Deviant Fixation

by Valencia Carmelita

  He's wearing a gold chain necklace, his fingers are bejewelled with gold and silver rings. As he arrives closer, he swiftly takes off his expensive flashy black shades. The gesture reveals kohl lined dark eyes which are promptly fixed on me.

  His smile has vanished as he almost pauses midstep as our gazes connect. The other guys rush past him and up onto the stage. They are embracing Imran and throwing him playful punches.

  Mister Mirza sighs and steps down from the stage. I don't know why he's left me alone with these guys. I wished he hadn't done that.

  "Look at you bro ! "

  "Damn! he's all hitched at this age hahaha!"

  "Congrats bro! "

  " Damn, Narmi ! Yo wife is a 10/10!"

  "You done good bro !"

  I blush hearing their compliments and look away to find the gold chain guy standing right in front of my view.

  He's staring at me strangely, as if he's trying to solve a puzzle. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and avert my gaze onto my lap.

  "Shut up all of you !" He suddenly barks in annoyance. The other guys quiet down quickly. He proceeds. "Narmi, man you thought you could fool me ?"

  Imran rolls his eyes, he looks at him with apparent boredom before he speaks. "Well..since you guys are here, help yourselves to the buffet."

  All the other guys besides the one with the gold chain, scatter towards the buffet. People are eyeing them in apparent distaste.

  Gaze still fixed upon me, gold chain guy orders Imran "Introduce me."

  "This is Yasir." Imran sighs pointing towards the guy before pointing towards me. "And this is Sam Kashani."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you Sam." Yasir breathes heavily, extending out his hand to me.

  "Errr.. its Sanam actually" I correct him as I shoot Imran an irritable look.

  I don't shake Yasir's hand.

  "Shake his hand!" Imran glares at me. Yasir chuckles and refuses to withdraw his hand.

  I don't want to shake his hand, he's not my mehram. I would be sinning if I shook his hand.

  "I can't, it's haram." I reply obviously.

  "The fuck did you say?" Imran yells causing multiple people to look in our direction. I stare back at him in shock and disbelief.

  He lowers his tone audible enough for only Yasir and me "When I fucking order you to do something, you fūcking do it."

  " Go on sweety, shake it." Yasir coaxes, he's grinning like he's won the lottery.

  I feel sick being subjected to such an embarrassing situation. Not wanting to draw anymore attention, I hesitantly place my hand in his beefy one. He immediately clasps his other hand over it.

  I don't bother masking my grimace, his hands feel soft and clammy.

  "Now that wasn't so hard was it ?" Yasir whispers, there is no mistake of the lust evident in his eyes as his thumb presses down and rubs circles over my skin.

  I try freeing my hand, but he refuses to release it. Exasperatedly I look over at Imran who's eyeing us with mild curiosity.

  Is he finding this entertaining ? What the hell is wrong with him ?

  What a shameless husband is he.

  "Yasir, I need a word with you man. I'll explain what's going on." Imran arises and steps down from the stage. "Come on man, outside with me for a smoke."

  "Oh this better be good." Yasir replies, he squeezes my hand and then let's go with a wink.

  I feel complete repugnance with this show of behaviour and make no effort to hide my disgusted expression.

  With anger, I watch them slip out through one of the doors leading to a balcony.

  I'm very much a fuming mess right now. Scrubbing my hands against my dress, I imagine punching Imran in the face for subjecting me to such humiliation.

  I'm his wife, how could he allow another man to touch my hands like that ?

  "Sanam, you must be starving, sitting there on that stage for so long." Mister Mirza's voice obstructs my chain of thoughts. I see Leila standing behind him, offering me a sympathetic smile.

  "Yes" I lie, still in a state of shock over what just occurred. This marriage was proving to be a huge mistake already.

  I needed to get off this stage away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths. Mocking laughter from a couple of girls flows over to my ears. They had obviously witnessed Imran's ill treatment of me.

  "I apologize for Imran's foolishness." Mister Mirza admits regrettably to me as I trudge past him. I'm in shock to provide him a response so I remain silent.

  "What's going on ?" Leila asks with concern.

  "Nothing." I voice tremulously, gulping back my tears of humiliation.

