19: She Has To!

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"You wriggle in pain or you die in peace, do what is done for you to do. Because with every breath you take, there is something within you that will be born."

I Woke up with a start, it had been a week since I had been going to the office. It was a riot when I first went; the media stuck to me like ugly leeches. Answering all of their questions killed me, I had an interview with Riyadh's running first journalist Hayat Ahdi, and she never failed to humiliate popular figures or to raise those figures.

She was best at what she said and wrote, the way she tackled people made them nervous but I knew her better, she would spare me her horrible eye because she was a good friend of my mom but then no one cared about you. If she got good money on this, she would not back away from beating around the bush. I had this unfortunate interview in a possible of four hours and I was already feeling queasy; I was in bed with a sour face since I felt as if someone bunched my insides up trying to make me choke my intestines out. Gross!

Not holding it in, I rushed to the restroom and spilled my empty stomach out in the toilet, my head hurting from all the pressure I put on vomiting. Cleaning up after a while, I sat on my bed and stared off onto the wall ahead of me where a brilliant picture of me and my parents stood out in the entire room. We looked damn royal.

This interview had to go well, I did fine letting everyone know that Musa was an ever-growing business holder; he was busy and had to run about while I continued to work for my company. They believed in me within three seconds but it was getting harder for me to live without his venomous self.

Even his hard glare, stone features, and poisonous words were missed by me. I was doomed for life that I knew. Grabbing my phone I checked the time it was 7:00 a.m. and I was up early, today my day was off since I had an interview and a few meetings at home. Ever since I came back Musa didn't even breathe towards the company and so I moved on as if nothing was wrong. It was the fifth of June and Ramadan was on our heads in a few days, with the burning heat of Riyadh our fasts were always a big test. It was a joy I was going to share alone as a married woman; I sighed. Wait, fifth of June? It was past my period dates like I should've gotten them ten days ago, aren't they a little too late? This was trouble, if I didn't get them now my fasts will be ruined I thought sadly.

A knock resounded on my room door, shaking me out of my thought. One of my maids peeked her head in.

"Salam Ma'am. Breakfast?" She asked in her cheery voice.

The name itself revolted me, "I'm not feeling it, later." I replied smiling.

She nodded and left; I was tired, bored, and restless. I couldn't sleep properly these past nights, working continuously was kind of killing me, but I had to because if I didn't I would've been a target of gloom and depression. Laying back down, I decided I needed to sleep for just ten minutes.

Who knew those ten minutes ended up as a two-hour nap?

"Hoor, wake up!" Seema shook me vigorously with an angry bird expression.

"Huh?" I blinked, not understanding why she woke me up so bitterly when I was spending time with my parents. It was beautiful until this wench disturbed me.

"You running late! Get up." She barked. I'm running where, who!?!

"Hoor your interview!!" She yelled, making me sit upright in seconds. Holy cow! The other witch must be on her way!

"God, you look like trash, what, are you empty of glucose!" She crumbled her nose disgustingly.

I didn't respond, just got out of bed easily, calmly. My eyes heavy, I felt my head swim in unwanted directions, but I kept walking, or as I thought so.

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