The Rich Life

2

"Zahra wake up! It's your wedding," Mum screamed. I woke up with a start, panicked. My marriage. For Gods sake. I check the clock next to my bed: The time was 6:07. Mum was standing over my bed, with all her gold bangles in her arm. I sighed. This was going to be a long day.

"Hurry up. The Makeup artist is coming at 8. You need to shower, eat and prepare for the biggest day of your life," Mum said. There were tears in her eyes as she said the last sentence. My feet touched the cold wooden floor and I stood up stretching

"My baby has grown up," Mum pinched my cheeks. Then she gave me an enormous hug. I felt numb. All my life I had been craving some sort of touch from her and voila: it was on the day when I was getting married. On the day where she never has to see me, the burden, ever again. The worst part was I don't want to marry. Mum said a few more instructions as she bustled around in my room. I threw open the curtains. It was a grey day. The sky looked like it was threatening to spill over rain.

I don't know why I ever agreed to this marriage.

"What horrid weather for summer," Mum commented. I said nothing as I went to shower. The panic was eating me. What if I don't get out in time? What if the flight is cancelled? I switched on the hot shower and washed quickly. I can't delay any time on this. I pulled on a black tracksuit. There's nothing suspicious about that, is there? My room was bare. All the things had either been moved to Saif's house or in a storage facility heading towards America in a few days. Everyone thinks it's in Saif's house but those things were a ruse.

I went downstairs. My plan had to work. It was a risky move to leave my passport in my car. It could've been stolen. If it had been, then all my planning would be for nothing and I would be in a loveless and hateful marriage. I shuddered at the thought of Saif's hands over me. Again. I checked the fridge and feigned surprise as I looked for the smoked salmon to put on my toast. Dad was reading the newspaper and mum was peeling an egg. I took a deep breath.

"Mum. We ran out of smoked salmon. I need it for my toast," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. Dad put down his newspaper.

"We have Nutella. Surely you can survive on that? Of all days do you need it?" Dad asked, looking irritated. This is going to fall to bits if I don't play my cards. I was so scared that I thought I might pass out from the nausea. Because if Dad suspected something, I might as well kill myself. Even though I'm grown up now, I'm still afraid of his awful rage spilling over me.

"I promise I'll be 10 minutes tops. Waitrose is literally just up the road. You know I eat breakfast quickly," I replied back, struggling to keep my voice steady. Freedom was so close, I could practically feel it. I had to change tactics if I ever wanted to get out of the house, "Dad. I want my Shaadi (wedding) to be perfect. I can't have that unless I have my favourite breakfast," I gave a demure smile. Praying and begging internally.

"Come on Hassan. Zahra is our responsible girl. She keeps to her word," Mum told Dad. They haven't trusted me my whole life. Why now? Oh wait. The mention of my wedding day to be any less than perfect was a catastrophe to Mum. Dad went back to his newspaper and waved me away.

My brothers, Asif, Esa and Waqas were getting ready in their rooms with their wives. They were like peacocks and I felt completely excluded from my sisters-in-law. Too inexperienced for their liking but they started warming up to me as my wedding day approached. We all lived under the same roof in a huge ass house that could accommodate us ten times over.

I took that as a yes and I ran upstairs to get my keys and my phone.  Before I went downstairs, I had packed my toothbrush and other stuff in a small washbag. I took that too. Damn. I'm going to miss them all, even though they caused so much pain and damage. They left me no other choice. For them to understand that I don't want to marry Saif, I have to take the extreme route.