Jannah

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Jannah walked quietly along the street that led to Sogo. It was night-time, and Kuala Lumpur seemed to have died. There was hardly a soul. Occasionally a car or taxi would pass by. She ignored the headlights as they crossed her body, casting warped and twisted shadows on the sidewalk and walls.

She just kept on walking.

Jannah held the bundle she was holding close to her body. Wrapped in layers of warm cloth, a tiny hand poked its way out. Jannah noticed this, and stopped for a moment to tuck the infant securely in the cloth. She gave it a gentle kiss on the forehead, whispering softly to the child.

Just as she was about to reach Sogo, she turned into a quiet alley, fearfully looking around to see if anybody noticed her. She walked deeper into the alley, and suddenly began to sob. Some of the tears fell on the face of the infant she was carrying, and she wiped them away.

Ya Allah forgive me for what I am about to do, she thought. I have sinned against myself, my faith, against You.

She stopped by near a dumpster that was against a wall. She looked around again, and, convinced that nobody was around, she began to lay the infant beside the dumpster... and stopped. It was dark in the alley, but in that darkness she saw the twinkling of light in the eyes of the baby. The baby had opened its eyes, Jannah thought. It, she thought again.

Suddenly compassion took over as she looked deep into the eyes of the infant. She sat on the floor, leaning against the dumpster and held the infant close to her chest. She sobbed hoarsely, hiccupping. She kept saying "Forgive me" over and over again. She kissed the infants' forehead, and it made an odd mewling sound.

Jannah slammed her head repeatedly against the dumpster, feeling that she should be hurt as penance for the sins she has committed. She slammed her head one final time, and leaned back, crying, praying to the God she has almost forsaken.

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Jannah was born some 24 years ago to a wealthy set of parents. She had a brother who was three years older than she was. As a child they had had everything they could ever have wanted. They were not close though.

Her brother grew up to become a renowned and notorious ladies man, and had at any given moment, a dozen girlfriends. Her brother, Ilyas, was the proverbial alpha male.

Meanwhile, Jannah had grown up spoiled and bratty, used to getting her own way. To her, there was no other way except hers. And as she grew, so did her beauty. Even her name meant 'Heaven' or 'Eden', depending how you saw it.

Jannah flaunted her beauty during her teen years, and, as her brother had done before her, began to sleep around. As a pretty young thing she found out that boys and, indeed, men, came in the scores, flaunting her, wooing her with money and luxuries. When she was fifteen she gave up her body for the first time to a 34 year old architect, and in turn she had received a brand new Rado watch. Her parents, being wealthy, never suspected anything. They thought the world of their daughter.

Jannah did not bother to study in school despite her above average intelligence. All she was concerned about were her luxuries and men. Then, when she had finished school, the oddest thing happened.

One day whilst their parents were enjoying a vacation overseas, Jannah found herself at home with just her brother. Ilyas at the time was studying Engineering at a nearby university. Jannah found him that day at the swimming pool of their multi-million ringgit home. He was doing laps. Jannah had trained her eyes on him, and suddenly was struck at how handsome her brother was. Absently she went to her bedroom and put on a skimpy bikini, and went straight away to the pool.

She flaunted her body to her brother. She did not feel odd or ashamed at all, just a sense of absentness. And it seemed Ilyas took notice as well. They talked for a moment, first like the siblings they were, but then more and more like strangers who stumbled upon each other at a bar. And though some part of her was saying it was terribly wrong, she found herself feeling delighted and excited each time her brothers eyes fell to her chest and her long, smooth legs.

She took leave from Ilyas, walking slowly and deliberately, knowing Ilyas was looking at her. She went up to her bedroom and began to undress. Her heart was thumping. Soon she heard footsteps and through her bedroom door, saw that Ilyas had come up. Ilyas paused when he saw Jannah looking at her. She was holding a towel up to her chest. She stared hard at Ilyas, even as he began walking towards her. When he came into her bedroom, they fell into each others arms, not one of them thinking they were doing anything wrong.

Their torrid, dirty affair continued from that day. They took turns sneaking into each others' bedrooms after their parents went to bed. Ilyas would come back from his classes early to be with his sister. Jannah did not at all feel guilty or remorse or disgusted. In fact, the more often they did it, the more she became aware of her brother.

Eventually she fell in love with him.

And then two years ago when Ilyas mentioned that he was moving into his own place in Kuala Lumpur, an apartment near Jalan Putra, Jannah immediately made plans of her own. She told her parents that she had gotten a job and wanted to live on her own. Her parents, clueless and adoring their daughter, had agreed.

In fact, Jannah moved into an apartment in the same building as Ilyas, and they continued their affair. Then one day last year, Jannah became pregnant. She had argued with Ilyas about it. Ilyas wanted her to abort it, whilst Jannah suddenly had an epiphany. Fearing for his reputation and the wrath of his parents' Ilyas suddenly fled the country, leaving his own sister and the mother of his child alone.

Jannah almost fell apart. She avoided seeing her parents and family, claiming she was busy. She cut off her ties from her friends, with the exception of the closest ones. Even so she told them that she did not know who the father of her unborn baby was. Day by day, as her belly swelled, the fear of God grew inside her. She began to question her life, and she began to realize the mortal sins she had committed.

The child that was growing inside her was her own brothers'. Jannah and her brother Ilyas had spent years committing an unspeakable act, an act condemned by religion and society alike. How could she bring the child into the world? But she has done enough, she thought. She will not add murder to her list of wrongs.

Then a month or so ago, she gave birth to the child. She had given birth alone, in HKL, with no one by her side. She had looked at the child, and had pleaded to her doctors not to take photographs or release statements to the public. The doctors had agreed. Then Jannah had taken her baby home. For a month or so she tended to the child, hardly leaving her apartment. She tried to contact Ilyas but to no avail. When she left her house she took the baby wrapped in the most concealing of clothes.

For the child was deformed. The infant had 6 fingers on each limb, but instead of hands and feet, they terminated in an odd claw like appendage, resembling pincers with three prongs on each side. The infant's forehead was flat, the nose missing; in its place were two flaring nostrils. The eyes were black slits, obsidian and depthless. The infant had a cleft upper lip. When the infant cried, the sound it made was cat-like, hoarse.

Jannah cringed every time she saw the child; but another part of her cared for it. Her instincts were at odds with one another. A part of her always wanted to just leave the infant and run; another wanted to stay and atone for the sins. So she spent a month in limbo, feeling that she was slowly growing insane.

Then today the infant had refused to stop crying no matter what she did. The infant, a female, had gone on crying until the night when Jannah, who was feeling mad and sad and angry, wrapped it up in bundles of clothes and went out with it. She could not take it anymore.

So she found herself beside this dumpster, holding her misshapen child in her arms. She cried, sobbing hoarsely, audibly begging for forgiveness from the Almighty. She looked at her baby again; she looked at the deformed face, and held the infants' claw-like hands. The baby seemed to be peacefully looking at her. Could she leave an innocent soul here to die, a soul borne of her own flesh and blood? Would she do it to save her self, sacrificing an unsullied life?

Ya Allah forgive me, she said in her heart, cradling the child in her arms. She looked towards the skies, as if hoping for an answer, but the skies remained as they were, dark, black as jet, and as silent as Death.

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