8
“You worthless idiot!” Faizah said. She shoved Ziza into the hallway, shutting the front door. Ziza stumbled and she fell, landing on her hands and knees.
“You just had to do it, didn’t you, you imbecile?”
Ziza sobbed, she tried to crawl back onto her feet, only to have Faizah swiftly and expertly, swipe her hands from beneath her with her foot, sending her tumbling to the marble floor, head first.
“Twenty thousand dollars from my bank account!” The ex-militant fumed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. Please forgive me.” She quickly got up on her knees, facing her attacker.
“I want my money back!” Faizah kicked her in the back, making her cry out in pain.
“I don’t waste money on people like you!” She spat on the floor close to where Ziza now knelt before her. Angry, Faizah reached out to Aliyah who all the while had been standing at the top of the stairs.
“You even dared to lay a hand on my daughter!” Aliyah gave her mother’s favourite, old riding crop.
‘No, please. Please!” She used it in the usual areas, Ziza’s back and thighs. The hard leather bit painfully into her flesh with every lash. Faizah was always clever to deliver all her blows where no one would see the damage that would manifest its self in the form of minor cuts and dark bruises.
Ziza tried crawling away from the woman’s crude ministrations, only to have her yanked back by her long hair. She cried out, kicking her feet to try and get away. Alas, her attempts were futile. Aliyah watched from the top of the stair case, her arms folded across her chest.
“I am going to get my money back,” Faizah clutched Ziza’s tear stricken face in her hand, “We are going to go back to that palace in two days. You are coming with whether you don’t want to. I will drag you by your hair if I have to,” Faizah said the last statement through her teeth, applying more pressure to Ziza’s jaw and yanking harder at her hair, causing her to weep from the pain.
“We are going to go to their Majesties, place a query and you are going to be the sweet, innocent and quiet daughter. You will listen to everything I say. Am I clear?” Faizah sneered. Ziza frantically nodded as more tears spilled from her eyes.
“Am I clear?!”
“Y—yes.” She sobbed.
“Get your filthy self out of my house.”
Ziza didn’t need to be told twice. The girl couldn’t have scrambled out of the house any faster, despite the aching pain consuming her entire body. She didn’t stop until she was safely locked in her flat. Only then did she slump to the floor, sobbing, but not another tear fell. She’d reached that point where they were no more. It felt like hours later when she finally stood up from the floor and limped to her small bathroom.
After filling the tub with warm water, she disrobed her soiled uniform, cautious not to touch any discoloured and sensitive parts on her body. The water did little to soothe her broken soul, but her body was once again accepting the treatment.
She felt pathetic. When was she going to grow the strength to fight back? To stand up to Faizah and her cruel ways. She was twenty-four, for pity’s sake! If only it were as easy as she imagined it, she’d have long since freed herself. She’d have done it at the snap of her fingers. Sighing and shaking her head pitifully, Ziza sat back in her tub and allowed her head to go blank. Her head ached with all this thinking, bruised and battered all she wanted was rest, to just be.
Waking up the following afternoon was an ordeal. Her jaw was aching just as bad as the rest of her body, it felt like she had seriously overworked her muscles. Ziza struggled to get up from her bed, wincing and hissing as she did so. Clutching her left ribs, she shakily walked out of her bedroom, headed for her kitchen and her freezer. She opened the door and after deciding to not pay attention to her body; she hauled out the ten kilograms of ice that she never really had use of other than just keeping it in there, but glad that it was coming handy. Dragging the thick plastic to her bathroom, she emptied all of its contents into the tub and opened the cold tape of water after placing it in the plug.
She had known Faizah would have forced her to pay her back the money used for her bail, but never would have imagined something as outrageous as this. She wanted nothing to do with either the Palace or the royal family, especially Prince Rafiq. Heck, she never wanted to step foot in that place, even if her life depended on it. The man was powerful alright. Not to forget cold hearted and merciless. Ziza winced when she remembered the blow she received that night. Talk about no respect for women at all. She remembered how not even the slightest hesitation crossed his features before hitting her. But because of Faizah’s plans, she had to go back. Ziza couldn’t help shivering at the thought of coming face to face with Prince Rafiq again.
If she had known beforehand how things would have panned out, she’d have listened to Ferran and stayed home and cry over her breakup with Kevin. Instead, she had to worry about what was going to become of her future. She had a court date being scheduled for her having assaulted people. Sure, back when she was in early teens and still living on the streets, she would have imagined easily, but things changed. They rescued her from that kind of life, and when her father found her, he made sure nothing like that would happen. Yet here she was.
She closed the tape once the tub was almost full. Ziza gently peeled off the loose night dressed. The battered girl took in a deep breath before climbing in and sinking her body, save for her head, underneath the ice-cold water legs first. It wasn’t long before her teeth were chattering as if she were in the North Pole, but she willed herself to stay in the water. At least after the bath, she wouldn’t feel as much pain when her stepmother dragged her back to the Abu Marad Palace later.
