Wrong Suffered At Hands (Chapter Eight)

 

 

8.

 

When Afiyah opened the gate to her house, she recognized Khizar standing tall in her doorway. He had a magnanimous grin on his face that veiled a slew of heinous deeds underneath it. Khizar was carrying a bag that seemed to have been purchased from a market.

"Are you going to invite me in?"

She stayed silent, her frame blocking the path to her house. She searched for his face and anything out of the ordinary.

"Sameer and Papa Jan are not at home; please return later." She tried to shut the door in his face, but it got caught in the middle. She lowered her gaze to a slender foot wedged between the gate and the clasp. The foot in the slippers looked like a premature baby bird, with no fur and only veins and bones.

“I bought you a cake since I know you fancy sweets. Please take these and make me a cup of tea. After that, I'll depart. I promise.” He attempted to persuade her to concur with his accent and serene demeanor.

“Five minutes.” She demanded as she stepped aside and opened the gate wider. Her expressions remained placid despite the fact that her interiors were going to detonate at any point.

Khizar sat down on the couch, and she headed into the kitchen to prepare tea when she was overcome with remorse. She despised the thought that Khizar was sitting outside, alone in the home, with no one around them. He may attack her, assault her or perhaps murder her, and then sale her organs.

Her heart missed a beat when she burned her finger on the stove and heard a growl behind her, everything occurred so quickly.

"How long do you think it'll take? I'm in a rush."

She eventually turned to confront him; he was hanging in the door frame. His arms splayed ajar as they gripped the door frame whilst he leaned into the kitchen. He was beaming, his fangs on display.

She pretended to be distracted for a moment, stating the tea would be served in a minute. He didn't leave until she'd waited for the tea to boil; he stayed by her side until she poured the tea into the cup. She was hardly breathing because she was terrified that if she did, the motion of her breathing would be perceived as an invitation by Khizar.

Khizar mentioned his crush, which genuinely surprised Afiyah. The gossip was reasonable until she overheard him mention something outrageous;

"She forced me over her, and I couldn't resist, so I went to her place.  We did a lot of things.” he snickered, the noise originating from his chest, "I didn't want to touch her, but she persisted. My pals and I got there, and I observed them hooking up. I wasn't the one who was doing it, but my pals were. I simply sat there, staring at her as she-"

"You’re engaged." She inquired, but it was more of a caution, a reminder.

“Oh...” he laughed, hesitantly, "It was two years ago."

“The tea is getting chilly and beside you have to be somewhere like you mentioned before.”

Khizar was sufficiently alarmed to shift his focus to the tea. By this time, the atmosphere had thickened and became oppressive. The loudness of their breathing and the slurping of tea were more audible. It was November, but the cause of her trembling self was something else entirely.

"I wanted to show you something, by the way." He fetched his phone and fiddled with the controls. All the while, he had a smug smile washed over his face, “Look here.”

Afiyah frowned as she inspected the cell phone's brightly lit screen. The green gown, half-tied hair, big doe eyes, and a sequin grin were all captured in a photograph. She should've gasped since the girl on the phone was Afiyah herself, and she felt her windpipe constrict.

 "I absolutely admire this picture of yours; therefore I saved it to my collection."

What were you thinking when you did that?

She wanted to say, but her tongue was confined. She averted her gaze, far too taken aback to utter anything. She was terrified to the core.

"Anyway, I'm leaving right now." He not so genuinely gave her a wink, "Thank you very much for the tea.”

 

Afiyah laid her head against the roughness of the door as Khizar walked away. Why did you let him in? You shouldn't have done it. That day, she muttered to herself a dozen times.

 

Her gaze was riveted on an ant carrying a little chunk of pastry in its mouth as she knelt on the rug. With each movement of the tiny creature, her irises dilated, but her thoughts strayed down the memory lane, where she could vividly taste the delicacy of those thick lips on her own. It was excruciatingly painful to recall everything, even after so much time had passed. Hassan kissed her but didn't go any farther, she remembered. He never approached her without her agreement, as if he was afraid of frightening her. She shivered as she sensed his lips on her, the gust of his warm breath brushing her neck, and his freshly shaven stubble tickling her face. She imagined him offering her one more smile, their last exchange of contact, their fingers interlacing as though they were supposed to be together. Deep inside, Afiyah still yearned for Hassan's response or a show up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the due course, Afiyah had eventually learned to skip classes. She and Kainat would manage to sneak out of class, claiming that they needed to use the toilet. She and Kainat would skip classes to smoke in the vacant toilets or sometimes in front of a few others. They were never concerned of being discovered since they knew no one informed the teachers anything because they themselves disguised their own wrongdoings. Unexpectedly, Afiyah didn't cough at all the first time she smoked. She inhaled the smoke until it reached her throat, and then expelled it all at once, her throat never constricted. It subsequently became a habit for her to stuff one or two cigarettes into her socks, carry them home, and smoke in quite an empty house.

