok” we all said.
But as I was walking around and these guys were looking at me from head to toe, I knew what this house was and what this man wanted me to do. As soon I realized it, I immediately freaked out and start crying and all of my makeup is ran off under my veil while I was cleaning my tears so no one knew. Soon it happens. What I fear the most. A man gave me a card with three numbers, 900, plus 100. What I guess was the amount of money that he was paying for that one night with me. I begged and yelled for help, but the fact that the man was forcing me seems to please him even more. I’ll never forget that night, because that day that disgusting man took my most precious gift in life, my innocence.
I woke up the next morning crying, begging for it not to happen again. After some time, the man who brought me to the house knocked at my door and came in into my room. “Thanks for last night. Thanks to your eyes you were the highest paid one in this building.” I didn’t make any sound as I looked at him with disgust.
“You see”, he said “I know that you need food and shelter, but girls only worth something to me when they’re virgins. They’re the best paid women in market. Only rich men’s and tourists can afford girls like you. Now you can go. Oh! And by the way, you can keep the orange dress. It’s broken any way.”
I couldn’t believe what my ears were hearing. I felt dirty and impure. That day I walked out of that place with a heart full of self-hate and shame.
Years passed by and I met a guy. His name was Amir. I met him at the market where I worked. Amir came for the first time looking for fruits but after that day he went every single day to my post to talk with me. One day he invited me to a coffee shop after work. Soon after the coffee came an ice cream and after the ice cream came a dinner, a long one, every single day.
One afternoon after two years he said he was curious about me and asked about my past. I didn’t answer as I looked down. I didn’t want him to know the things that happened to me in the past. What would he think of me? I was afraid of losing him. But instead of being mad at my silence, he lifted my chin while he said “You are like the lotus flower Lai; such a beauty growing in this filthy water that has become your home. Why would a magnificence hide in the mud?”
For the very first time in my life someone looked at me in my eyes with no disappointment, sadness, hate, filthy desire or wickedness. “Look deep into my eyes Lailuma,” he said. “I would like to erase the story behind your eyes and rewrite a new one within your heart.”