She woke up to the shot of pain in her arm. Moaning in pain, she scrunched the sheet below her in her palm. And then, her mouth felt dry. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling above. Her arm ached louder and louder. She rubbed her palm against her forehead, trying to figure out the reason for pain. Maybe she slept in the wrong position.
Sighing, she got up and flipped the furry quilt away. The water bottle was not on her side table as it should be. She looked over to her desk, but there was no leftover work that would have satisfied her with the thought that maybe she slept accidently working late night. Jerking away the complex thoughts, she slipped her feet in her slippers and walked out of the room and towards the kitchen.
And the guy in white rolled up sleeve and pants was lying on the couch was sleeping awkwardly. Or maybe his sleeping there was more awkward. She looked at the clock. It was 7 in the morning. And then she gazed at her own dress. She was wearing a white skirt.
Shit.
She recalled the last night's birthday party and the whole religion conversation with Zoe and then she left for her house. Then what happened after that? Did she forget? Did she sleep walked to her house? No, not possible. She jerked the thoughts away but it was hard. What was Taimur doing in his house? How long has he been there? Did she brought him last night? Where were the keys? What happened last night?
"Uh, what's wrong with my brain? I need to get ready for school. Will wake up this jerk, now." She muttered to herself and walked to the open kitchen in the lounge and took out the mild water bottle from the fridge. Then she poured the mild liquid into a glass keeping the bottle high. The thin line of transparent liquid particles dripped down in the glass and she leered looking at the scenario.
Gulping down the fresh liquid down her throat, she realized she hadn't talked to Kay the other day after their 5-6 text message convo. Rubbing her two fingers against her temple, she ignored the problem and pulled out the coldest water bottle from the fridge. Walking across the lounge to the dead corpse, her facial expression turned into one of a mischievous kid about to commit a sarcastic joke with someone dear sleep.
Making sure his expensive phone doesn't get harmed, she placed it on the other couch and then uncapped the bottle. Just about turning it over to his face, a hand caught hers and then cold bottle flipped and the water inside tossed to her face.
Dreading the sudden attack, and the freaking cold water on her face, chest and shoulders, she freaked out and shrieked like hell. "Oh my God, are you out of your mind? I was already infected by flu. Omg, this is going to give me a hard time with fever. You-"She was going to swear when Taimur caught her arm and pulled her over the couch in a way that she was against the head rest and he was a few inches away from her.
Minha, who was panicking inside-out, started flushing. Embarrassed. She was embarrassed. Her heart pounding so hard, she thought she might have to cover it so he doesn't hear it.
"What were you doing?" he asked in a threatening voice. For a longer moment she kept looking him in the eye trying to control her naïve heart and conscious brain telling her to make a move. Then she pushed him away by both of her hands and stood up from the couch. "What are you doing at my house, you freaking stalker!" she yelled defending her flushed face.
"I was having good dreams here, so I thought I should hang over here for the night. Problems?" blinking his eyes and lacing a smile on his face, he asked. Minha swore him under her breath and then regretted it as soon as she did.
"I am serious. Get out!" she pointed towards the door and told him in a silent tone. Pretty dreading, right? Taimur who was smiling until now, stood up and looked at her with a solemn and spot face. "Minha. You need to take a leave from the school. They are finding the witnesses for the school your brother used to go to." Suddenly, the conversation went deep. She, who was standing with all the anger and stubbornness, switched to her professional face.
"What are you talking about?" she was starting to worry.
"Look, there is something we have to do. If we want to take revenge from those cruel rulers of the money we have to take away the money from them because that's what holding them in together and powerful. I have a plan." And he started vomiting out the plan going on his mind since last night. He was very excited to tell it to his new partner in crime and she was more eager to do it.
Dressed in light yellow Kurti scrapped with the stains of vomit and blue jeans torn from above the knees, she walked in the corridors of Aims High school with her white leather bag on her shoulder. The sun light told her that it was about to be 12 and she was to blast the biggest bomb which could take her with it. The pale corridors decorated with student art work and beautiful thin leave plants on the bottom of them said hi to the star of the school and she vowed it to them.
With a satisfied and calm face, she walked into the hallways and to the office of the school's head and Germany's biggest murderer selling out black people to the world.
