Unapologetically

chapter three

The cotton felt cheap in her hands as she grazed the material with the pad of her thumb. It was a simple dress, white with yellow lilies embroidered into the kameez. Marwa hadn't wanted in a long time, but when she was passing by the bazaar, the dress billowing in the wind from the vendor's stall called out to her.

"This is the last piece left, madam! Only 800 rupees for a dupatta, kameez, and shalwar." The man had a slight accented Urdu, hinting his Pashtun heritage as he tiredly showcased the suit.

Marwa nodded grimly, her heart falling at the price. 800 rupees. 800 rupees. What was 800 rupees?

Once upon a time 800 rupees was nothing. It was the price of a pen that she liked, or a small hairpin. Once upon a time she played in the thousands and millions. Once upon a time she had suits lined up at her disclosure, her most favorite being one of light blue color worth nearly 34,000 rupees.

Today 800 rupees was a considerable fraction of her rent. Today 800 rupees was enough for her transportation. Today 800 rupees could help buy the groceries and her nani's medicine. Today 800 rupees mocked her.

She could've bargained. But she didn't. What was the point? He was just trying to make a living after all. "I'm sorry, I don't have enough."

The vendor's face turned sour, indicating his disappointment. Marwa turned around, pulling the shawl closer to her face as the bitter reminder of her past sparked her eyes.

Marwa had just finished a shift at the cafe, her hands having been scrubbed raw after wiping the tables and closing up. She hated her hands. It seemed as if bleach ran through her veins rather than blood.

She walked briskly. If she walked just a bit faster, she could reach the library earlier, get the books she needed for her assignment, and be able to go home faster.

She wanted to cry when she felt the sharp pain shooting up her leg. She looked down, raising her foot to find the threadbare khussa embedded with a nail.

"Shit!"

She crouched, pulling out the nail as nimbly as she could. It had just barely broken the skin of her sole, but she knew she'd need a tetanus shot now.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

If she got the shot, she couldn't get the books in time. If she didn't, she'd get sick. Too sick to work her double shifts and go to college the rest of the week.

She grimaced, limping to the closest clinic. She'd much rather face Professor Zahrun's wrath than let any penny go by unearned.

///

"What do you mean you couldn't? This assignment was worth half your grade, Marwa."

She bit her tongue, played with the skin of her cuticles.

"Look at me when I talk to you." He ordered.

She did. She looked at him. She wished she could tell someone the truth. But she'd learned the hard way that people didn't like to listen to what they didn't want to hear.

"I simply couldn't. My fault of course. I'm sorry."

"I'm asking you why because as a student teacher your grades slipping this much is detrimental to your position. You know I'll give out a zero."

She met his gaze fiercely. "Any reason why is an excuse, Professor. I don't make excuses."

He glared at her, sitting back down. "Tell me why you think it's a good time to act smart with me."

"I'm not."

"You are!"

"Why does it bother you this much?" She finally let out an exasperated sigh. "There were at least ten people besides me who didn't turn it in!"