She learnt that it was acceptable to be immoral and irresponsible on sometimes. It was considered virtuous to commit wrongdoings every now and again. When Kainat stated that smoking helps you feel at peace, even if just for a short time, but it also makes you neglect the reality, she agreed. Kainat was correct; pretty much every time she smoked, she felt at rest, as if she were sitting on a throne after dominating the intentions. She made a point of brushing her teeth and using mouthwash thereafter.

Afiyah, Sameer, and their father were seated next to each other. It was a calm evening, and the table was arranged with tea and sweet buns baked by Afiyah for the evening. it was agonizingly quiet, with Afiyah and Sameer occasionally stealing glances at one another.

"As you both know, I've been suffering from a variety of health issues recently."

They do, in fact. Their father had diabetes and high blood pressure, which upset him as he tried to manage his blood pressure, which stimulated his mind. And as time passed, he grew sick and weak, unable to care for a home with two grown up children.

"I want to get married."

As surprising as it seems, they both managed to steal a glance of consensus, their eyes locked with a nod of approval.

"I'm not able to care for both of you; I seek mental relief, and I believe that bringing in a woman, as my wife and your mother, would be preferable."

"Do you want us to seek for one or is it affirmed?" said Sameer, the first to respond.

"Tomorrow, I'll welcome her into my Nikkah."

They were both taken aback, their delight pouring over into the container.

"Papa Jan, this is such a fantastic decision. We're both on board with your decision. For this, we both cherish you." Afiyah was on the verge of jumping out of her seat.

 "Yes, Papa, we're both on board with your choice."

"I want you to pledge..." their father said as he lowered his spectacles, "That you'd love her as a mother, and that you'd want her to love you as a mother. Both of you will admire her, not as my wife, but like a mother. I'll have her swear these things to you both as well. You two mean the world to me; I've already lost my universe, and I can't afford to lose you both."

Following morning, they both prepared for the arrival of the bride, a young mother. Sameer returned from the Nikkah ceremony earlier to assist Afiyah with housework. He used white roses to adorn the house, while Afiyah prepared traditional delicacies to impress their young mother.

When their stepmother arrived with their father and a handful of relatives after an excruciatingly long wait, it was determined that no large ceremony would be held. The crimson embroidered wedding dress that trailed against the floor was Afiyah's first impression of her stepmother. Her countenance was broad and tanned, with large lips, grayish eyes, and a sloppy nose. Their father had informed them she was from the rural side. She was reared in a village far away from where they lived, and her physique spoke for itself; she hiked mountain to mountain and even mowed the fields, or possibly constructed concrete walls.

The very next day, a small greeting ceremony with a few more friends and family was held, but because it was a second marriage, there was no music, just a gathering of wishes and blessings.

Afiyah made a promise to herself the day her stepmother entered the house: she would give her the love of a daughter and get the affection of a mother.

 

 

 

 

When Afiyah studied Hareem, her stepmother, she saw that their ages were nearly the same. Hareem was a few years older than the two of them, and their father said that the purpose for marrying a younger woman was so that she could care after them for the rest of her life if their father passed away sometime, which were an exasperating excuse.

Hareem had a majestic spirit and a bright personality. She was silent for the first several weeks, but as she became more involved with Afiyah and Sameer, her genuine personality emerged. They gathered all together on their breakfast table, which wasn't empty or basic. Afiyah no longer went to school without breakfast, and she didn't return home to prepare lunch since she knew she'd be greeted with a choice of foods when she returned home, fatigued from school. Afiyah was now at ease after spending her youth serving for Sameer and their father.

"Take a shower before touching a single slice of loaf; your hands are unclean from all the inks and grime." She'd make a joke about how filthy she was from school and tell her she needed to clean up before lunch.

"Girls who are smart take care of themselves." She would remark this anytime she saw Afiyah ignoring her messy room or unclean clothes. Hareem took care of the duties, but she had no intention of washing Afiyah's clothing. "You're the one who's in charge of your responsibilities. Don't become accustomed to others doing your work for you." She would say.

Hareem was a mature and sensible lady, as well as the woman of her words, she realized.

Afiyah was fumbling with her phone, most likely giggling at something Kainat had said or a dirty joke she had sent her. She was curled up under a blanket with the bedroom heater beside her.

When the knocks on her locked door alarmed her, she snuck the phone into her bras and hustled to unlock the door.

"You know I don't recognize most of your relatives, but there is a visitor at our house, so please come out and welcome him." Hareem whispered, her gaze darting over her shoulder. Afiyah could only encounter the word welcome him, and she was immediately anxious as to who it was.

