Forced or Not?

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BismiAllahiArRahmaniArRaheem

I clutched the glass of orange juice tightly, frantic that my clumsy self would jump in any time as I strolled in the garden where the party was held

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I clutched the glass of orange juice tightly, frantic that my clumsy self would jump in any time as I strolled in the garden where the party was held. It was the naming ceremony of my cutest, just born nephew. Taimoor Shehzad, that's the name we thought of giving him, and I absolutely loved it! My sister and her husband were enraptured by their child's entrance into their lives, so was everyone else.

"So, you are an aunt now? Your nephew must be glad to have a pretty aunt like yourself." Commented my Dad's cousin brother's son, Jahangir also known as the stay-away-from-dude-for-safety-purposes. I gave him a clipped smile, trying to get away from but, we know how annoying people work. They let you go only after every dead cell of your body gets annoyed. Thoroughly.

"Yes, and my mom just called me, I guess. So, gotta go." I muttered straightforwardly, keeping the 'I guess' a low whisper, and almost dashed out but he caught my hand, making some of the juice spill on the grass. How dare the prick hold my hand?! And how dare he drop my carefully maintained orange juice?!

"Oops, sorry." He whispered smirking all the way. Not one bit of sorry I see on his irksome face. He must've deciphered the glare I gave him, but chose to ignore it nicely, gripping my hand a little tighter. I was getting mad now, so accidentally threw my drink over him. He let go of my hand and brushed his white-orangey shirt, getting his hands sticky.

"Oops. Sorry!" Not sorry, you dumbhead. I apologized giving him a smirk of my own. You don't mess with Farheen Riaz, you get that, pea-brain? I noticed him clenching his jaw for a while before his maddened gaze met mine. His gaze was not just furious, it was something more than that. Something scary.

I scooted away from him to dash towards safety but his hand caught mine again. And this time, it was a deathly grip. I was terrified, because what I saw in his eyes was nothing good. Ya Rab! Help me.

"Won't you lead me towards the restroom?" He questioned me, as if taunting me for being a disgraceful host, and all I tried to do was get my hand out of his filthy touch. The atmosphere was anything but friendly around us now. I looked around to see if there was anyone who would come to my rescue, but I knew none of them, only far-off relatives of Mom and Dad came in my far-off sight.

"Go straight, and on the second right after stepping in, you'll f-find th–" before I got to complete he barked.

"Show me."

Silently challenging to go against his words.  I, scared out of my wits, planned that I'd dump him at the entrance, make the door apparent and bolt towards Dad. Regaining my confidence, I strode towards the main-entrance with him following suit and just when we were about to reach, I was pulled into the storage room on the side. 

What is happening?

The room had only miniscule amount of light from the function outdoors, with no one around the garage and me alone with him. I was slammed into the wall harshly, with him placing one of his arms beside my head while the other gripped my jaw. He harshly tugged on my Hijab, making the pin scrape my scalp and bleed, while I tried to control my tears. I was not falling weak in front of this excuse of a man.

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