I kept hoping something would happen and the schools would remain open.
我不停地祈祷，希望奇迹出现，学校能够继续开办下去。
But finally the deadline was upon us.
但是终于，期限还是到了。
We were determined that the Khushal School bell would be the last to stop ringing.
我们决定让胡沙尔学校的钟声响到最后一刻。
Madam Maryam had even got married so she could stay in Swat.
为了继续留在斯瓦特，玛丽安女士甚至都结了婚。
Her family had moved to Karachi to get away from the conflict and, as a woman, she could not live alone.
因为为了避难，她的家人们已经都搬到了卡拉奇；而身为一个女人，她没有办法独自居住在这里。
Wednesday 14 January was the day my school closed, and when I woke up that morning I saw TV cameras in my bedroom.
1月14日是星期三，是我们学校关闭的日子。那天早晨，当我醒来时，发现自己的房间里有一台电视摄像机。
A Pakistani journalist called Irfan Ashraf was following me around, even as I said my prayers and brushed my teeth.
一名巴基斯坦的记者伊凡·艾希拉夫准备跟踪采访我。他一直跟着我拍摄，就连我做祷告或刷牙时都不例外。
I could tell my father was in a bad mood.
看得出，父亲的心情很差。
One of his friends had persuaded him to participate in a documentary for the New York Times website to show the world what was happening to us.
他的一位朋友曾引荐他参与一个《纽约时报》官方网站的纪录片拍摄计划，以便让世界看到我们这里发生的一切。
A few weeks before, we had met the American video journalist Adam Ellick in Peshawar.
于是几个星期前，我们在白沙瓦和负责该项目的美国录像记者亚当·艾利克见了面。
It was a funny meeting as he conducted a long interview with my father in English and I didn't say a word.
那是一次有趣的会晤。他首先用英文对我父亲进行了一个很长时间的采访，而我只是静静地坐在一旁。
Then he asked if he could talk to me and began asking questions using Irfan as an interpreter.
然后，他问是否可以跟我说话，接着便通过伊凡作为翻译开始向我提问。
After about ten minutes of this he realised from my facial expressions that I could understand him perfectly.
大约十分钟后，他从我的面部表情意识到我其实听得懂他说的话。
'You speak English?' he asked me.
“你会讲英文吗？”他问我。
'Yes, I was just saying there is a fear in my heart,' I replied.
“会，我刚才是想说我仍心存恐惧。”我答道。