PHONE CALLS

The first thing she did with her phone was to call Amna. And as soon as her voice hit her ears, it reminded her of her old times. In a life where she was free. Free of paranoia and a constant terror. "Amna," Sheharzaad's voice cracked as she called her name. "Shehar," Amna's voice cracked too. "Are you... are you fine, Amna?" "Are you fine, shehar?" A tear left from their eyes. "I really want to meet you shehar. I miss you. I feel so alone," She cried out. "How-how is your treatment going?" "I-I'm recovering, Shehar," "How is Ahmed bhai?" "He is fine," "And-," "How are you, Shehar?" "I'm good as well, Amna," "No. Tell me, how are you?" "Living," Her lower lip wobbled, "Alone. Scared. Trapped," She sniffled, "I'm so scared to upset him, Amna," A sob formed in her throat, "I live in a constant fear. Day and night. Every moment. Every second," the sob streched her throat, making it difficult for her to speak. "Does he... he beat you?" "No. He doesn't. His presence alone is so terrifying.