Amna Shaikh
R.L.A.
October 7, 1999

Sonia Ahmad

It was 6:45am, the guards were shouting their usual wake up calls.
"Get up you useless killers it's time for showering and chores!" I
moaned like a walrus, and woke up from my wonderful dream about angels.

I imagined the angel Gabriel singing beautiful Arabic songs in my ear.
When I opened my eyes, the magnificent angel in fire was gone. In
front of me instead was a metal wall with a puny sink, and metal toilet seat
stuck to it. Water was dripping from the bronze rusted tap, tink,
tink. It sounded like drops of rain on a tin roof, how soothing. Most
imagined angels as white children with wings attached to their arms.
Or gold children with wings on top of trees. Not me, my angels were made
of fire, and only perfect people with no ego could see them. Not even
prophet Mohammed (PBUH) could see angel Gabriel, he only heard him.
Coming back to reality I quickly got up and said my Fajr prayers.
When I was done, I woke up my cellmate Sophia. I was never fond of Sophia
when we first were put in the same cell. Although, now I worry and
care about her. She's kind of like my kid now that I think about it. She
was sentenced to five years in jail for shooting her father dead. It
wasn't like she didn't have a good enough reason. He used to beat her
and her mother, so she decided to end it, I guess. If you asked me to
describe her father, I'd say that he's the devil. That's all I really
know about Sophia's past, I never bother to ask her too many questions.

I'm just fine with how much I know about her. Sophia is a Muslim, but
she isn't practicing like me. Religion has always been part of my
life, and always will be.
Sophia isn't much of a morning person, which is a trait quite easy to
notice. Unlike me she pushes you away and growls like a wolf, when you
attempt to wake her from her deep sleep.
"Get up Sophia darling, your porridge is getting cold, and your brother
is eating your omelet." I said in my British accent. With that, she
at least opened her eyes. Oh no! She had that question look in her eyes.

Knowing she wouldn't get up unless I answered her question, I said.
"Go ahead ask me your question for this morning." Like a new person
she got up, and in her high pitched squeaky mouse voice she asked
cheerfully.
" Okay! What did you do, being such a good Muslim and all, to get in
jail?"

"Do I have to answer this now?" I asked. "It's going to take another
eight years to answer it."
" Yes, you have to answer it now." I thought to myself, somebody
please take me away from her while I'm still able to talk.
" Okay," I sighed, " here goes. Two years ago when I was twenty-three
my older brother Humza ran away. He didn't like living with us and
working in my fathers gyro resteraunt. The police looked for him, but
could never locate him. One year passed, I was twenty-four. We found
out Humza had joined a gang in New York City. His gang leader had shot
him for trying to get out of the gang. The same gang leader had killed
many other young men like my brother. Of course the police couldn't
find him either. Sadly, I never got over Humzas death, and I blamed
myself for it. Six months after the incident the same face of the gang
leader I'd seen on TV was standing by my fathers gyro restaurant. I
saw a shiny black gun that looked as big as California, hidden in his coat
pocket with the tip sticking out. In hatred and anger I pulled out the
knife I'd kept in my purse ever since Humzas death. I paced toward the
disgusting wart like figure, and stabbed him in the chest. Holding the
knife, and with blood on my hands I was in Shock. In fright, I ran
home. My father and mother came out of the restaurant and chased after
me, not knowing what had happened. I got to our old run down apartment
and took an ice cold shower. I than sat on our faded blue couch,
starring at all our Turkish carpets and colored glass bottles. They
reminded me of my home Turkey, where I wanted to be. When my parents
came home panting, I told them everything that had happened. All of us
were in tears. My parents tried to console me, but I think all of us
new I'd end up in jail forever."
" Than what happened tell me tell me!" Sophia pleaded, like a
three-year-old. She's actually twenty-one.
"Vell, I was put in za Boston jail, of course. Now I am tventy-fife
yars old. Satly, I'm now sytting har in a cell wid a low life like
you."
" Ha ha, very funny." Sophia said sarcastically. In contentment I
put my head back and laughed my enormous, roaring, evil laugh.
"Ahhhhhahahahahah! You know what Sophia," I said with a quick mood
change.
" What," she whispered.
"I hope I can buy a huge1,000,000 acre mansion for my parents to live
in when I get out of here. They should have something better to live in
than that tiny worn out dump."
" Sonia, you're always trying to improve yourself, I've never met
anyone like you." Sophia said giggling.
"I know," I said. "It's just who I like to be I think. Now get up
Sophia, the guards will be here any minute to check to see if we're
up."
" Just tell them I'm dead," she said.
"No! Get up, I mean it." Sophia figured out that I was getting crabby
and was annoyed with her. She slowly got out of bed. She was standing
up, right when the guard came to take us to the showers.
While I took my shower, my stomach was growling, and croaking as if it
were a frog. I imagined eating a warm beef shorma. I could almost
smell the beef being cut into pieces. Ohhh, how I loved working at my
fathers gyro. Cooking is one of my favorite pastimes, and eating is my
favorite pastime. Soon my daydream ended, and I put on my clothes. In
a line, the guards walked us to breakfast. The metal cafeteria has
dozens of metal tables and chairs that look like cold eyes staring at
you. It reminds me of an insane asylum. Everyday I sit with the same
people at the same table to eat all three meals. I sit with Jill,
Zainub, Heather, and of course Sophia. I like sitting with them,
they're kind of like my make up family. We talk about anything we feel
like, I usually watch them discuss useless topics instead of taking
part. It's not hard to be ignored if you sit with such a variety of
personalities. Jill is the crazy and hyper person who is the center of
everything. Zainub is quiet and conservative type. She'll always
listen to whatever you have to say no matter who you are. Heather is a
grouch, doesn't agree with anyone, and usually causes all the argument.

