The soft morning light slips through the small windows of their home. The wind carries the smell of the sea inside, cool and fresh. Birds sing gently on the rooftops, and the sound of waves can be heard in the distance.
Falak slowly opens her eyes, still half lost in sleep, her heart heavy with thoughts of the journey ahead. She stared at the ceiling, listening to the calm of dawn, trying to find peace within the storm inside her.
Her mother is already awake, folding a clothes and packing a few small things into an old bag.
"Falak, wake up dear… it's time," her mother says softly.
Falak rubs her eyes and nods. "Yes, Mom," she whispers.
Suddenly, a loud knock echoed through the house.
Falak's mother, walked to open the door. Standing there, dressed in bright clothes and heavy gold bangles, was Aunt Samra, a wide smile on her face.
"Hello" Samra said cheerfully, stepping inside as if the house belonged to her.
"Wake her up early today. Today is not just any day, and we can't waste time." she added with pride.
Falak's mother forced a polite smile.
"Yes, You're right! Today is not just any day, she's already awake just freshening up "
Without waiting Samra walked straight into Falak's room without asking.
"Oh, look at you, not ready yet? " she said, scanning Falak from head to toe like a judge at a show. "Hurry up, today Nawab Akhtar is coming. Such a big man, people in the village respect him. You should be thankful because you're so lucky, Falak. Not every girl gets this chance. Make sure to wear something nice. After all, he'll be your husband soon." She smirked while rolling her eyes.
Falak's hands froze as she folded her clothes. Inside, a quiet storm whispered:
"Lucky? They call it luck… but they don't see what it feels like to be sold in the name of marriage."
Samra turned toward Falak's mother.
"Get her dressed up quickly. I came to take her with me now."
"Samra," she said softly, "I'll bring Falak to the party later. She needs some time to get ready."
Samra raised a brow.
"Why later? I came to take her with me now. Everyone is waiting. It's a special day."
Falak's mother exchanged a quick look with her daughter, then forced a gentle laugh.
"Samra, actually the tailor sent her dress last night, but it needs a few stitches. You know how these tailors are, never get things done right. Let me fix it. I'll bring her a little later."
Samra frowned.
"You know Shujaat doesn't like waiting."
"It won't take long," Falak's mother insisted softly but firmly. "I want her to look perfect too. You go ahead, we'll follow."
Samra narrowed her eyes, clearly suspicious, but then she smirked and lifted her chin proudly.
"Fine. But don't be late. Today's a very big day for your daughter."
She walked out with her usual air of importance, leaving behind a heavy silence.
The moment the door closed, Falak's mother let out a shaky breath. She looked at her daughter with worry in her eyes.
"Falak, we don't have time. We'll leave now… before anyone comes back."
They both move quietly, careful not to make any noise. As they step outside, the air is cold. The sun has just risen, painting the sky with soft orange and pink colors. The village is quiet, only a few people walking on the streets.
Falak pulls her shawl over her head to cover her face. She doesn't want anyone to see them leaving. Her heart beats faster with every step. "I hope no one notices… I just want to disappear," she thinks.
The sea breeze grows stronger as they walk. The smell of salt and sand fills the air.
While Falak and her mother are walking toward the port, a very different morning is unfolding at Shujaat Ali's house.
The house stands tall and grand in the middle of the village, surrounded by a wide garden full of flowers. The golden sunlight makes the fountain water sparkle. A big party is going on in the garden. Businessmen in formal clothes are chatting, laughing, and eating. Waiters walk around with trays, and music plays softly in the background.
Nawab Akhtar, a rich old man with a sharp smile, stands near Shujaat Ali. They are talking quietly, but their eyes are serious. Samra, Shujaat's wife, greets guests politely, while Farah, their daughter, giggles with a group of young girls.
Suddenly, a man dressed in black leaned close to Shujaat's ear and whispered something. Shujaat's smile disappears. His eyes narrow. His jaw tightens. Then, slowly, a smirk spreads across his face.
"I knew it," he says in a low voice.
Nawab Akhtar raises an eyebrow. "What happened?" he asks.
Shujaat looks ahead calmly, but his voice is cold. "They're trying to run away."
By the time Falak and her mother reached the port, the sun was shining softly over the sparkling blue water. Seagulls circled in the sky, their white sails glowing in the light. People walk around with bags, some laughing, some saying goodbye, some starting new journeys.
Falak lowers her face even more, hiding behind her mother. "Just a little more… just let us leave," she whispers inside her heart.
Her mother buys the tickets quickly and holds Falak's hand tightly.
"Stay close to me," she says softly.
Falak nods, trying to stay calm.
Falak held her mother's hand tightly. Her heart beat fast.
"Don't worry, my daughter," her mother whispered, trying to sound strong. "Everything will be fine."
Falak's eyes stared at the endless water ahead.
"If only I could disappear into this sea… If only life would let me breathe on my own terms."
Just then, a voice echoed through a speaker.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there's a small issue with the ship. Please wait patiently. It will take around 30 minutes to fix."
Falak's heart sinks. "Thirty minutes… why now?" she thinks, her fingers tightening around her shawl.
Falak's mother squeezes her hand.
"It's okay," she says softly. "Thirty minutes isn't forever. We'll wait."
Falak bites her lip to stop it from shaking. She can feel time slipping through her fingers like sand.
"If they find us before the ship leaves…" she thinks, a chill running down her spine.
Falak looks at her mother with teary eyes.
"Mom… what if he finds us?" her voice cracks.
"Then we'll run again," her mother answers firmly, surprising Falak with her strength. "But today… we'll fight for your freedom."
Falak and her mother quietly sat on a wooden bench in a corner. People rushed around them, laughing and talking, but the world felt distant.
"Thirty minutes… just thirty minutes between me and whatever fate they've decided for me," she thought as a tear burned in her eyes.
The wind brushed softly against her cheeks. A small white bird flew above the ship, wings open wide. Falak's heart ached watching it.
"That bird doesn't have to ask anyone where to go," she thinks. "It just flies… it chooses its own path. I want that too. I want to breathe without fear."
She whispers to herself, barely audible,
"One day… I'll fly too, I don't know where I'll end up, but anywhere is better than here. I just want to be free. "
The ship still hasn't moved, but in Falak's heart, something already has.
The white bird circles above the sea again, its wings wide, cutting through the morning light.
"Hope doesn't always shout… sometimes, it whispers in the wind."