As narrated by Amz:
Unlocking the gate and door, I step inside the house and look around for any boxes.
There are none.
Walking quickly but cautiously, I head for the stairs, not even daring to peek into the kitchen.
“Just get your phone as fast as you can and leave. Simple enough,” I say to myself, trying to calm down.
But at the back of mind, I’m aware that Fuaad was in our apartment yesterday. That thought in mind, nothing can calm me down.
My fingers shake with nervousness as I open my room door.
Why had I closed it?
Had I closed it?
I step inside.
My heart drops to my toes then lurches up to my throat.
He’s here, oh god, he’s here.
It’s as if my legs have been glued to the ground, and someone has wrapped their hands around my throat.
My mind yells at me to move, to run, to get away, but my body refuses to cooperate.
I watch as he stands up from where he lay sprawled on my bed.
His lips lift into a smirk and then he speaks but I don’t hear what he says.
My brain has shut down, the fear inside me overwhelming.
It’s like having a nightmare, but worse.
He advances, and then he’s touching me, lifting me up then placing me on the bed to sit next to him.
The movement frees my body from its trance, my flight-fight mode rushing in at full force.
I jump up but he grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.
“I’m not going to hurt you, love,” he says. “I’m not even going to touch you. You just have to listen to me.”
“No!” I yell, tugging my wrist and pushing him away with my other hand. “NO!! SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE!!”
He clamps a hand over my mouth, pulling me back towards him then pushing me down onto the bed.
“Don’t make me angry,” he warns.
A newfound panic grips me as my mind registers our positions.
Fuaad seems to realize too, and he smirks.
My hearts drums against my ribcage.
He won’t. Surely he won’t.
He leans forward, dropping his head so that his face is right above mine.
Waves of panic hit me causing me to feel lightheaded.
“What?” I ask, my voice trembling, no longer strong and angry. “What do you want to tell me?”
“Are you listening?” he asks.
“Yes. Yes, I’m listening,” I nod hastily.
“You already know what I’m going to tell you. But I’m just reminding you, in case you’ve forgotten,” he says.
He pauses for a long moment.
“You have to agree to marry me. You belong to me. Mine, you’re mine, Amaani. Do you understand? You have no choice in the matter.”
“If you cooperate, we can paint the town red. If you don’t, I will still paint the town red. On my own. With your blood. After I’ve had my fun.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
Then I hear her.
“Amz. Should we pack some clothes?”
Fuaad immediately claps his hand down on my mouth.
“Why did you have to bring that brainless b*tch with you?!” he hisses.
I hear Dee calling me again.
Here! I’m here! In my room, Dee! Hurry up! I call to her inside my head.
I struggle to get Fuaad’s hand off my mouth, but to no avail.
He watches me, then smirks; I don’t even want to imagine what is going through his mind.
I hear Dee again. She’s closer now, her voice much louder.
I can hear that she’s worried, nervous.
Then, she steps into the room.
A couple seconds later, the silence is broken by her scream.
Fuaad’s gaze flies up, his eyes darkening angrily.
“Shut up!!” he hisses.
Dee screams again, lunging at him.
They collapse in a heap onto the bed, and I scurry away from Fuaad.
Dee is screaming again and I wonder why Zee hasn’t come yet.
Then, I watch in horror as Fuaad drops his mouth to hers.
Unable to believe what I’m seeing, I watch in frozen shock as Dee struggles against him.
He lifts his head and immediately Dee screams again.
The absolute panic, anguish and desperation in her voice pulls me out of my paralysis.
But I move a mere step before horror grips me again.
It all happens in slow motion.
Fuaad lifts his hand..
Dee’s eyes widen, then shut close..
Zee bursts into the room..
The sound of Fuaad’s hand connecting with Dee’s face resonates, followed by my scream.
And then Zee is on top of him.
As narrated by Zee:
I enter the kitchen and immediately see a box sitting on the table.
After filling water into the kettle, I switch it on, waiting for Dee to go upstairs before dealing with the box.
I hear her climbing the stairs, calling out to Amz.
Knowing better than to open it, I carefully pick up the box, trying not to think about what might be inside.
I walk out to the front, push open the gate and head outside, making my way to the big black bin.
Opening the bin, a sigh of relief escapes my lips as I see that it is full. I won’t have to drop the box and risk it opening.
I place it cautiously atop the rest of the dirt, then drop the lid down.
After hastily dusting off my hands, I fetch my phone from the car before making my way back to the house.
Whilst checking my WhatsApp, seeing an update from Meez, I pull the gate behind me.
As I’m walking to the kitchen, the silence in the house is broken.
My heart stops.
I race upstairs, taking the stairs three at a time, but still not getting to the room fast enough.
I see Fuaad’s hand hit down on Dee’s face, and I hear Amz’s scream.
Something overtakes me.
Something that has never happened to me before, happens.
Something that I’ve never felt before rushes through my veins.
The human body is an amazing thing that works in a mind blowing way.
When you get angry, blood rushes to your brain, clouding your ability to think rationally.
Stress hormones called adrenaline and cortisol give you a burst of energy and strength.
Blood pressure, pain threshold, and your temperature rises.
When you get angry, count to 10 before reacting.
I don’t even count to 1.
Anger consumes me entirely, blinding my eyes and disabling me to think straight.
I become a fierce beast of wild rage.
A destroying machine.
A merciless torturer.
“Ziyaad! You’re going to kill him! Ziyaad! Please!”
I hear Amz begging, pleading, her voice an epitome of fear.
I feel her pulling at me, trying to stop me with all her strength.
But all I see is Fuaad’s hand hitting Dee’s face.
“Ziyaad! Please! You’re not thinking! Listen to me! Zee!” pleads Amz.
“Shut up!” I yell at her.
“You’re going to kill him! Please, Ziyaad! Stop!”
I turn to face her, to yell at her to get away and leave me alone to give him what he deserves.
But as my head moves, my gaze falls on Dee.
Her body is still as a statue, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.
Her eyes are as wide as saucers, a mix of emotions vividly apparent.
I see fear and I see hate.
I see fear and I see sadness.
I see fear and I see disappointment.
I see fear and I see shock.
I see fear and I see horror.
I see fear and I see anguish.
I see fear and I see something which I can’t quite place.
My hands go limp at my sides.
I realize that I’m thinking again.
I’m thinking of what might be going through her mind.
I stand up, move to go and hold her, to stroke her hair and remind her to breathe.
She jumps to her feet, a yelp escaping her swollen lips.
And then it hits me.
I see fear and I see memories.
She sees her father in me.
I’ve not just destroyed Fuaad’s face.
I’ve destroyed everything.