It’s been two days since Mark attacked me, and my bruised eye looked horrible. The swelling had subsided, but my eye was still mostly shut.

We had to go to work today, and I was dreading it because I knew I would have to put up with the stares and endless questions.

As we walked into the office, Melda, the office gossip, walked over, trying to be nonchalant, and the inquisition started.

Fatima gave me one of those looks that said, “Watch what you say.” as she turned and walked over to her desk.

My explanation to Melda was quick and a total lie, but I knew that honesty, in this case, was not my best option. The truth would be twisted and manipulated to suit whoever was telling the tale. More importantly, it was my business anyway.

“Melda, I was clumsy, and during my gym session, I had an encounter with a dumbbell.”, I said, trying desperately not to fall into fits of laughter. Fatima, though, was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

Bless her; she had taught me an important lesson – speak out about injustice and abuse to people who will listen and help, not those looking for the latest gossip to talk about.

The Prophet (May Peace be Upon him) said: “The person whom I hate the most and who are the furthest away from me on the day of Judgement are those who talk uselessly, those who put others down and those who show off when they talk.” A lesson for us all.

Fatima convinced me that I had to get help for my brother before his drinking and temper got him into serious trouble. She suggested that I speak to our attorney regarding legal action but with the clause that I would not press charges if Mark chose to go into rehab and anger management classes.

Mum agreed with the idea, and I prayed fervently that my brother and I could get back to being the loving siblings we once were.