When she stepped out of her room, she noticed Khizar. As she greeted him, she pulled her shawl over her shoulders. She should've felt at rest because she wasn't alone with him anymore; she'll never be alone with him ever again.

“Serve him a cup of tea, Afiyah.” Hareem referred to her and sought to enter her room. Afiyah met the requirements. She kept the stove on low heat so she wouldn't have to sit with Khizar for lengthy periods of time.

"Doesn't it seem like you're taking forever?" Khizar surprised her, causing her to hiss in distress.

Before she could even utter a phrase, he was behind her.

"Sit outside before I scream for Hareem to come out of her room. "She alerted, not meeting his eyes.

“She’s talking a shower, consequences of marriage.” As he mused, he snickered, which triggered Afiyah. "It's not like I didn't lock the door behind her."

"What the heck did you do?” her eyes practically sprang out as she glared at him, she snarled as she confronted him.

"Calm down, and why are you cursing at me, I’m older than you?"

"You may be older than me, but you lack decency. Before I thrust this knife into your innards, go ahead and unlock the door behind her."

"Don't make a fuss; just fulfill my request, just one wish." Khizar said as he seized her hand in which she held the knife, aiming at him.

"What exactly is it? Bark.”

 Khizar seized both of Afiyah's wrists this time as she recoiled her hand. "I saw you at your father's wedding and trust me, I was dazed." he said as he drew in closer to her. "Your attractiveness astounded me; your lips were so full and delicious-looking. Allow me to kiss you once, and I'll never return."

She flinched from him like a rifle springing back after shooting. "Are you in your senses?" she stumbled backwards, as if she had been scorched by flames on her wrists, "You're engaged and about to get married, and I'm not a freaking prostitute, so come up to me and demand heinous acts, and I'll compile."

"Just once, I sincerely want to kiss you; it's something I've always wanted to do."

 Afiyah slapped him well across the face as he was about to lean towards her. Her palm was burning from slapping Khizar, and her hands trembled from the blow.

"You scumbag." He growled and lunged at her. Everything happened too quickly for her to notice that Khizar had drifted towards her, his lips pressed against hers in an unpleasant manner, and his full beard bothered her.

She wailed and thrashed against him in an attempt to free herself from his clutches. She wasn't sure where her kicks landed, but when Khizar gasped and shrank back, she knew she'd struck the right spot.

"Take it for embarrassing me, for believing I'll let you pass on whatever you want." she said as she wiped her mouth and peered at Khizar, who knelt on the floor with his hands buried between his thighs. "You’re a disgusting scumbag."

When khizar rallied, his eyes were slightly swollen and red, his lips curled into a snigger. He grasped Afiyah's shawl and yanked at it, causing her shawl to slip down and exposing Afiyah. "You'll pay for that." Khizar said as he played with her shawl, "Today, mark my words: you'll pay for what you did. Plus, you're not the only masterpiece; therefore I'm not going to die without kissing you."

He then strolled out of the home with her shawl draping from one edge of his shoulder, giving her a smirk as he did so.

Afiyah dashed and unlatched the door to Hareem’s room and inhaled with ease upon seeing that she was still in shower. She wiped the back of her palm over her lips, hoping to remove the remnants of Khizar's touch.

She sat on her bed, staring at her feet, and then she burst into sobs all over again. She coughed as her insides curled with loathing, her stomach constricted, and saliva dripped from her mouth. She dashed to the bathroom and threw up into the bowl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a couple moments of lying on the slightly cold mat, Afiyah realized that Talal had not attended her father's wedding. He completely vanished, a sort of. She tried to jog her memory by counting the months she hadn't seen or heard from Talal; it had been more than a year and a half since she had seen or heard from him. She hoped that he had been completely fine, out of any turmoil that she may have caused him. If she discovered that she has caused complications or a crisis in Talal's life, she will condemn herself for the rest of her life.

Afiyah, on the other hand, was still actually attempting to escape all the insults she had received after sharing the night with Talal under the constellations.

That night, when Sameer viewed Afiyah, he remarked her red, swollen lips. "It's an allergy," she attempted to rationalize, at least. She was very aware of Hareem and her father's puzzled stares; she really did scrub her lips with the handkerchief and even with the duvet before hiding under it. She was terrified of losing the imprints of Hassan's lips on her mouth, and she was appalled by the possibility that Khizar had replaced them with his own. It was a strange and enraged feeling for her; she despised the way Khizar had brazenly kissed her, smeared her with filth and disdain.

She felt enraged, in addition to being humiliated and ashamed. Her stomach churned as she pondered about kicking Khizar once more. But this time around, she intended to kick his guts and face as well. She was so outraged that the prospect of murdering Khizar brought her solace and comfort. Mr. Farooq has taught her a valuable lesson, and she can't stand to learn another.