She only hoped she would make it out of that ‘session’ without a scratch. A dry chuckled left her lips at a memory that suddenly resurfaced in her mind. It was the first time Faizah had ever laid a hand on Ziza. The first few weeks of Ziza having taken residence in the Bashar residence. She remembered that day as if it were yesterday, instead of it being nearly ten years ago. She remembered that her father had travelled with business, that came back home almost two weeks later.
Sixteen-year-old Ziza sat cross-legged on the lawn of their backyard as she practiced her favourite music piece on her violin for her music recital at the school talent show next week. She wanted everything to be perfect. She was so lost in the melodies she hadn’t noticed the girl with arms crossed over her chest that now stood before her until the said girl cleared her throat. She interrupted Ziza mid-play and glared up at the one year younger girl.
“What do you want?” Ziza rolled her eyes at Aliyah as she laid her instrument on the grass.
“Mom is home, she wants to know why you didn’t clean the stables as she told you to.” The girl smirked, obviously delighted.
“It’s not my job. It’s why we have stable hands here. Besides, I would never do her so-called punishment for something you did. So tell Faizah, that if she wants them clean, she can clean them herself, I’m busy.” Ziza clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. A sign of defiance and disrespect.
Aliyah’s eyes widened, and she gaped at the older girl’s reply, “I’m going to tell mother what you said!” Aliyah gasped before spinning on her heels and running to the house.
Ziza shrugged, then perched her violin between her shoulder and chin. Thanks to Aliyah, she had to start from the beginning again.
But it wasn’t long after when Faizah strode out of the house, charging like a bull in Ziza’s direction. The small whip in the woman’s hand didn’t go unnoticed by the young girl. Ziza was neither shaken nor intimidated by Faizah. She had lived on the streets before. She could take anything and anyone on. Little had she known she was way in over her head.
“You little fiend, I want you to repeat what you said to Aliyah into my face.” The woman fumed as she looked down at the young girl. Ziza sighed and placed her violin gently back into its case. As she stood up slowly to her feet, she peered behind Faizah and saw the fourteen-year-old smirking at her as she stood behind her mother’s skirts. Typical Aliyah, Ziza rolled her eyes at that thought.
“I don’t like to repeat myself. I’m sure once is enough.” Ziza folded her hands across her chest as she looked her stepmother in the eye.
“You will learn to respect me in this house—”
“But I won’t, you’re not my mother and this is my father’s house! You earn respect, not demanded it.” Ziza cut off the woman.
“Aren’t you a smart Aleck?” Faizah raised an eyebrow at the girl’s guts to backchat.
“Whatever, it will not work Faizah. I’m not scared of you.”
“Well darling, let me tell you something. You should be.” Faizah gently cupped Ziza’s jaw as she spoke, causing the girl to flinch from her touch. Ziza surely regretted the words that left her mouth later.
“Get your hands away from me you old hag!” As soon as those words have left her lips, a loud smack echoed in the whole backyard. It was so loud that even Aliyah flinched at the sound of it. Ziza gasped as she clutched her stinging cheek in her hand, looking back at the seething woman with tears blurring her vision.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson you will never forget you, little spoiled brat! You will respect me! This is my house!” Faizah fumed all the while grabbing hold of the girl’s baggy shirt and tearing it from the back. Ziza tried to fight her off, but she found the woman to be significantly stronger than she expected. Faizah swept her legs from underneath her feet so she fell onto her front on the ground. The warm air brushing against her back told her it was bare. Faizah pressed the side of her face into the ground using her knee, and by the pressure and pain it brought, Ziza knew she would not be gentle.
“Aliyah come and sit on her legs!” Faizah ordered. At those words, Ziza tried to fight even harder, but it was all to no avail. She felt a weight locking her legs from moving about, and she knew the other girl had complied. The next thing she felt wasn’t pleasant at all. The crack of a whip accompanied furious fire across her naked back. The pain was all she comprehended at that moment as Faizah delivered lash after lash onto her back. Ziza cried until her voice was raw and hoarse. She cried until there were no tears left, until only whimpers left her lips. She had tried to get away, nails digging and clawed at the ground until dirt caked her nails. All from the pain coming from the flogging, she was receiving. The poor girl at that point had lost count of how many lashes she had received. Relief flooded her limp body when Faizah released it from her tight hold.
“That ought to teach you never to talk to me in such a manner,” Faizah cupped the girl’s red and tear-drenched face, lifting it so she was in Ziza’s line of sight, “next time, think twice before you speak, chose your words wisely. If you so much as blurt this to any living soul I will make sure you will go back to the streets you came from and believe me when I say I will make sure you will not survive this time. I have the power to make you disappear for a long, long time little girl. And do trust me when I say you are a mistake I won’t hesitate to erase. Now get up from my lawn and go clean yourself up!” The tall woman stood up and left the girl struggling to get onto her feet.