Hijabi Refugee

This was not the life she had wished for herself, walking through a shopping mall trying to keep warm and looking for people's leftover food on benches. Luckily, because she was dressed in an abaya and hijab, most people ignored her and left her alone. She had been a nurse in Afghanistan to be a nurse, but she had been accused of flashing in sexually at one of the Doctors. It was a lie, but it was enough in that country for life to be in danger of being killed by her own family in an honor murder. She ran away so she wouldn't be killed and ended up being captured by people traffickers who had sold her into being a sex slave.

She had escaped them 3 months ago and had been living rough on the street in fear of being caught and taken back, too afraid to go to the police as she had seen police officers come and use the other girls for free and protect the gang that brought her to the UK. She had no idea what town or city she was in, knew no one in the country, could not ring her family, and had nowhere to go.

When she saw the police officers she had seen in the whore house where she had been held, she turned quickly; on turning, she knocked over this poor older man behind her and heard him fall on the floor with a thud. Hitting his head hard. The man's eyes were closed as much as she wanted to run; the nurse and the genuinely good person in her wouldn't let her leave in good conscience, especially since she could have hurt him.

She knelt, cradling his head, and asked him.

"Hey, you ok?"

In her broken English

"Yeah, I think so."

He replied, but he seemed to drift in and out of consciousness. She knew he needed genuine medical care; she looked around as if looking for help when one of those policemen spoke into his mic.

"Ambulance needed at Central Shopping Mall."

The other asked her, "Is he ok?"

"I think he may have a mild concussion," she told the policeman, terrified he would recognize her, or was it the fact she was in the hijab and abaya that he didn't look her in the eye and said

"Don't worry, dear. We have an ambulance on the way for your father."

She sighed under her breath, but she worried the man would tell the police she wasn't his daughter, and they would start to question her, and she would end up in that hell hole again. When the man lost all consciousness with his head resting in her wide lap, she was only short at 5 foot 2" with a thick frame with a 34DD bust hidden under her abaya with the most beautiful jet black long enough to reach her bottom not that anyone would know under these clothes with her light latte complexion and green eyes and the man in her lap was white male late 50s early 60s. The policeman had guessed they were father and daughter.

The paramedics checked the man over and took them both to the hospital. They waited in the hospital room for one of the doctors to examine him. After about three hours, he came around just before the doctor entered the room with the nurse to examine him.

"How are you feeling?"

Asked the Doctor. The man looked at the Doctor, telling him.

"A little groggy, but I'm ok."

"You seem to be ok, but you've had a hard knock to the back of your head. Since they bought you both, your daughter hasn't left your side."

The Doctor told him. The man looked puzzled.

"My daughter?"

The nurse whispered to the Doctor. "It must be the concussion."

The man looked around the room, landing on the girl. She looked at him with terror and a plea for mercy. He remembered bumping into her. He felt sorry for her; she had stayed to look after him. He smiled at her, looked back at the Doctor, and told him.

"Yeah, she is a good girl I'm lucky to have."

"You seem a little disoriented; besides that, you're in good health. Suppose your daughter is going to be staying with you. We discharge you and arrange for you to be taken home."

The Doctor told him. Leaving him and the young woman in the room. Once they were alone, the man looked at her and said,

"I remember you bumped into me."

Before he could finish his sentence, she begged him in broken English.

"I am sorry, Sir. It was an accident. I didn't mean to say I was so sorry, so please don't report me to the police. I promise I will leave once we get out of here."

The man held up his hands and said.

"Wo Wo, slow down, young lady. I am not going to do anything like that."

He could see she was scared and looked so frightened. The white knight came rushing to a damsel in distress's aid kicked in.

"Firstly, why did you stay here with me? We don't know each other; then you bump into me."

The girl breaks down in tears with her face in her hands, unable to speak; she sobs uncontrollably. He sits up in bed and puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, and she jumps back, falling off the chair, scurrying across to the corner and rolling herself into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees and holding them up to her chest and hiding her face into them.