Knocking on the door, she cocked her head in and saw the busy criminal reading some papers; his face expressions changing as he read further and further. Over and over to the text. She wasn't sure what it was but it had a school stamp on it, so she assumed it was a school thing.
Pursing her lips together, she tried to look sad and tired. "May I come in, sir?" she asked with a pale voice. He nodded, "Yes, come in."
When she was quite for a moment, Sir Johnson Peters looked up and examined her diseased picture. "What happened?" he asked, trying to look concern.
"Sir, I am not feeling good from several days. The doctors told me to rest for a week, but I couldn't miss the lectures. My best friend is out from the town due to someone's death in her family and I didn't had a –"and she coughed to look more weak.
"Are you okay? Please, sit down." He said, disgusting the scent of the vomit. She took the support of the chair but kept standing. "Uh, I don't think so." She coughed again. And then she searched into her bag while the head said, "You should stay home and rest." She brought out the medical certificate from the hospital saying that she recently had a stroke attack. He read the paper and looked like he was grasping the information. Then he clasped his hands on the table.
"But what about my studies?" she asked, looking about to break into tears.
"You should write a leave note and we will make sure when you come back healthy, your fellows and teachers help you cope up. If it's easy, then we can set up a camera in the class and you can attend from your home." She smiled. "Thank you so much, sir. I am going to try to recover soon." She alleged.
But then, walking out of the room, she suddenly stopped.
"May I ask you a question, sir?" she turned around now facing Johnson Peters.
"What is it?"
"I was reading this article yesterday online and it said that your company has invested a lot of money and has been reported depositing $100,000 million for all the schools you have built in our Bavaria. Is that true? Because Social media is full with a lot of positive energy for the school principle who is said to be so vigorously kind and generous. Is it true?" her hands crossed at her back, she asked with an innocent face and enjoyed the Head's face going white and then switching colors of shock.
He slammed his hands on the desk and the pencil holder near the edge fell down. She backed up in expected surprise and holded her joy inside. Peters face went red and his ears started smoking. The horns on his head emerged out and his teeth grew longer. His fingers extended to a pointy edge and the fire blazed out of his mouth.
She chuckled and lurched away her imagination. In reality, Sir Johnson Peters was much cooler.
"What are you saying? What article?" he asked as if he didn't know what's happening, but what did he even knew?
"Can I use your computer?" she asked and then coughing again so she may not forget she was ill. As expected, he gave her the way.
Playing her long and beautiful finger son the computer she addressed the fake website made by Taimur under an unknown name and displayed it on the screen. Then she backed away and the head of the Aims High school and murder of Ally the dog and Maaz, brother of Minha, immersed himself into the computer while she pressed her lips to press her smile and moved out fo the room leaving the poor guy look at his fall.
Proud of her victory, she walked out of the school premises signing her leave and promising the fall of unjust people who killed the innocent people to sell their fame which was about to blow out.
Changing into causal gray shirt and blue lose pants, she made her way to the coffee shop. The phone's LED screen emitting light on her face revealing the text of Taimur; a thumbs up emoji. She smiled. And with the smile, morning's incident warmed up again in her mind. She bit her lower lip and tried not to think of the pull.
Putting the phone back in her pocket, she looked around and saw an old man in red polka dot shirts and khaki pants, standing with support of the counter sipping on a hot chocolate mug in his hands. He was examining the girl in blonde French tail who looked toج happy to keep her phone back in her pocket.
Harris was examining her with her every edge and shape. He looked concerned and sweet warmed up. She pursed her lips and tried to smile. She knew what this could be about.
Pointing out two fingers to the waiter, she lead the old man to the last table. The usual place they met. She was nervous, but not examination-hall nervous or risk-taking nervous. She was guilty + nervous. She knew her painting was the reason for Harris' promotion to a senior auction stage, like managing the auction and she knew this was a source of money for her to go back to Pakistan. Overviewing, it wasn't her fault, but then she felt guilty too.
"Hi, Mr. Harris." She said. The waiter brought their coffee. The hot brown liquid decorated with a lot of soggy pale cream colored foam on its face. The hot haze steamed above the surface of the mugs and fogged the vision. But she smiled.
"How are you doing, miss?" he asked sipping on his coffee.
