After that, she worked. She worked like one condemned who was writing a letter in prison to save himself before he faced the noose. She worked like a desperate one in debt, working each day to pay it all off, bit by bit. She worked like the hummingbird that ekes out its home in trees; the job was long, hard, and noisy, but in the loss would become her gain.
Then - booyakasha! She was done! And it only took sleepless nights, dark circles complimenting her eyes, and pretending to be asleep with her laptop under her pillow every time her mum suspiciously checked on her. Easy!
She knew it was finally time to present her work to her family.
"People, watch." she ordered. Her bemused family sat round the huge, cream dinner table in the perfectly coordinated cream and matcha kitchen, her mother frowning while wiping off a few drops of Majid's Yazoo that had spilled on the white seat he occupied.
Her father, luckily, was back (he'd lost in the final round and come second overall, but secured lots of sponsors and advertise revenue to keep them going comfortably, so was in a decent mood nonetheless), her little brothers were a little tired (Abdul was nodding off), and her mother had finally finished using Vanish on the textile chair was looking at Arifa's laptop screen impatiently.
"Well?" she asked, perfectly filled eyebrow arched.
"Behold my travel channel." Arifa announced proudly.
Arifa clicked 'play' on a waiting video, and it began to play.
After a few minutes, it ended.
There was silence.
YOU ARE READING
I'd Tell You My Dreams but Then You'd Better Say Yes
Teen FictionSixteen year old quirky Arifa Zaid's sick of being babied her whole life by her famous beauty guru mum and boxer dad. Loved and spoilt, she's never needed money. Her doting, cautious parents know their unique (eh-hem, odd) little cherub's always ha...
