Page 56 - A Woman Is No Man

side. But he grabbed her, pushing her into the mattress. Then he was on top
of her. She could smell his ashy breath as he exhaled in her face. Her hands
shook furiously, and she dug her fingers into her ivory nightgown. He

pulled her hands away, tugging off her gown and underwear—a bright
white set Mama had given her specifically for this night, so Adam would
know she was pure. Only Isra didn’t feel pure. She felt dirty and afraid.
Adam locked his hands around her hips, pinning down her struggling
body. She kept her eyes shut tight as he shoved her legs open, gritted her
teeth as he thrust himself inside her. Then she heard a scream. Was it hers?
She was afraid to open her eyes. There was something about the darkness

that felt safe, familiar. Lying there, eyes closed, memories of her home
somehow overwhelmed her. She saw herself running in an open field,
picking figs from the trees, saving the best ones for Mama, who waited for
her at the top of the hill with an empty basket. She saw herself playing with
marbles in the yard, chasing them as they rolled down the hill. She saw
herself blowing dandelions in the cemetery, reciting a prayer on every

gravestone.
Then she felt a gush down her thighs: she knew it must be blood. She
tried to ignore the burning sensation between her legs, as if a fist were
punching through her, tried to forget that she was in a strange room with a
strange man, her insides being forced open. She wished Mama had warned
her about the powerlessness a woman feels when a man puts himself inside
her, about the shame that fills her when she is forced to give herself up,

forced to be still. But this must be normal, Isra told herself. It must be.
So she lay there as Adam continued to thrust himself in and out of her
until, in rapid succession, he let out a deep breath and collapsed on top of
her. Then he lifted his body off hers and hobbled out of bed.
Isra rolled over and buried her face in the sheets. The room was dark
and cold, and she pulled the blanket over her goose-pimpled flesh. Where

had he gone? After a moment, she heard him pacing in the bathroom. He
flicked the light on, and she heard him open a cabinet. Then he turned the
light off and returned to the room.
Isra didn’t know why, but in that moment she thought she was going to
die. She imagined Adam slicing her neck with a knife, shooting her in the
chest, setting her on fire. What made her think these horrible things, she
didn’t know. But sprawled across the mattress, all she could see was

darkness and blood.