19. Violence

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Just a quick reminder that the people who say that they relate to Amaira and then you say that "Amaira, You are so beautiful." "Amaira, I am proud of you." Somewhere you are saying it to yourself 💗

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Amaira's POV
Age — 12

“Amaira, let's go.” Mum orders as she walks past me, towards the exit.

My eyes stay stuck at the giant stuff bear in front of me, The brown fluffy toy stares back at me making a wide grin to fall on my lips as I call out, “Mom, Can I get this one?”

Mumma turns around, her gaze sliding to the toy, and she shakes her head, “You are growing up, it is not your age to play with such toys, Amaira.”

My smile dies down at her response, but I still nod, I am a big girl now.

“Let's get you a new dress.” Mama urges as she holds my hand and I jump in excitement.

I love dresses.

Mama buys me so many clothes, Pink and Purple frocks are my favourite.

I look like a princess in them. Like the one from the movies.

My feet follow mom's steps as we walk in a kid's clothes shop. A blue dress grasped my attention and a squeal left my throat, “Mama, that one,”

Mumma smiled at my choice and took the dress off the hanger, “You have a great choice, Amaira.”

My cheeks turned red at the compliment, Mama searched for more clothes and after paying for everything she lightly held my hand.

As we walked outside the mall a familiar face creeps slowly in our direction, His eyes fall over mama, and He smiles, differently, it doesn't look normal,

It's… Unusual.

Dad never smiles like this, He is always very collective.

The man's precise steps fawns closer as he grins, his arms stretch out and mom leaves my hand as she runs in the stranger's direction.

Mama smiles and wraps her arms around him as he follows her actions.

People passing by gave them side glances, slightly judging them and I squirmed uncomfortably while I stared at these two.

I stared around me, The golden sun hue falling over my skin as a light wind lingered over my face, This was our day.

Mom promised me that she would be with me today.

I scuffed at the two in front of me, now engaged in a conversation. Mom turns around, finally remembering me and says what I expected her to,

“Amaira, Go sit in the car, I will be back in an hour.”

The same repetitive words.

Earlier I believed that they were friends. They are not.

I am unable to figure out what they are, But dad doesn't approve of their relationship.

The man stares at me with a lopsided smile, he strides towards me and pats my hair lightly, “We'll be back, Princess.”

The urge to stomp my foot and leave surges through me yet all I do is turn towards our car.

“Don't be Rude, Amaira.” Mom's stern voice emerges from behind yet nothing in me can look behind and take it.

A lone tear escapes from my eyes and I scoot in my car, The driver gave me a sympathetic look but there was only so much you could do.

30 minutes.

An hour.

An hour and 30 minutes,

I continued to wait in the dimly lit car, the driver pitied me. The low, unfamiliar music played on, and I glanced outside the car, wishing that she would return soon.

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