METANOIA

Chapter 9

I sprinted as fast as my cumbersome, poofy dress and precarious heels would allow. The thundering hooves of the Malik dynasty's mounted Hynahs drew closer, their relentless pursuit fueling my adrenaline.

I risked a glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the Fazal palace fading into the distance. My heart pounded against my chest like a drum, my feet screaming in protest as I pushed myself to run faster. But their horses were gaining on me, their speed leaving my limbs in the dust.

Just as all hope seemed lost, my heels transformed into running shoes, and I was imbued with a magical burst of speed. I darted past rows of towering trees, their branches whispering "run away, run away" in a haunting melody.
Though I ran with incredible velocity, the foreboding pathway stretched out before me like an endless abyss, leading nowhere.

Suddenly, raging flames blocked my path, and I skidded to a stop. I looked up to find my father soaring above, perched on a dragon's back, clad in a ridiculous armor suit. I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. But my merriment was short-lived, as the dragon unleashed another blast of fire, sending me fleeing for my life.

I came to an abrupt halt, finding myself enveloped in total darkness.

I took a tentative step forward, only to discover myself teetering on the edge of a treacherous cliff.

I sucked in deep breaths, my heart racing with fear, knowing that if I lost my grip, I would plummet hundreds of feet into the abyss.
I summoned every last ounce of strength to maintain my hold on the rock, my only lifeline.
After what felt like an eternity, a large, black-gloved hand reached out and grasped mine, pulling me toward safety.
I looked up, my gaze locking onto piercing olive green eyes that seemed to bore into my soul from behind a black Zorro mask.
The intensity in those eyes was unnerving, and I found myself trying to lift the mask to uncover the face behind it.
But in doing so, I lost my hold on the rock. My body went limp, helpless against the pull of gravity, and my screams were swallowed by the wind.

Just as I was about to hit the ground, my eyes snapped open, and I was met with the welcome relief of realizing it was all just a dream.

"Well, that's one weird dream," Sonia chuckled. "I can't even imagine Uncle Mansoor in armor." Janet said, "Forget Mr. Malik, what about the Zorro guy who was trying to save you? He had green eyes. Do we know anyone with green eyes?" Reza's face flashed across my mind, and before I knew it, I blurted out, "Yeah, Reza Hameedi has green eyes."

Both Sonia and Janet looked at me with their eyebrows raised, amusement dancing in their eyes. "Don't tell me you have the hots for this Reza guy," Sonia said with a grin.

"Call me cliché, but I believe in the saying, 'Never trust those with green eyes.' Janet said authoritative words f wisdom.

"Okay, Grandma Janet, don't make a big deal about it," I said with a mocking smile, leaning forward to snatch the piece of paper from her hand.
"Give it back, Bee!" she protested, trying to grab it back. But I held on, scanning the paper in my hand. "What's this?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"It's an open casting call advert for an upcoming teen show," Janet explained, waving the paper in the air. "Anyone who wants to audition can just show up." She grinned mischievously. "And I'm planning on auditioning for it." Sonia raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "But why? I mean, why now?" she questioned, her tone laced with curiosity.

"Despite not being rich, I got to study in this elite school thanks to my sponsor, Mr. Anderson. I'll be forever grateful to him," Janet said, her eyes sparkling with appreciation.
"But now that I'm 18 and legally an adult, I can't expect him to finance my studies anymore." She propped her elbow onto the table, resting her chin on her palm, and gazed into the distance. "I'm planning on taking a gap year." Her tone was tinged with a hint of sadness, which I didn't like one bit.
But then, her face lit up with determination. "I'll apply to the New York School of Dramatic Arts during my gap year.
With my 5'10" height, pretty face, and killer acting skills, I'm sure I'll land a good role. And then, I'll have enough money to pay my college tuition myself." That was the Janet I knew - fearless, confident, and never willing to give up.

Sonia took Janet's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Is there anything that Janet wants and doesn't get? I bet you, things are going to go your way." I added, placing a supportive hand on Janet's shoulder. "And in case they don't, we're going to pull all the strings to make things go your way."

Janet shook her head, a hint of frustration in her voice. "That's the difference between us. You guys live in your perfect little optimistic world, unaware of real-life struggles." She turned to Sonia. "In three months, you'll be off to Paris, studying jewelry designing in one of the most prestigious institutes, all thanks to your father being a diamond mogul."
Then, she turned to me. "And Bee, your father has everything planned out for you - which college you'll attend, which subjects you'll take. You don't have a care in the world."
"While I'm just leaning on a faint hope," she said, her words dripping with exasperation. "No offense, but life is 99.9% easy for rich people," she added, her face scrunched up in distaste as she spoke her mind.
Sonia just stared at Janet, stunned to the point of speechlessness. I rubbed my temples, Janet's prejudice against posh giving me a throbbing headache.
Heaving a sigh, I finally spoke up, "Take my word for it, Janet, if I could swap my life with yours, I would've in a heartbeat. Rich people are also people, with problems, troubles, and worries. Having seven figures in our bank account doesn't solve shit."
I poured my heart out, "Rich people, of all people, spend the most nights without sleeping and give the most fake smiles. And do I like how my father has controlled my life? You know I don't want to study business. My whole life, I've been told what to do, now I'm so messed up that I don't even know what I want to do."

Just as I was waiting to see how Janet would respond, Larry Chu, the president of the editor's club, suddenly appeared and waved a newspaper in my face.

I grabbed the newspaper and scanned the bold print: "Will you be my prom date?" Underneath, I saw several embarrassing photos of myself from the wedding. One picture showed me with a plate piled high with desserts, which I had intended to share with Sonia and Janet, but the caption made it look like I was a glutton. Another photo caught me mid-trip, with food flying through the air, making me look clumsy. And then there was the dancing photo, taken from a deliberate angle that made me appear crazy and out of control.

Sonia snatched the newspaper from my hand, and Janet leaned in to get a good look at it. I glanced between them, "It's a setup." Realization dawned on us, and we exclaimed in unison, "Veronica the witch!" Sonia's teeth clenched in anger, "She'll pay for this." Janet seethed, her eyes blazing with fury, "I'll pluck her bloody eyeballs out!"

Janet turned to Larry, her eyes sparkling with a flirtatious glint. She traced a finger down his face, batting her eyelashes at him as she took a step closer. "Larry, dear," she purred, "what did she offer you to mess with us?" Larry's eyes widened, and he raised his hands in surrender, realizing he was in trouble. "Girls, I swear, I wasn't willing to do this. Veronica said she wouldn't let Jasmin go to prom with me if I didn't."