Un-Shattering Happiness: Chapter 5

 

Argon couldn’t come up with an answer. Pzeyma smirked. What are you hiding, Argon? What is it that’s making you look so scared? he thought.

“She’s my daughter, which also means I own her,” he snarled.

“What will you do with her once she’s back?”

“I’ll make sure she is never able to leave Zephania without me!”

Oh, so that’s what it was, thought Pzeyma. Does he miss her or what? He’s being very strange today. “I’ll send my men to Oman. Why don’t you return for the day?”

“Thank you. I must take Jade back with me. Nicholas misses her.”

Yeah right. “Take her back later. She’s not home.”

Argon clicked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment.

“I’ll get going then. See you soon.” Argon got up and left the office, the bitter tea still floating in the china cup.

Pzeyma sighed, rubbing his forehead. If the Princess is really offended, then we all are in big, big trouble. He took out his Mobiado Professional 3 AF from his side pocket and dialed a number.

“Azkayel. Gather up everyone in the basement,” he said and then clicked his phone.

He picked up his black coat and walked briskly out of his office.

 

 

Maira and Hawwa sat in the living room, looking up school uniforms. Hawwa was more interested in school uniforms than the school itself. A fancy uniform, she had said. Maira was taken back when she had heard her say that. Finally, Hawwa found one that she was attracted to. It was a red, blue, and black checked skirt (the length didn’t matter) and a white shirt with a red ribbon attached to its neck.

“Bright Future,” Maira read the name from the laptop screen.

“The name sounds a little cliché, but it’s okay!” said Hawwa, excitedly.

Maira was a little shocked when she heard Hawwa say that. It was kind of surprising.

“Let’s go to the school tomorrow then,” grinned Maira.

“Tomorrow? Isn’t that too early?”

“Schools have already started. You wouldn’t want to miss the first month of school, especially when you are in your last year of high school.”

Hawwa nodded. “So, where do I start?”

“Browse the internet. Do a few past papers. You will only be tested on your 11^th-grade knowledge. What subjects did you take in 11^th grade?”

“Art, Maths, Further Maths, and English Language,” she counted on her fingertips.

“What do you want to do with these subjects? It’s a weird mix.”

“Oh, I haven’t thought about that yet! I just want to study them!”

Maira liked how reckless Hawwa was, but she was still worried about her future.

“You still need to think about what you will do next, Hawwa, because this is your last year.”

“I will.”

 

 

Nicholas, a 19-year-old teenager, who had spent his life playing chess and basketball, was finally browsing the internet and looking up Maira Bint Said. Being the President’s son didn’t mean he was interested in taking over the position later or had any interest in politics. He clicked the first result in the google search engine, which read Maira Bint Said currently taking off a break from her Princess role. It was an article published in a newspaper called Times of Oman on the 26^th of October 2014. There was no picture of the Princess, nor were there any latest news about her. Nicholas heard his father’s heavy footsteps making his way to the living room. He put the laptop away and stood up to greet his father.

“Where’s Mother?” he asked.

“He refused to send her back,” he said furiously and sat on the sofa. “Did you find anything new?”

Nicholas sat in front of his father. “Yes. Remedios has gone to Oman with Maira Bint Said…she’s a princess.”

“You mean she wasn’t kidnapped?”

“Why would she be kidnapped?” asked Nicholas, looking at his father, bizarrely.

Argon cleared his throat. “The Princess might have been offended because we delayed the meeting with her. She must have taken Remedios as a hostage.”

“But the man at the mosque said that Remedios went with her willingly.”  

Nicholas was confused now. How could a Princess be so immature? he thought. If Remedios went with her willingly, then the Princess is just looking out for her? “Do you think Remedios knew that Maira Bint Said was a Princess, and that is why she chose her and went with her?” he asked.

“No, no. Remedios only reads stories. She doesn’t know much about Zephania, nor does she know much about the outside world.”

“Well, if she were kidnapped, you would have been given a call by now, right?”

“The Arab world is known for their barbarous acts. Who knows what they might do to her?”

His father was acting odd. And this oddness wasn’t normal. He was worried about Remedios in a different way. At first, he was angry that Remedios hadn’t come home. But now, there was something different about him. Something dangerous.

“So, what are you planning to do, Father?”

“I asked Pzeyma to help out. I don’t trust that snake man, so I will also send a few of my men to Oman.”

“Do you think uncle will stir trouble? He’s nice,” said Nicholas.

“Beware of that man, Nicholas. Just because he’s your mother’s brother, doesn’t mean he’s nice,” he warned.

Nicholas nodded, mentally rolling his eyes. Well, good thing if the Princess is protecting Remedios.

 

 

The underground was dark and hidden. Pzeyma lit a candle and walked through the cold, narrow pathway. There were empty cells on both sides. Some had blood splattered on the walls and the ground; others were clean and untouched. Pzeyma made his way to a large room where six men and a woman stood in black, white, and red suits.

“As you all know, the Princess came a few days ago. And she has taken Remedios with her. I want you to find her and take her to one of our headquarters. I need to check what is Argon after,” he ordered. “Azkayel, you stay behind. The rest of you book your flights today and leave immediately.”

The men saluted in unison, bowed, and made their way out of the basement.

“Master. I can handle this mission alone,” said Azkayel when the men left. He had a strong Russian accent.

“No, Argon doesn’t know your face. Besides, it’s better to play the prey than the hunter. Let’s go back,” said Pzeyma and turned on his heels.

Azkayel silently followed behind.  

