Make Me Your Villain

Chapter Thirty Two

Hayat Azhar

I jolted upwards, gasping for air. My eyes flickered several times, the lighting too bright for my vision to adjust to.

"Are you awake?" A voice made me snap my head to the side. One of the workers stood beside the door, her hand on the switchboard as she'd turned the lights on.

"We're short staffed. Come to the kitchen."

Disregarding my startled reaction altogether, she left the room while I struggled to comprehend what had happened some moments ago.

Beads of sweat trickled down my neck as my hair laid adhesive to my face.

I tugged at the neckline of my shirt, breathing unsteadily. What...what was that?

A nightmare?

I was dreaming. None of that was real.

I closed my eyes, moving a hand to my chest in relief. It had been a very long time since I had such a horrible nightmare.

Sleeping in a new place was always difficult. Top that up with the fact that the bed and the pillow were as hard as a rock and the sheets reeked a weird scent made this zizz all the more uncomfortable.

South East Asian music filtered into the room from outside and I released a long breath; it was probably this deafening music that triggered my nightmare.

My eyes flitted towards my phone beside the pillow and for a moment, I was overcome with nerves.

But clicking on the screen displayed no texts in return.

Shazain didn't hurt Zohaib or Sameer. It was a dream. It didn't happen in real life.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. It was foolish of me, but my mind had subconsciously, against my will, started to believe Shazain and trust his words; that he wasn't a threat to my life.

This nightmare contradicted what my brain believed was the reality.

Ugh, I needed to stop wasting time and get up.

I stretched my stiff limbs while scanning the room I was in. It seemed to have been vacant for a while, specks of dust covered the few furniture pieces that occupied the little space.

After fixing my dupatta, I left for the restrooms to tidy my appearance.

When I went to the kitchen, the woman who'd come to call me abruptly stopped talking and nudged another woman to look at me.

They regarded me with mocking stares and one of them rolled her eyes.

"Some of us have been working nonstop and then there are those who get paid for sleeping."

I turned a deaf ear and walked past them when another one added.

"I heard the sleep isn't good though. People wake up with nightmares when they don't deserve the privileges they get. It's only fair, no?"

I wanted to spin around and tell them to cry about it but I didn't.

I did not want to fight them.

Because I knew we were all on the same boat; all of us were here earning to survive. I didn't see them as my competition, I merely wanted to live.

"You girl," one of the senior staff pointed to me. "Prepare a tray of dinner and take it up to Sameer saheb's room."

I hesitated. "Uh, I'm going to go check on dadi."

"And who's going to take Sameer saheb his food?" She countered, raising an eyebrow. "You get paid to work. This is a part of your duty."

I fisted my palms, frustrated. Sure dadi told me to look after her and the little kitten but that didn't mean everyone else was prohibited from serving them. It seemed like all the workers had collectively agreed to avoid working for either dadi or Sameer because they felt like it was only my duty to do that.