She's still interesting to talk to and observe, but if she's not in a
good mood, she might bight your hand off. Last but not the least is
Sophia, the little tag along girl, ya know the one that everyone tries
to ignore. Anyway, for breakfast today we're eating what I like to
call unidentifiable glup. It's a mix of eggs, bread, beans, and any other
breakfast item you can imagine.
When everyone is finished eating breakfast, we either go to do our
chores, or to our individual mandatory classes. My individual class is
mental therapy, so that's where I go everyday after breakfast. My
parents and my lawyer thought I needed help to get over my brothers
death, so they made me take therapy. I don't mind it. I actually
enjoy it. My therapist Mrs. Jerald is always willing to buy me shormas and
cookies from outside for me. She even lets me wear my own clothes
during our sessions, since she believes it makes me remember who I am.
Everyday I look forward to putting on my Turkish printed skirt that has
shrunk to my ankles over time. The off white color, and bright blues
and pinks are still shiny after many washes. My soft white shirt
reminds me of my mother since she cross-stitched the cat on it. The
soft shiny silver slippers I wear give a sense of warmth to my feet
when I put them on. The bumps on the bottom of my slippers feel like small,
baby soft rocks under my feet. My anklet with a bell, sliver
bracelets, and earrings make me a princess. I love the sound of my bracelets when
they clash together, it's like music to my ears. I don't care if my
cloths or sense of fashion is not in style anymore, I just care about
the comfort of my clothes. When I was dressed, I put on my maroon
lipstick, and my multicolored eyeshadow that goes well with my dark
brown eyes. My blush had finished so I couldn't put any on. Last, I
put on my dark colored bonnet that covers a section of my opened curly
hair.
Today Mrs. Jerald waited while I changed behind the large black
curtain, instead of getting some coffee to drink. When I was done
changing she looked at me smiling and said,
" Sonia, today we're going to talk about you and your personality, so
why don't you have a seat." Motioning to the dirt brown chair next to
her. I sat down with my legs spread, making a V shape, and with my
hands rubbing my nose.
" We always seem to be talking about your brother, I want to learn more
about you." She added.
" Sure," I said with my heavy Scottish accent, " what would ya like to
know."
" Anything, just describe yourself to me, brag about yourself."
"Well, I've been thinking about playin the French horn after I get oaut
a here. I love greenery, but I hate forests, they're too spookay. I
was born in Istanbul, Turkey, my parnts decided to move here because
they wanted to open a gyro. Our apartment is in Boston, and I like
whals. I also hate braggers, and hate braggin." I said continuing
with
my Scottish accent.
" Okay, that's not exactly what I wanted to here, but now I'll tell
you what I know about your personality. You wear lots of dark make up to
cover up your real beauty. You are a humorous person, and have
beautiful luscious, full, and think curly hair. That's about all I can
tell you." I got up and started walking around like a pigeon.
" Why are you doing that Sonia?" Mrs. Jerald asked me as she chuckled
at my hilarious walk. Coming back to my boring, speedy, Turkish accent
voice, I replied.
"It helps me get rid of my embarrassment, I also like doing it because
it makes other people laugh, I think I enjoy making others laugh. I
think I'm doing it mostly because sitting for too long makes me tired
and bored.
" Good," said my therapist, " We're making lots of progress now, but
I'm sad to say our time is up, I'll see you tomorrow." Mrs. Jerald
left the room and I quickly changed back into my jail clothes. The guard
outside of the therapy room took me to my chores for today. The same
guard takes me to my chores everyday, and looks at me like a child
that has seen ghost, I don't know why. I had to clean the bathroom for my
chore today. To make my chore more interesting I joked around and
talked with myself. At lunch I didn't watch or take part in the daily
discussions, I thought about the session I had today. I wondered if
everything she had said about me was true, and if anyone else had any
comments about me.
When I was back in my animal cage with Sophia it was evening time,
right after dinner. I said my Asar and Mugrib prayers while Sophia
watched me going up and down saying my prayers. When I was done I sat
on my bed and asked Sophia.
" Do you have any comments about my personality? "
" I have quite a few." She mumbled
"Tell me," I said using my hands to talk. I could see the expression on
Sophia's face was not willing to tell, but than she blurted out.
" You always seem to be pacing, and moving around, and you walk as if
you're taking small jump steps, like a horse does. The way you talk is
with the speed of lightning." Confused and hurt with her answer, I
started questioning Sophia. Soon I found myself screaming at her in
fury. I than calmed down by screaming at myself, and said to Sophia,
"I have huge mood swings too, don't I." Sophia nodded her head in
terror, it seemed like she was frozen in shock. It was already 10:00pm
and the guards were shouting their usual night calls.
" Time to sleep you useless killers, go to bed!" Amused and tired I
put my head back and laughed my gigantic, tree-shaking laugh once more.
Sophia started giggling in her three-year-old voice. In my head I
thought, what a strange day.