He thought all I did was touch her shoulder. He tried to calm her.

"Hey, I wasn't trying to hurt you. I was only asking. I can see you're a good person. Does your family know you have been here all day?"

She continued to cry and shake her head. He was curious. A young Pakistani woman, he thought, was alone at this time, and no family was worrying about her. His life experience had not taught him this, so he asked her.

"Once my meds get here, we leave. You don't have to tell me anything or explain. Thank you for helping me when I fell over. You stayed with me to be sure I was ok."

He thought this might help her relax, and she seemed to stop crying. They waited in silence. It was nearly an hour and a half before they bought his meds, and once the nurse had finished explaining them, they were free to go. They headed downstairs to leave. It was late, just after 11 p.m., he asked.

"Would like a lift home?"

She just shook her head.

"Do you live far from here?"

This time, there was nothing; she just seemed to stare into the distance. He asked

"Are you going to be walking?"

She just looked at him, and he felt she had nowhere to go. This was all very strange. With a slightly louder voice, he asked.

"Are you walking home?"

She burst into tears again. This time, they weren't alone at the hospital exit, but a woman took her hand and asked,

"Hey, you ok? Is this man trying to hurt you, sweetheart?"

She looked at the woman and said

"No, he isn't; I have no one or nowhere to go."

The woman put her arm around her and led her back inside to some seats, and they all sat down. The woman asked.

"Do you want to tell me? What's happened, sweetie?"

She couldn't tell you why, but she poured her heart out them about everything that had happened to her and how she was now living on the street. They both felt sorry for her, and the man spoke first.

"I know of a women's shelter that helped with trafficked women. However, they would not be open till Monday morning."

He asked the young woman.

"I know you do not know me and have no reason to trust me. You can stay with me till Monday, and I can take you to the shelter the first thing Monday, or I can go with you to a Police station, and maybe they can help."

"No, no, not the police."

She seemed even more scared of the police.

"OK, OK, there are no police. Wait here with this lady, and I'll call a cab."

She found herself having to put her trust in a man she didn't know. He kept her secret in the hospital earlier. There was something that was caring about him. He not once looked at her as if he was stripping her with his eyes. There had only been care and concern in his eyes.

When he finally came back. They walked out to the black cab, and he let her get in first. She sat in the far corner of the backseat, still a little scared. He didn't want to frighten the girl more than she already was. He felt so sorry for all she had been through. He sat on the drop-down seat opposite her. He told the cab driver where to go, but they didn't speak to each other. It was a long drive, and she felt a little scared as they left the city and headed down country lanes. She had no choice but to trust him. After about 30 minutes, they pulled outside a huge house. See stared at the house as she walked behind the man. He held the door open for her as she stepped through gingerly, asking him.

"How many people live here?"

"Just me...."

Pausing, he added

"There is a housekeeper; she works part-time for me but won't be here till Monday."

The young girl looked worried again. He stepped back, with his hands up, saying.

"Hey, you're safe. I'm going to order some food. If you like, I can show you your room. There is a lock on the inside if that helps you feel safer."

Heading up the stairs, she followed a few steps behind and stepped away from the door, explaining the lock was just by the handle.

She locked herself in the bedroom and sat down, thinking,

"Have I just trapped myself or locked out a nice person?" "Who has kept your secrets and only been helpful?"

The fears of the past stopped her from letting her guard down.

She hadn't noticed the time passing, but there was a knock at the door. Her heart drummed faster in her chest as she held her breath. He spoke softly, remembering how fragile she was and the horrors she had been through.

"Food is here. Would you like me to bring it to you, or would you prefer to come downstairs so we can get to the dining table?"

"I'll be down in a moment?"

