Two weeks went by without any smiles, laughter and very few words from me. I had abandoned my façade and didn't even bother being nice to anyone. Why should I when I'm being forced to do things I don't want to do? I spent as much time as possible alone and gave everyone the cold shoulder – and I mean everyone.
Sophia seemed really upset by this and sometimes I even felt bad for her; but that little bit of pity was quickly cast away when I remembered what she did for me.
Other than that, everything went by like normal.
It was Saturday evening and I was trying to understand how I could travel to London illegally by watching a documentary on illegal migration. That's when I heard a knock on the door. At first, I ignored it, just like I have been doing for the past couple of weeks. Then, the polite knocking turned into large banging.
"WHAT?" I screamed.
The doorknob turned, but the door was locked. I smiled a little and continued watching the documentary. The banging started again.
"What?" I shouted. No answer. "What do you want?" I shouted again. This time, I got a response: a few light knocks.
It continued that way for at least two minutes before I grew fed up with it all. I dragged myself out of the bed, wrapped a hijab around my head and dragged my feet across the floor towards the door. I was mad at whoever was responsible for all the knocking and really wanted to now punch them.
"What do you want?" I snarled as I opened the door slightly.
"Mademoiselle! I am very sorry for bothering you." said Pierre with a wide smile on his face, "However, Sir has requested to see you."
"Well I don't want to see him." I mumbled.
"But you must! It may be important!"
"I couldn't care less." I responded and I started closing the door.
"No!" he yelled, wedging his foot in the doorway and pushing the door open. "He'll get mad if his order isn't obeyed and that isn't something we'd want, would we?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, he was playing with my patience.
"Get out." I warned.
"No." he said defiantly, grabbing my wrist and pulling me with him.
Catching me by surprise, I stumbled forward. Then my reflexes kicked in: I punched him in the stomach with my free hand, getting him to loosen his grip on me. I freed my wrist then landed a series of punches on him and returned to the bedroom, locking the door behind me.
The peace didn't last long.
A new series of knocks started. I turned off the TV and walked onto the balcony. The knocking continued and it drove me crazy to the extent that I broke down slightly. Allah knows how long the knocking continued as I stood in the same position leaning on the balcony railing the entire time. The phone in my room also rang a few times but I ignored it too.
After a while, I heard keys unlocking the door. I still didn't move.
"WHY WOULDN'T YOU OPEN THE DOOR?" David roared as he barged into the bedroom. I flinched a little but recovered quickly, even though I knew he couldn't see me. My back was facing the door to the balcony because I refused to turn around.
He must have realised that I wasn't in the bedroom because he became silent and hurried footsteps were the only things that could be heard.
SLAM!
I imagined him in my mind searching the room. It must have been the walk-in wardrobe he just checked.
SLAM!
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Kidnapped: Welcome 'home'
Ficção AdolescenteSecondary school is finally over and 15 year old Asmaa is looking forward to spending the summer having fun with friends and family and moving on in her life. What she doesn't realise is that this summer will be very eventful indeed: she would fina...