She thought for a second to think of a perfect answer. But her life was too messed up, she couldn't think of one perfect thing.
"To be honest, not fine." She stared at her coffee who was adjusting to the environment and she was wondering when her time would come. She pursed her lips. The wind blew and the hair strand behind her ear fell on her face. She scarped it back behind her ear and blinked her eyes several time to remove the dust.
"I was wondering if there is a way I could talk to your Auction manager, because that painting really had my heart and I can't win the chance, plus, your life is connected with it. If you let me, you'll be in advantage." A smirk appeared on the old man's face when Minha tripled her normal speed and conveyed the impossible request ever.
"Why would I let you do that? If you won't be able to convince him, I would be kicked out of the department." He said, putting his coffee mug down on the surface of the smooth wooden table and cupping his hands together against it.
She looked at him in the eye, and came forward, "and if I convince the, you will get double the prize of what you were offered, Mister Harris." She said, as if she was smoking the soul inside and out of him. He gasped.
"Interesting. But we still have a losing end to it, Miss."
"I am going to convince them. There is no losing end for me. I can play them. Trust me." She backed her shoulders on the shoulders of the chair and brought her coffee mug near her lips and sipped softly leaving the traces of dry pink lipstick behind. The steam was gone and the vision was very clear.
"I am sure you can." He said, pushing the mug away. Seemed like both of them were playing with their coffee mugs. 5 pm. Exact 5 pm. Meet me here. One minute up, you lose your chance." And he stood up and walked out of the coffee while she smirked at his exit.
Her mind already was working on a lot of things.
Just about half an hour after Minha left, Sir Johnson Peters were wandering in his office, his forehead wrinkled with anger, and his ears smoking red. The horns on his head growing longer and sharper. His teeth growing bloody and his voice growling to the moon of the betrayal.
He picked up his laptop and read the headings again.
"The sweet and generous, Sir Johnson Peters, the head of THE AIMS HIGH SCHOOL and the builder of other schools in Bavaria, Germany has decided to transfer a lot of money to schools to fulfill the needs of education department."
"Ditch the sweet and generous head. I am going to kill you Ibrahim!" he absorbed the streams of anger in his fists and threw them against the heavy air with 1863 amu weighing atoms.
He picked up his phone and dialed the number of his partner. "Screw you, Peter! I dint know you would be such a selfish person to betray the only loyal friend and business partner you ever had. You took a large amount of money from America and bribed them?!?! For the sake Lord of Justice, can you at least explain what's going on? And oh, what are YOU going to tell me about it? Your black daughter needs more beauty than your business and friend. Right? The black daughter you are ashamed of! What a selfish dad. You should die with the guilt, already!" Ibrahim continued saying and he was not even listening.
"SHUT UP, You fool! What do you talk about my daughter when you abandoned your own kids and killed their real mother to marry your ex? And then oh, killed their dog too! I still have the documents to that. Our phone calls and everything. If you knew!" and he shut the call.
His vision was red. The color of blood. And Minha would have enjoyed it, if she was there.
His phone buzzed and he saw an email. An email from Ibrahim, resigning from the business partnership.
"Oh no." he exclaimed holding his head. "Oh Jesus, No." and then he read the last paragraph of the email.
"…Peter I was loyal to you ever. But by bribing the American offer and taking the money from them to treat your daughter, and investing our business's money on schools you never cared about rejecting my request, you have let me down."
"Let you down? If I drown, you are going to drown down with me too."
And then he received another email, "The money in your account was taken back. You are suspended." The head office of all the business in Germany.
Peter's all emotions disappeared and all left was blurry life. He could think of anything. He was suspended? How could he be suspended? How did someone do this? He knew there was somewhere behind it. He had ordered his investigators to find the person behind this, arranging a meeting with the head in his house that evening, but he couldn't think of anything straight.
Everything he had earned, everything he had sacrificed, his daughter. His only belonging he had earned legally, had been sacrificed in the journey and now, the world was slapping him for even making those sacrifices for the better good? He knew it was illegal, but he knew he was doing it for his daughter's treatment. Yes, he was ashamed of his black kid but that was just because of his ego. He had lost in the hands of fate, but he couldn't lose this without trying to make it work, if illegally needed.
He stood up, heaving a sigh. "I am going to have to make a move."