She heard him walking away. She quickly whipped her tears, stood up, and caught her reflection in a mirror she had not seen or looked at herself in a long time. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was unwashed for how long she couldn't. She didn't like the way she looked. She had always taken care of herself in the past. Now, even her hands were dirty.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard music coming from her left. There was a light on in the room to her left. Heading slowly and carefully into the room, she saw him sitting at a long table in a large dining room with his back to the door. She coughed to say she was in the room. He turned, getting up from his chair, offering it to her. He walked to the other side, opening the pizza box. He said,

" I didn't know what you would like to eat, so I ordered a veggie pizza. I hope that is ok?"

She nodded, and this minor consideration made her feel more at ease. He brought over a plate with a couple of slices of pizza and returned to his end of the table. They ate their food quietly. As they neared the end, he asked if she would like a drink. She nodded again, looking briefly at him.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please."

She replied she couldn't believe this bear-sized man could speak and behave so gently. She had never experienced anything like this, definitely not the monster who had trafficked her to this country. He returned soon with a tray with the drinks, sat it down slowly to her, poured tea into both cups and asked.

"Sugar and milk?"

"Yes, milk and one sugar, please."

She kept her head down, fearing backlash at any moment. It never came. This kind man moved the tray down to the end of the table and finished making his brew. He seemed to be doing everything he could to put her at ease. She kept peeping as she drank her tea.

He looked up from his cup and said.

"If you would like to shower, there is a shower in your room with fresh towels. I can see you have no other clothes with you. Some of my T-shirts and shorts are in the drawers; please feel free to help yourself."

She just smiled. He thought to himself,

"She has such a lovely smile. The poor girl looks like she hasn't done that in a long time."

He wondered what she might look like under that big, baggy abaya. Then, shaking his head, he told himself, "Stop it. The poor girl has been through enough; she doesn't need an old perv like you perving over her."

They finished their brew, and she looked at him very shyly and asked.

"Is it okay if I go to my room and rest, please?"

She didn't want to sound rude as he had been so kind. He smiled and answered.

"Of course."

She picked up her cup and plate, he said.

"It's ok. You can leave them there, and I'll pick them up."

"No, No, Sir, you have been so kind. Please let me clear the table."

She said this very timidly as she approached his side of the table. He smiled, nodded, and let her take the cups and plates on the tray. A few minutes passed, and she was still in the kitchen. He was a little worried and returned to the kitchen, where she was washing the plates and cups at the sink. He coughed, and she looked over her shoulder; he told her.

"You don't need to do that......"

She smiled

"No, no. If I don't clean them now, the stains will become hard to remove."

"Your, my guest, I should be doing that........ I don't even know your name. You know I'm Eddie, short for Edward."

He said. She looked away shyly and replied.

"No, Sir. You shouldn't need to know that I am happy to do this, and my name is Nabeela."

"That is a lovely name, Nabeela. I hope I said that correctly. I'll let you finish. Please call me Eddie."

He told her to admit he liked the sound of the way she called him Sir.

"Yes, okay, Sir, sorry, Eddie."

He thought it best to leave her to it, as he did not want to worry her.

He sat at the table, and once she was finished washing, she came to the dining room and said.

"If you don't mind, Sir, sorry, Eddie, I will go to my room?"

"Yes, as you please, Nabeela."

She smiled to herself; for the first time, she had heard a name said so lovely and so tenderly as she headed upstairs. He sat at the table thinking about Nabeela. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about her like this. The way she said Sir was so sexy with her voice, and even in her abaya, he could see the shape of her ripe young bottom and her enormous breasts standing out in front of her. He told himself off and switched on the TV to take his thoughts off her.

She locked the door behind her and headed to the other door in the room to ensuite. She removed her hijab and abaya. She was naked for the first time 3 months after running away from the traffickers. She turned on the shower, stepping into warm water as it washed over her body, bringing her flesh to life. She washed her hair and body, touching her breasts and remembered how you enjoyed touching herself and how good it felt to do so. She didn't spend too long in the shower; she wrapped one of the large towels around herself and returned to the bedroom. Then, she looked through the drawer, found a T-shirt, and put it on. It was so big it reached her knee. This man was like a big bear and yet had been so gentle and caring with her.

She climbed into this big, warm, comfortable bed and fell asleep.