  The table I sit at is laden with halal East Asian food. It's my favorite cuisine. Mister Mirza was kind enough to have asked me before hand to create a menu selection of the food I'd prefer being served.

  I was looking forward to eating up until the handshake incident. My appetite was gone and my anger was now replaced by glumness as I relapsed into my thoughts.

  "Come on! Atleast break this big fortune cookie the waiter must have brought in for you !" Leila's voice disconnects me from my brooding daydream.

  I peer down and spot a fortune cookie the size of a lemon sitting on my plate. I hadn't even realized when the waiter had brought this in since I was so lost in thought.

  "How come I didn't get one ?" Bilal whines.

  "Sanam is the bride, I think only the bride and groom get one." Leila assumes.

  "Believing in fortune cookies is forbidden." I state disinterestedly.

  Leila chuckles. "No one is telling you to believe in it, just break the cookie and read it for fun!"

  Heaving a solemn sigh, I pick up the cookie in my hands for closer inspection. There is a hole the size of a small blueberry poked into one of its edges.

  That's strange...

  Peeking through the hole and I see an outline of a piece of paper rolled up inside.

  This was a strange fortune cookie.

  Breaking the cookie in the middle and I brush aside the crumbs from the piece of paper. Unrolling the paper, I proceed to read what it states.

  Windham park

  Should have minded your own business

  Watch your back

  Messed with a dangerous crowd

  Eyes glued to the note in complete alarm, my breathing ceases for a moment. I reread the type written words. It was uncertain if this was a joke or a threat.

  "What does it say ?" Leila asks.

  Denying her an answer, I reread the note till she snatches it out of my hands and reads it for herself. The smile on her face vanishes and we lock gazes.

  My voice trembling, I question "Who served this?"

  "We don't know, must be the waiter right ? Didn't you see who ? I took Bilal to the restrooms and when we got back we noticed your food was replaced by this." Leila elaborates.

  I'm really bothered right now. "Is this some sort of a trick you're playing on me Leila ? Because it's really a low thing to do !"

  "Wallahi, I played no tricks !" She swears as she brings up her hands in earnest surrender.

  I bolt up from my seat, my form trembling. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

  "Where are you going ?"

  "Stay with Bilal, I'll be back." Sternly, I rephrase.

  I ask for the directions of the kitchen from a waiter. He explains to me that the kitchen hasn't been in use for over two weeks due to renovation reasons and all of the hot food was delivered by trucks.

  As I inform him about the fortune cookie, he looks through the menu clip board but yet finds none on the list. He hands over the menu clip board to me for confirmation. Indeed, there were no fortune cookies listed on the menu for anyone.

  With my mind still at unease, I head towards the kitchen anyway. Not long after I manage to find the entrance. It leads to a dark secluded hallway.

  Growing trepidation claws at my mind as I march through the grey corridor while the smell of cement and plaster grow heavier in the air. The hallway stretches onwards for what seems like foreve
r or perhaps it was a trick of my mind.

  I finally reach double swinging doors to the kitchen. With the note crumpled up in my hand, I inhale deeply and push open the doors.

  The kitchen is vacant, and dark. Faint light from street lamps outside, filters through the window. It illuminates the kitchen in a foreboding way.

  Goosebumps surface my skin. I sense another presence, as if someone is in here besides me.

  "Who's there?" I try to conceal the shakiness in my voice. "Whoever you are, don't play games."

  Within a few seconds I think I hear a light menacing chuckle. I'm uncertain if it belongs to a male or a female.

  Instantaneously, my mind hastens with raw fear. I end up forcefully retreating.

  Dashing out of there.

  FAST.

  Nearing the middle of the hallway, I sprint past a someone. A figure is submerged in the shadows, reclining against the wall.

  Its shoots out a hand and grabs ahold of my arm, yanking me back. The sudden gesture eliciting a horrid scream from me.

  I come face to face with none other than Yasir.

  "Damn girl, you'd sound really good in bed." He drawls.

  I try snatching my arm out of his hand. "L-Let go of me!"

  "Oh, oh why in such a hurry? Who were you running from ?" He cocks his head, there is a cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips. He looks behind me in the direction I was running from.

  I glance back at the kitchen doors and then quickly at him, unable to mask my horror.

  "You look as if you've seen your worst nightmare come alive." He continues sternly.

