Free Path of Jen: Bloodborne by Sidney Wood

Fatima. She leaned her head against Najid and closed her
eyes. She was not interested in seeing the city. She just wanted to
find Jena and go home.
    Mahmoud and Fatima were waiting when they
arrived at the house. Fouzia could not help but cry again when
Fatima hugged her and sobbed how sorry she was. Just as she had
with Najid, Fouzia firmly told Fatima that it was not her fault.
Part of her wanted to shout at Fatima and blame her for being
careless and losing Jena, but she could not. She could not blame
anyone but the horrible man who had taken her daughter, and the
government whose blatant disregard for women made this sort of
crime so easy to perpetrate. Fouzia kept the last part to herself.
She knew it would only come across as insulting.
    When they were all seated, and each had
coffee or tea to sip on, Fatima recounted the details of her day
with Jena and Armand. She told them everything she remembered, from
the moment she awoke to the moment she saw Jena being taken away in
a taxi. She broke down crying often, and it was impossible for the
others to not join in. It was emotional and exhausting for
everyone, but Fouzia refused to go to bed until she had heard the
story several times. She wanted to know and remember every
detail.
    “Come to bed Fouzia,” coaxed Najid with a
whisper. She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and nodded. Fouzia
stood up and let him lead her up the stairs. When they reached the
hallway at the top, Fouzia asked, “Where is Jena’ s room? ”
    Najid sighed and pointed to the second door.
Fouzia moved his arm from around her shoulders and walked softly to
the door. She stood fixed in front of the closed bedroom door,
suddenly unsure what she should do. She was about to knock, but
caught herself and reached for the knob instead. The door opened
easily and she immediately saw familiar things that belonged to
Jena. Some of her clothes were scattered about, there was a brush
on the dresser, and her matching luggage was near the closet.
    Fouzia walked to the bed and sat down. She
gathered the clothes to her and smelled them. She held them tightly
and closed her eyes. “My Little Bird,” she thought. “If
you can hear me, I am thinking of you! I love you, Jena." She
lay on her side, on top of the covers, looking at Najid standing
solemnly in the doorway.
    “Would you like to sleep in here tonight, my
love?” he asked. Fouzia nodded yes and closed her eyes as fresh
tears streamed out of her eyes. A moment later, her suitcase was
next to the bed and the door to the bedroom carefully closed. She
was alone. “Are you alone too Little Bird?” she whispered. “Are you
frightened?" She put her hand over her mouth and cried quietly for
her daughter.
    Fouzia fought sleep, but it finally overtook
her.
    As she slept, she dreamed of dark alleys and
dangerous men with hot, stinking breath. She was a frightened
little girl, much younger than Jena and unable to speak. Her
parents were distracted and arguing about dinner when she was taken
by a stealthy man and swept away on a swift riverboat. They didn’t
even notice she was gone. Only one old woman saw her being carried
away to the boat, and she said nothing. She just smiled and waved
as if Fouzia was going on a whimsical trip.
    When the boat finally docked, a grizzled old
man with a bushy beard and curly black hair picked her up from
behind and carried her up a hill and into an alley between stone
buildings. There, in the darkness, he made her lie with crippled
and degenerate men who smelled like decay and filth. She felt an
unbearable pressure on her chest, as if the life was being crushed
out of her. She tried to cry out for help, but the pressure was too
great and she couldn’t make any sounds.
    Fouzia awoke with a start. It was still late
at night and the house was still. She was sweating and her whole
body was shaking. Frightened and ashamed all at once, she ran to
join Najid in the other room. She climbed into bed without a word
and clung to him