In the Heart of Darkness

Chapter 8: Shattered Hopes

Zara woke up before the sun rose, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. Today was the day she had been dreaming of for so long: her first day at university. 

Her hands trembled as she picked up the clothes she had laid out the night before—a soft, pastel-colored shalwar kameez with delicate embroidery. It was modest, yet elegant, just like her. She could barely contain her enthusiasm, even as she tied her dupatta carefully over her head. 

She looked at herself in the mirror, imagining what her life would be like from now on. She was going to university, starting a new chapter, and for once, she felt like everything was falling into place.

Nancy knocked on the door softly and peeked in. "Are you ready, madam? You look beautiful today. I can see the excitement in your eyes."

Zara smiled, her heart warming at Nancy's words. "Yes, I am. It feels like a dream, Nancy. I still can't believe I'm going to university."

Nancy chuckled, her eyes soft with affection. "Then let's make sure you have the best first day ever."

They headed downstairs for breakfast, where Ibrahim was already sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee. Zara felt a bit nervous but happy to see him. As she approached, he looked up and smiled ever so slightly—a rare sight for Zara, but she noticed the hint of pride in his expression.

"Good morning," Ibrahim said, gesturing for her to sit. "I hear today is a big day for you."

Zara blushed slightly, sitting down across from him. "Yes... my first day at university."

Ibrahim nodded thoughtfully, placing his coffee cup down. "I've arranged for a driver to take you to university from now on. Nancy will go with you today to make sure you know your way around. If you need anything, just let her know."

"Thank you," Zara whispered, feeling grateful. It wasn't just the gesture; it was the way he said it, like he cared about her comfort and safety. It softened something inside her.

Nancy and Zara left shortly after breakfast. As they drove toward the university, Zara felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. When they arrived, the campus was stunning—large, modern buildings set amidst lush greenery, with students milling about everywhere. It felt like another world. Her heart swelled with hope as Nancy guided her through the grounds, pointing out important places and reassuring her.

"This is where your classes will be," Nancy said with a gentle smile, placing a reassuring hand on Zara's arm. "Remember, if anything happens, I'm just a call away."

Zara smiled nervously, feeling the weight of the moment. "Thank you, Nancy. You've been so kind."

Nancy left, and Zara walked into her first class, feeling the nervous excitement bubbling inside her. The room was full of students—most of them chatting with friends, some on their phones.

She quickly found a seat near the back, hoping to blend in. But it wasn't long before she realized how different she looked from the other students. Most of the girls wore Western-style clothing—jeans, fitted tank tops, with designer bags slung over their shoulders. Zara, in her traditional shalwar kameez and dupatta, stood out like a sore thumb.

The class passed without incident, but during the break, things took a turn for the worse. As Zara was walking down the hall, a group of students stopped her. They were all dressed in expensive, fashionable clothes, their eyes sharp and judgmental.

"Hey, look who we have here," one of the girls said, her voice dripping with mockery. "The village girl. Did your parents send you to university as some kind of charity project?"

Zara's face flushed with embarrassment, but she tried to ignore them. She clutched her dupatta tightly, hoping they would lose interest. But they didn't.

"Why are you wearing that?" one of the boys said, stepping closer and tugging at her dupatta slightly. Zara flinched. "Isn't it a little outdated? Oh wait, sorry—maybe you're stuck in the past."

They laughed cruelly as Zara stood frozen, her heart pounding. Then, suddenly, one of the boys yanked her dupatta off her shoulders. "Oops, sorry! It slipped," he said with a smirk, holding the fabric up like a trophy.

Zara's heart stopped. She felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. The group erupted into laughter, their faces cruel and mocking.

"Relax, it was just a mistake," the boy said, smirking as he tossed the dupatta back to her. "Or maybe it wasn't?"

Zara's breath hitched, and her vision blurred with tears as she grabbed her dupatta and quickly wrapped it back around her. She could feel their eyes on her, mocking her, stripping her of her dignity. She stumbled back, terrified, her body trembling with a mix of shame and fear.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, but Zara didn't hear it over the sound of her heart racing. She quickly ran out of the building, her head down, trying to hold back her tears. She had never felt so small, so humiliated in her life.

When her driver arrived to pick her up, Zara rushed into the car without saying a word, her tears finally spilling over. She held her dupatta tightly against her chest, feeling as if she had lost a piece of herself today.

As soon as she got home, she rushed past Nancy without saying a word and locked herself in her room. The moment the door clicked shut, she collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Nancy noticed her strange behavior and knocked on the door. "Madam, are you okay? Please open the door."

Zara's voice cracked as she answered, "I'm fine, Nancy. Please...just leave me alone."

Nancy frowned, knowing something wasn't right. Zara had been so excited to start university, but now she was refusing to even talk. Still, she didn't push her and left Zara alone.

Zara lay on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, feeling as though she was drowning in her own pain. The thought of facing those students again made her feel sick to her stomach. She had wanted so badly to belong, but now...now she just felt like an outsider, unwanted and ridiculed.

Hours passed, and Nancy continued to knock at Zara's door for dinner, but she remained silent.

Nancy, worried by Zara's silence, went to get Ibrahim. He came quickly, his face tense with concern, and came to the door himself. "Zara, open the door." 

When there was no response, his worry grew. "Zara," he repeated more firmly, "I'm coming in."He forcefully opened the door and found her lying on the bed, her face streaked with tears. His expression softened with concern.

"Zara?" Ibrahim's voice was firm yet gentle. "What's wrong?"

Zara didn't look up, her voice hoarse. "I don't want to talk to anyone, Ibrahim. I'm feeling sick."

Ibrahim knelt beside the bed, gently feeling her forehead for a fever. "You don't have a fever."

She closed her eyes, fighting the fresh wave of tears. "I have a bad headache. I just want to rest."

Ibrahim studied her, sensing something deeper was wrong. He didn't push her for answers but simply nodded. "You need to eat something first," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Then you can take medicine and rest."

"I'm not hungry," Zara protested weakly, but Ibrahim didn't give her a choice. 

Too exhausted to argue, Zara reluctantly agreed. Ibrahim helped her to her feet and guided her to the dining table. They ate in silence, with Ibrahim not asking any questions, respecting her need for space. He could tell something had deeply upset her, but he also knew it wasn't the right time to push for answers.

After dinner, Zara quietly returned to her room, still feeling the weight of the day's events. She went to the balcony for fresh air, tears still burning behind her eyelids, wondering how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.

As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, she wondered if she would ever fit into this new world. Ibrahim's quiet support was a strange comfort, but in her heart, she still felt lost, unsure of what the future would hold.

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