The Rich Life

41

I was back in my world of blue. I had missed the serenity and pure bliss of this silence. Something about this was different though. Voices, once again, broke its way through the veil of my dreams and reality, but this time, I could differentiate between them. I was semi-conscious as Krish said. 

They had doped me with morphine. But they woke me regularly, for food, for water. And I listened to them obediently. I had a case of selective mutism and I angled my body away from them all, all of them, thinking and looking at plain, sweet nothing. 

They had all tried to talk to me, Adam, Krish, Dad, Sara. Even my Brothers. Even Caesar and Halima. As you would talk to a child, coaxing and gentle. I hated pity. But I did nothing more than offering a bland smile, craving to go back to my world of dreams. 

I wasn't in my Mughal Empire, with a tyrannical Emperor and his handsome brother. I was...nowhere. And I was there for quite a bit. I would live here forever if I could, away from money, lust, pain, and power. 

It tore my goddamn life apart. All I want is a peaceful life. I made a mental note to concede to my opponent for the Mayor of London. God knows I've done nothing except make some pro-socialist changes, much to the dismay of everyone. 

I peered cross-legged into the distance. A vague figure, wearing an ice-blue suit, was making its way towards me. As I realised who it was, a rotten and sour taste burned my mouth. 

"Amara...Amara...Amara,"  The voice whispered, over and over again. I knew that voice too well. I could feel a lump of panic rising in my throat. 

No, no, no. 

GET ME AWAY FROM THIS NIGHTMARE. Please, don't let me see him. I think it would be the death of me. Please. Please. 

 My breath was quickening and I could see him now, inching ever so close to me. I ran away, but I was going nowhere. Wherever I turned, he was there. When I realised, there was nowhere to go, I slumped down in defeat, my chest rising and falling, blocking my ears and squeezing my eyes shut. 

Come on Zahra. It's a nightmare, like the last one. Wake up and you'll be fine. 

Except, I didn't wake up. 

"After all we've been through. After all we've done. This is what we've come to,"  He said sadly. The tone was reassuring but I screamed. He haunted my nightmares. He was going to take revenge on me, for killing him. I led him to this. It was all my fault. 

"If you're going to kill me, make it quick," I sniffed, wiping the tears. I was too tired to care anymore.  I didn't dare look up at Anthony. I didn't deserve to. He came closer to me, and I trembled, petrified at his touch. 

So very human. So very realistic. 

"Why would I want to do that?"  He asked, playful and teasing, tugging a strand of my dark hair. 

"Because," I answered, "I was the one that took Adam away from you. I was the one who didn't stop Adam, who helped make your life a living hell because I wasn't there. I was the one who defended your tormentor in court. I was the one who dragged your name through the mud at that very same court. I did that and so much more," 

Hesitantly, I tilted my head up to look at him, eyes shining, "I'm sorry," I whispered. Slowly, but gently, he turned over my wrist.

"Is this what you did to yourself, you stupid girl?" He demanded, "Is that why you're here?"

"I'm here because I was drowning in my own misery," I answered, "That's what you said to me. Those were the last words I ever saw from you,"

He sat down beside me, and I buried my face into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, "What a fucked-up pair we are," Tony said, propping me away from him gently, analysing my face, "Why are you sad Amara?"