When she woke the following day, she panicked and lay back once she realized where she was. She stared at the ceiling. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well. Looking at the bedside clock, she saw that it was 7 a.m. She felt so fresh that she wanted to repay this man for his good nature. She thought she would get up and make him breakfast.

She was making him an omelet and brewing coffee, and the smell of the coffee drifted upstairs, waking Eddie. He made his way downstairs, wondering who was making the coffee. As he approached the kitchen, he could smell the spicy omelet. He stood at the door watching her cook and wondered how anyone could have this amazing young woman.

She was wearing her abaya and hijab. When she turned to put the omelet onto the plates, he saw her in a new light. My god, she is beautiful. Is it because she is fresh, rested, and showered? He thought to himself. She looked, and she was surprised to see him standing there. She thought she was alone, and shock made her drop the pan. He ran over to pick it up, and she jumped back, worried she would get in trouble. He picked up, saying.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No, No, Sir, I'm sorry. I should waited and asked."

She said in panic. Eddie could see the fear and panic in her eyes; he quickly said

"Hey, are you okay? It was just an accident. It was my fault for surprising you like that. It was very kind of you to make breakfast. The omelet smells amazing, and I can't wait to taste it."

That seemed to calm her until she realized she was only wearing his T-shirt. She blushed bright red and ran out, trying to pull the T-shirt down even more. He figured he would let her get dressed before saying anything. When she didn't come back down 15 minutes later, he walked gently to her door and knocked softly, asking, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nabeela, you ok in there?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry for being so rudely dressed like this morning."

She told him. He didn't want to push things too much, so he just asked.

"If you're dressed now, please come downstairs and join me for breakfast, or it will get cold."

Then he returned downstairs, putting the plates out with the omelet and coffee on the table, and waited for her. She came into the room looking a bit sheepish. She sat down. While they ate the breakfast, he looked up at her and asked.

"Nabeela, you told me, and that woman at the hospital you used to work as a nurse, correct?"

"Yes, Sir, I did in Kabul."

She told him. Still looking closely at her, he asked.

"Did you not wear a nurse's dress there?"

"Oh no, no, sir, nothing that would have allowed me to show my legs or hair like that in public, sir, never."

She said with a look of fear in her eyes and face. He smiled at her and said.

"That is such shame you have beautiful hair and legs. I do understand. I guess that is due to the Taliban."

She blushed as no one had ever described anything about her as beautiful. It was wrong for this strange to have seen her like this, but it felt nice to be complimented. He didn't push it, and there were no more questions. For the rest of the day, he was doing a bit of weeding in the garden, and she sat by her window watching him. He was strong for a man his age, picking bags and moving them around with little effort.

The rest of the day went slowly until around lunchtime, when he came in, made some sandwiches, and called her for lunch. She came and sat at the table while they ate lunch, and he asked her if she wanted to watch television that afternoon. She looked at him, saying.

"She knew what a television was, but she had never watched one as they could not afford one."

"Ok, some TV it is then."

He said with a smile. For some strange reason, seeing him smile made her feel good. There was also something different about the way he was looking at her. It made her tingle all over in a good way; she didn't know what it was or why. The first thing they watched was football, which she found boring but he seemed to enjoy. Then said

"Let's try something else."

He turned to another channel, and Strictly Come Dance with the Stars was starting. He grabbed some drinks and sat back to watch the show. Roughly half through the show, he saw her squeezing her legs together. He looked back at the TV, and the two dancers were rubbing against each other. He thought this must be getting to the girl. He kept sneaking peep at her with his eyes drifting higher up her body, and her chest was rising and falling as if she was breathing heavier and her nipples were sticking out against her abaya. This was making him stir in his trousers. For some, there was a break for the judges, and he asked.

"What are we going to do for dinner?"

She looked back at him, still thinking about the dancers. She said.

"Whatever you think best, Sir."

She didn't want to sound like an ungrateful guest.

"How about a curry and rice?"

"That sounds good, Sir. I'll start making it."