  "Let go of me !" I attempt at wrenching my arm out of his grasp. Yet he frees me instantly. I start rushing away when he speaks up again.

  "There is something you should know about Imran."

  I pause, my mind unnerved by happenings of the night.

  What does he mean ?

  I glance sideways at him. He takes a smoke from his cigarette. Leaning his head back against the wall, studying me. "Imran is using you for something bad, bad, bad. "

  What is he on about ?

  I openly scowl. "I don't have time for games Mister Yasir."

  "No, I wouldn't dare play games with a girl as sweet, naive and innocent as you. How unfortunate that I didn't cross paths with you before that bastard Imran..." He laments and I notice his voice is a bit slurred. "It's not too late...yet."

  Was he intoxicated ?

  "What are you on about ?" I question exasperatedly.

  " Sanam you're so naive and so innocent. Imran is blind, he wants to fūck thots who spread their legs for anyone over few dollars. He's in love with such a thot infact. He doesn't want you." He was starting to step closer to me. "But he's married you for something bad, babe.."

  I begin retreating from him in disgust at the nonsense he was spewing out of his mouth.

  Okay this guy is nuts.

  "Leave me alone !" I warn uneasily and sprint out of that hall way.

  I can hear him repeating behind me loudly "It's not too late yet.."

  ◆◆◆

  I turn on the air conditioner, it's gotten too hot staying wrapped up in these heavy wedding clothes. I sit back down on Imran's bed which is strewn with roses.

  It's I think a super awkward custom. Ofcourse the groom doesn't decorate his bed with rose petals, his family does. Which is why I think it's super awkward. Since they embellish it for the supposed romance.

  His room is twice as big as my room back in New Jersey. He's got posters of some Hollywood movies framed on his walls. I sigh and glance at the clock on the wall-12:47am.

  I've been sitting here waiting for him for the past two hours. I seriously need to sleep.

  However, Leila advised me to wait on him. She had said it was rude if I just fell asleep. She also assured me that it was okay to be shy on the wedding night, that I shouldn't stress over it.

  Well she's wrong, I feel nothing towards Imran Mirza now. Absolutely nothing.

  What he did tonight was awful and I am fully certain he has no feelings towards me either.

  Baba and Naheed have ruined my life.

  I switch on the tv for some distraction from the gloomy thoughts plaguing my mind. But the distraction only lasts for half hour more until my eyes hurt from watching the screen.

  I click it off and lay down straight, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts back to the ominous fortune cookie note, the evil chuckle from the banquet hall kitchen, Imran's ill treatment of me and Yasir's drunken words.

  I wonder if it was my mind imagining the chuckle in that dark kitchen. I was very afraid of the dark.

  What's going on ? Why do I feel like my life is only going to fall into deeper hardships ?

  I hadn't realised I had fallen asleep until I am shoved awake. "Get up, this is not your room."

  I stare up at Imran groggily.

  He glares. "Get the fuck out of my room."

  I quickly push myself out of the bed as I nearly trip over my feet. "Then where do I sleep?"

  "Go look for the guest room, but you're definitely not sleeping in my room." He unleashes his contempt.

  I glance at the clock-5:58am.

  I need to pray the morning prayer.

  I grab ahold of my suitcase and trudge out of his room and into the drawing room. I can't be bothered searching for the guest bedroom right now.

  After a quick five minute shower, I rummage through my suitcase and find my mother's prayer rug she used to pray upon. I use this rug sometimes so I don't lose her lovely scent from it.

  I hug the prayer rug to me, and inhale her scent. Instantaneously, tears fill my eyes.

  I miss you mom, so so much.

  After I complete my prayers, I roam around the home. The extreme modernity and sophistication makes it feel cold and lacking any warmth. Baba's home didn't seem to possess such a cold touch.

  I start feeling restless soon and I pull away the heavy curtains at the drawing room windows to see outside. It's a lovely morning, no cloud in sight.

  I hear the distinct sound of someone using the mowing machine on their lawn. I decide I'd like to go for an early morning walk to ease my restlessness.

  I don a simple black hijab, a navy blue cardigan over a white blouse and a blue skirt. Grabbing one of the keys hanging from the key stand, I lock the door behind me and breath in the fresh morning air.