***
The entire emirate was choking with preparations for the royal wedding. Royals from other places were flooding in, Yasmeen was desperate and Mubasshir was losing his mind.
YASMEEN
One of the rather skinny maids said Salam and came into Sani's room where I was staying, or being held rather.
He vacated the entire master bedroom and was staying in one of the smaller rooms for now.
"We don't want the people to think anything funny is going on before proper nikkah" he had said. I laughed at the irony. Like there is anything "funny" that he hasn't done to me.
"Masu lalle sun iso (the henna artists has arrived) the girls timid voice came in a whisper. She was so shy, because of me. I wondered if she knows that i was once in those exact same shoes. The harrowing thought of Sani abusing her like he did me make me almost pass out. I smiled at her.
"Su shigo (let them in)" I say to her. She nodded and left.
I looked at myself in the magnificent golden antique mirror, then tapped my chubby cheeks a couple of times to wake myself up incase I was dreaming, having a nightmare.
Dear God, Is this really happening? am I really going to get married to my abuser? I came to terms with the fact that he was going to get away with mutilating my innocence a long time ago but him forcefully marrying me was just plain cruel.
And my brothers, no one has heard from them. They are probably really hurt. I refuse to imagine that anything worse than a few bruises and black eyes happened to them. And Mubasshir, his dead body is probably lying somewhere in a shallow grave or a ditch.
A dense lump of dread lodged itself in my throat, efficiently cutting of my breathing. I began to wheeze. The memory of all that had happened to me when I was a stuck here. The beatings, the assault, the trauma.
Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult with every vivid memory.
The pain of having a baby ripped out of my eighteen year old boyish body. Tears streamed freely down my face as I struggled and failed to breathe properly.
Sani came into the room and leaned his shoulders on the door frame with his arms crossed. He watched me like a vulture waiting for an animal to die off.
"You really should stop with the dramatics. I could here you wheezing from across the hall" he says, clearly irritated. I barely heard him. I was still trying to fill my lungs with air. At this point, they were hurting and might erupt at any moment.
"I said stop dammit!" He roared, almost shaking the entire room down to its foundation. I stilled. He had a murderous glint in his eyes. Its the one he usually has when he whips us bloody with his leather belts.
I swallowed my sobs instantly, afraid he'll resolve to the whip if I persist. I could feel the panick attack doctor Mike struggled to fix years back seeping back.
"Go do your henna. Now!"
I got pissed. Go do your henna? Does he think he is talking to a three year old? Gaining confidence from my anger, i snapped at him.
"I am not the little girl you molested and beat anymore Sani! I have put it behind me so you just need to leave me alone!"
A stinging slap rocked my face, effectively cutting my ranting short. I could taste blood in my mouth.
"DON'T YOU EVER, IN YOUR MISERABLE LIFE, TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! You useless little girl!"
He thundered. At this point, I was shaking. He was going to beat me up. I could feel it, i could see rage dancing in his dark brown orbs. It was happening all over again. It was happening.
