Bewitched

5

MUMTAZ

The pulsing beat of the music reverberated through the walls, a thrum that seemed to echo in my chest. The room was a kaleidoscope of strobe lights and bodies moving in rhythm to the blaring sound. I stood off to the side, trying to blend into the wallpaper, my anxiety gnawing at the edges of my confidence. This was so far out of my comfort zone, I couldn't even see it from where I was standing.

I had never snuck out before—ever. It was one of the few things my father and brothers were strict about. They let me have the world, but they drew the line at me running around town at night. "For your safety," they always said. And even though I could do whatever I wanted when I was abroad, far away from their prying eyes, home was a different story. I wasn't sure what had possessed me to agree to come to this party with Badiyya. Maybe it was the thrill of breaking a rule. Or maybe it was the fact that she could be pretty persuasive when she wanted to be.

Badiyya, my cousin and partner-in-crime, seemed completely at ease, laughing and chatting with a group of people I didn't recognize. Meanwhile, I was doing my best impression of a wallflower, sipping on my Red Bull and hoping no one would notice how out of place I felt. The drink wasn't helping; my nerves were still on high alert.

Suddenly, a group of our mutual friends rushed over, their faces flushed with excitement. "Let's take this party somewhere else," one of them said, his voice loud over the music. "The vibes here are kind of dead."

Badiyya immediately grabbed my hand, nearly spilling her Red Bull in the process. "Yeah, let's go have some actual fun," she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I hesitated, glancing at the clock on my phone. It was almost 2 AM. "Shouldn't we head home? It's late," I whispered to her, my voice laced with the anxiety I was trying so hard to suppress.

"Relax, and loosen up, Mumtaz," Badiyya replied, rolling her eyes as she tugged me toward the door. "Even if we get caught, you'll get us out of it. You always do."

I wanted to protest more, but I could see I was outnumbered. The next thing I knew, we were piling into one of our friend's cars, speeding off to who knows where. I had to admit, once we got to the club, I did start to relax. The music was louder, the energy higher, and for a while, I let myself get lost in the moment. I danced with Badiyya, drank way too many Red Bulls, and forgot about the time ticking away.

But then, somewhere in the middle of the chaos, I checked the time again, and my stomach dropped. It was 3:30 AM. Panic started to bubble up inside me. I couldn't afford to stay out much longer—my father would be waking up soon for morning prayers, and he always checked in on me. I needed to get home, now.

I scanned the dim, crowded room for Badiyya, but she was nowhere to be seen. The club was so packed, it was hard to tell where one person ended, and another began. I stepped outside, hoping to get a better signal and called her.

"Mumtaz! Where are you?" Badiyya's voice was barely audible over the noise on her end.

"Where am I? Where are you?" I snapped, trying to keep my voice steady. "We need to go. Now."

"Oh, I left a while ago. I couldn't find you, so I thought you'd already left."

"What?" My voice rose in pitch, disbelief washing over me. "You just abandoned me? Without even looking for me?"

"There's still one more friend there," she said, sounding unbothered. "Find him, he'll get you home. Bye!" The line went dead before I could respond.

I cursed under my breath, glaring at the phone. How could she just leave me here? Alone? This wasn't like Badiyya. Well, maybe it was, but it still stung.