 

 

Afiyah was initially frightened of the girl named Urooj, who appeared to be a typical and secluded girl until one day that she emerged in front of Afiyah and declared that she likes her and that she held a passion towards her.

"I cherish your presence, Afiyah. Maybe you'd like to be my girlfriend."

Afiyah recalls choking on the ambient air and coughing so hard that Kainat smacked her in the back as if she had swallowed a spud. That day, Afiyah tried to flee from Urooj, but she grabbed her forearm and repeated the remark till Afiyah really snatched her arm from her clutches and sought to withdraw, "This is filthy if you ask me. This is complete nonsense and filthy, and I don't like girls, so don't try to bother me again."

Urooj, on the other hand, never attempted to depart from her sight. Urooj would walk up in the middle of her lunch break or even while chatting to someone and introduce Afiyah as her pretty shortly girlfriend, which would stun Afiyah. The set of circumstances and sentiments itself obviously made Afiyah ill at ease. And one day, Urooj claimed she'd go to any length to have her, to which Afiyah responded with a tight-lipped smile and a shrug. She felt she'd gone insane, young blood, she reasoned. But she didn't comprehend how further Urooj could go until such time when Kainat and Afiyah giggled as they entered the restrooms one day.

The sight of Urooj leaning over another girl made Afiyah discombobulated. Urooj was presumably whispering something in that ear, but the look of excitement and ardor on her countenance was obvious to everyone. Urooj's sleeves were usually rolled up, her proctor ribbon dangling from her immaculate uniform, and the way she stared at Afiyah made her feel extremely uncomfortable. Whenever she saw Urooj, those words would resurface in her mind: "I'll go to any length to have you, to make you mine. This isn’t a big deal to be girlfriends, not in this century."

As she attempted to reply to a chattering Kainat beside her, she felt a shiver run down her neck and spine. Urooj offered her the kind of flirtatious looks that only a male can give a woman, which sickened her even more. Even if she was chatting to someone else, she would wink at her, her gaze staying on Afiyah for more than just a few moments.

"Let's go, the proctors are coming for inspection." One of the girls muttered, and the bulk of the females bolted from the toilet. Afiyah was about to run out as well when Kainat intervened.

"The girls are hiding as well, they're going to fine us, so let's go hide."

“Where?” She shrieked as Kainat dragged her to the cubicles. They entered one of the cubicles, and Kainat lock the door behind them.

The cubicle was dark and cramped, making it difficult for Kainat and Afiyah to stand without bumping against one another. Their breaths could be heard as the proctors yelled filthy obscenities at the girls in the lavatory and dragged them out. The way girls screeched, they both knew they were being pulled by their braids.

"Damn, thanks heaven, we didn't run."  Kainat muttered under her breath, the blow of her breath landing on her cheek. She squinted as she tried to make out Kainat’s features in the total darkness.

Outside, the silence fell, there was a blood curdling silence. The shuffling of footwear was no more perceptible neither was their girls shrieking and yelling like a hurricane gusts.

"I believe they've left." Kainat nodded as Afiyah whisper-yelled over her lungs. The moment grew into a tumult when they heard shuffling of slippers and heeled shoes. The heels belonged to neither the proctors nor the schoolmates.

“Get out, both of you. Get out of the cubicle.”

When they heard the teacher yell, they felt as if they were being drained dry. The thump of a baton against the door pierced Afiyah's hearing.

"I asked you to you to come out or we'd shatter the doors!"

"Kainat, open the damn door." Afiyah yelled under her breath.

“No…You have no idea what it implies to discover two girls inside cubicles." she exclaimed, horrified. Kainat tugged at her hair, her bottom lip chewed as if she wanted to rip it off.

"We're going to slam the door!"

And Kainat dashes to the door and tries to open it. After what Kainat had just said, Afiyah crouched behind the door, frightened to confront them.

From the outside, the door was locked, and they exchanged a glance. How come? What's the deal with the door being locked from the outside? Afiyah attempted to think about what was going on.

The door unlatched and swung wide open.

"Excuse me, madam; I had to use the restroom."

"Is there anyone else inside with you?"

“No one, it’s just me.”

Afiyah pressed herself against the wall behind her, hoping to avoid being discovered.

“Don’t lie! We've been informed there are two of you."

Were they informed? They were informed and brought here by someone.

As though hit by lightning, Afiyah's consciousness burst open, bringing the harsh reality rushing down at her.

"It's just me...."

She didn't wait for Kainat to complete before approaching her and taking a position beside her. Her steps trembled, and she lowered her head, her breathing rapid.

Admittedly, why should Kainat endure the brunt of the flames alone since Afiyah was the one to be duped?