Halfway Across The World (A Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

(A/N): Remember, everything italicized that Yaser, Zayn, or one of the servants say is meant to be in Urdu but that's the translation to English. Also, the words with asterisks (*) are Pakistani words whose meanings are written below the announcements! Thanks to those who read😘

"Mariam!" Yaser called out.

"Yes?"

"Come here."

"Coming!" the young girl responded.

She had just cleaned the whole house, again.

"I want to tell you something," Yaser smiled, taking her small hands into his wrinkly ones.

"I will be going to America for the summer, will you be okay here with your mama?"

"Of course, sir. I will take care of everything around here and it's nothing different from the other summers.." she assures with a grand smile.

"You're such a great child, may Allah SWT* bless you with every piece of happiness left in this world," he said putting a hand on the top of her head, and kissing her tan forehead.

"Thank you." she murmured quietly.

"Still, you have to take me to the airport," he lightly teased.

"Of course, Father." she smiled. She was aware of what she was saying. She knew she had no father, but she had Yaser, and that was more than enough.

Mariam was very bright even thought she went to school for 3 hours a day from 8-11. That was the only education she could receive, considering she still had to work for Yaser.

It was quite obvious that Yaser provided Mariam and Saleema with all their daily needs, yet they still worked for him. Many would ask why? Because what Yaser did/still do for them was something you could never repay. Not even with all the money in the world.

It was already 2:27 in the afternoon, and Mariam had done no work. She was distracted by her paranoia that clouded her head.

She was very paranoid of any part of her family leaving the country. After her father died in Afghanistan, she didn't want anything bad happening to her family. Yaser was considered to be her father. And if Yaser died in America, Mariam would probably loser herself once again.

Would he die in America? Would somebody steal from Yaser?

She wondered.

Yaser's flight departed at 4:30 and he needed to be at the airport at 3:30 for all the inspections.

Mariam had about an hour to get ready, to get his bags into the car, and to get him to the airport on time.

--

She took off her shalwar kameez* and her undergarments. The sweat on her tanned body, making it harder for the clothes to peel off. Sweat blanketed her nose and she despised being sweaty. Although she was used to the heat in Pakistan, she hated it.

She opened bathroom door, the stuffy room felt muggy against her bare skin.

The smell of pee entered her nostrils. The other servants must've used her bathroom.. Again..

She hated when that happened, but she really had no say in it. The last time she complained, Yaser just said, "They're too little to understand where to pee.. Thank God they didn't pee on the rug!" shrugged with a laugh.

She loved Yaser, but Yaser was too kind to understand her struggle.

She strides over to the green toilet that matched the paint on the walls, and flushed it immediately.