Scarred For Life

Chapter 12

*

"Are you sure about this?" Maryam asked as she stared out the window for the umpteenth time.

"Absolutely not," Afrah replied. "I'm only doing this so Umma will get off my back."

"Well, I'm glad you're going ahead with it," she said. "Let's see whether you truly don't need a man in your life."

"I'm perfectly happy, Maryam," Afrah said, turning away from the mirror. "Don't I look happy?"

"You look like you're about to pass out," Maryam said after studying her for a few brief seconds. Afrah's shoulders slumped, and she walked over to the bed and sat down.

"Who am I kidding?" she sighed. "I'm a mess. How could I let Amina talk me into this?"

"You'll be fine, Afrah," Maryam said. "He's not going to bite you, you know."

"You don't understand," she said. "I'd rather do anything else than meet with him. I don't want to listen to him, or even look at him. I don't want to suffer anyone's presence at all."

"As hurtful as your words are," Maryam placed a hand over her heart, "I still think you should go and meet him. You look beautiful. What man would be able to take his eyes off you?"

That was exactly what she was afraid of.

There was something oddly unsettling about the way men looked at her. She had noticed it a long time ago, and it wasn't just her. She had noticed how men, in general, couldn't keep their eyes to themselves whenever a woman walked past. It wasn't just a normal glance to acknowledge the presence of another human in the vicinity; this was a more prolonged and enquiring look, as though they were drinking up the sight of her. The very thought of it made her skin crawl. And she knew the perfect word to describe it:

Lust.

If there was one thing that managed to get under her skin and rile her up, it was the thought of a man staring at her in a remotely lustful way.

It had been lust that drove the demon to her that day. It was lust that kept him going despite her pleading. And it was lust that made every other man want her. Throughout the course of her life, Afrah had declined six men in total, all of whom had come forward with marriage proposals. She just wasn't ready. And frankly, she didn't think she ever would be.

"Can I see his picture again?" Maryam asked.

Afrah pointed to her phone which was on the bedside drawer. Maryam reached for it immediately, and barely thirty seconds later began to squeal like a little girl.

"What is it?" Afrah glared at her.

"Well, you can't deny the fact that he is devilishly handsome," she said as she sat on the bed. Afrah sat beside her, with a bored look in her eyes. "I suppose he is," she said, staring down at the picture. He was sitting on the hood of a car, with one leg propped up beside him as he held onto it. Behind him was a beach she didn't recognize, with the sun setting in the background. He had a carefree smile on his face, and he looked much younger than the last time she'd seen him. There was certainly an odd boyish charm in his eyes, and he looked like he didn't have a care in the world.

"I suppose he is," she said.

"You're one lucky girl," Maryam said as she stood up and returned to her watchpost. "Just look at the handsome man that is throwing himself at you, and you're here thinking of reasons not to go."

"Just forget it," Afrah sighed as she walked over to the mirror once again, examining her reflection. She was wearing a simple black abaya, with silver embroidery at the sleeves and a light grey veil around her head.