The Rich Life

30

I slammed the door when I got in.

"Karamat? Dad? Come here. Right now," I screamed, my voice echoing through the house. They were already sitting in the living room. Karamat got up to give me a hug and I slapped him so hard that he fell back on the chair again. Silently.

"Asalamalaykum Zahra," My Dad said sourly.

"How dare you," I fumed in the general direction of my Dad, "Haven't you learnt by now that you can't control my life?"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"I know about this little agreement you have. Manipulating me into marrying Karamat. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS OFF,"

"Zahra," Karamat began, "I swear it's not what it looks like,"

I glared at him, "Shut-up. You're my Dad's stooge. What the fuck are you even doing here. Get out of my house. And take your bloody ring with you. You're dead to me," I chucked the box which was close to me (I was showing Dad earlier) at his head. It missed. Narrowly.

"If you let me explain,"

"Are you deaf? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE. GET OUT OF MY LIFE,"

He took one murderous look at me, one so similar to the ones my brothers gave me, "You're a miserable kutti (bitch) No one on earth could ever tolerate your unbearable bratty behaviour,"

Ah, there it was. Dreamboy wasn't so dreamy now. The first red flag should've been that he hung around my brothers who always had the most unsavoury company. I glared at him, "I'm the miserable little kutti who is about to break your fucking nose if you don't leave,"

It was so quick that I didn't even have time to figure out what was happening. Karamat raised his hand and slapped me so hard that I could see stars. A throbbing pain tingled across my cheek. I raised my hand and I automatically knew it was red. Dad got up and trust me, when you cross my dad, you better start digging up your grave.

"She needed to be taught a lesson. She needs to remember at the end of the day, she is nothing but a girl," Karamat sneered, "And not even a virgin. Who would want her? She's used goods. A whore,"

There it was again. The misogyny, that I'm lesser because I'm a girl. The double standards in the amazing culture. Karamat told me he lost his virginity aged 15. If anything, he's the whore.

Dad laughed and for one second I thought he was agreeing with him. Then he punched him in his gut with such force, that Karamat doubled over and started retching, "SAY THAT AGAIN TO ME YOU INSOLENT BOY," He roared, "HOW DARE YOU HIT MY DAUGHTER. WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? "

Karamat whimpered, curled up on the floor and Dad rained hits, blows and slaps all over him. He tried defending himself but it was no use. Who do you think taught Asif, Waqas and Esa boxing? Then when he started bleeding from the corner of his lips, I begged him to stop.

"DON'T YOU OR YOUR FAMILY EVER STEP FOOT IN MY HOUSE EVER AGAIN. AND IF YOU EVER TELL ANYONE WHAT HAPPENED HERE TONIGHT, I'LL COME BACK AND FINISH YOU OFF," He shouted at the cowering Karamat.

"My father will.." He choked out.

"Your father will what? He is commanded by MY daughter, the future mayor of London. She is not just a girl. Your Father is afraid of me boy. Your mother envied and respected my wife. My sons still scare you. Think twice before making empty threats you behenchod (sisterfucker)," He spat on Karamat who lay still.

The thing is, this would horrify any normal person. But Dad was always brutal. There are moments in my childhood when he beat people this hard, sometimes his own family. He beat Mum. He beat me and my brothers. Not as hard but hard enough that it stung. So yes. I'm used to seeing sights like this. I still flinch though, imagining that was me.