 

 

The next morning, Maira and Hawwa drove to Bright Future. Hawwa was wearing a fancy uniform and a black headscarf. That was how confident she was at passing the entry test.

“Everything in place?” asked Maira halfway to the school.

Hawwa laughed her head off. “What if I had forgotten something?”

Maira smiled. “Borrow it from school probably,” she said quietly.

Hawwa chuckled. She looked at her side window. The same sandy brown mountains, the scorching sunlight, and the AC inside the car were soothing.

“Are you nervous?” asked Maira when she saw Hawwa not talking at all.

“Not really.”

Hawwa was nervous. Very nervous. She was afraid of what people would think about her last name or if anyone would know about a country named Zephania.  She wasn’t sure how she would tell about her family if someone asked her about it. She was scared of whether she was still safe in Oman or not. She knew her father very well. He would definitely find out her whereabouts and send his men and-

“We are here!” she heard Maira's voice.

She looked away from the window and saw the school building. It wasn’t as big as she had imagined it to be. But it was a beautiful building. It was a tall rectangular glass building with lots of windows in it.

Maira parked the car, and the two got off. The black gates were huge and pristine. The gates opened automatically as the two stood in front of it. The road after the gate was crimson red. There were stairs up ahead. Hawwa wanted to quickly get inside the building because it was so hot. The sliding doors opened, and the AC air hit her face.

“Assalam-u-Alaikum,” said Maira. “I am Maira Qayyoom. I called yesterday for this girl’s admission. She’s here for the entry test.”

The woman at the desk pushed back her long straight golden hair and clicked on her PC. “97413978?”

“Yes,” replied Maira.

The woman picked up the receiver and dialed a number. She said something in Arabic.

“Please wait a moment,” she smiled and went back to her work.

Maira and Hawwa looked at each other and then walked over to the side and sat on the cold blue chairs. There was a big wooden boat on the far-right side of the hall. A large LCD TV was stuck to the wall in front of them, displaying pictures of students in different events. In one image, they were all wearing light pink shirts. Another one showed a picture of students playing basketball. Hawwa looked at the photographs enviously. The students in the pictures looked happy and excited. She wanted to make lots of friends and have a great year.

“Hawwa Argon?” It was a female’s voice.

Hawwa looked up. A woman in black heels stood in front of her. Hawwa quickly stood up.

“Yes!” she said aloud.

“No need to be nervous. Follow me,” the woman grinned, flashing a set of perfect white teeth.

Hawwa looked at Maira one last time and then followed the woman, walking behind her. Look at her being all nervous. I won’t leave you, Hawwa. Goodluck, Maira conversed in her head.

 

After an hour, Hawwa reappeared in the hall, walking in through a wooden door, her hands sweaty, her face red. Maira got up from her seat and walked to Hawwa.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah.”

“How was it?”

“It was fun!”

Maira secretly smiled. Fun, huh? Interesting.

“Please wait for some time while the teacher marks your test,” said the lady with long hair at the counter.

Hawwa nodded and took a seat.

“What was the format of the test?” asked Maira

“They were all Multiple-Choice Questions.”

“You answered them carefully, right?”

“Mhm,” she replied nodding.

After probably fifteen minutes, the lady at the counter called them and congratulated them that Hawwa was now their student. Hawwa beamed and unconsciously hugged Maira, who hugged her back and patted her head.

“Would you like to take a tour of the school and take classes today, or will you start after the weekend?” asked the lady in black heels.

Hawwa looked up at Maira. Maira nodded.

“I would… like to…st-start tod-today,” she said in a low tone.

It was 10 am—a Thursday.

“I’ll pick you u when the day ends,” said Maira, encouraging and reassuring Hawwa.

Hawwa waved goodbye to Maira as if she were going to war and never coming back. Maira merrily waved back, watching Hawwa leave the hall through the wooden door next to the counter.

 

“I am Azra Freed. It will be break time in 10 minutes, so I will quickly show you the first floor and the basement,” said the woman in black heels.

Hawwa silently nodded. Hawwa noticed two claw-like scars on the face of the woman’s left side*. She wondered how she had gotten those scars. They looked kind of cool.

“This is the cafeteria,” she pointed to a spacious room that had about 10 to 12 long rectangular red tables and chairs. It had two openings—one on its right and one on its left. “There are classes on both sides. Two Art classes and one science lab.”

Hawwa looked at the pictures on her right side. They were paintings of sceneries, fruits and there was a stand next to the art class which had a dress on it, made of empty packets of chips.

“This is a winning entry from one of our former students. The theme was recycling,” said Azra when she saw Hawwa admiring the piece of art.

“Oh…”

“As you can see, that is the basketball court outside. In summers, we have our assemblies outside, and in winters, we have them in the cafeteria. Downstairs is the basement. There is a music class, the auditorium, the prayer room, and a few rooms which are forbidden to enter. Please do not enter those rooms; this isn’t Hogwarts. You won’t find anything there,” she explained.

From Azra’s tone, Hawwa was now curious about what was inside those rooms because it felt there had been incidents, and that’s why this teacher was explicitly telling her not to enter those rooms. Well, I will find out what is in there later; she mentally put the task in her school bucket-list.

“Let’s go upstairs now before the bell rings,” said Azra, already stepping up the stairs.

Hawwa looked up. So many stairs!

“You’ll get used to them,” said Azra without looking back, her tone flat, no emotions. “Come on.”

Hawwa bobbed her head and began the journey of climbing up 78 stairs.

“This is the second floor. The classes here are for first graders to sixth graders.”

Hawwa breathed heavily, nodding.

“You look like you ran a marathon,” said Azra sternly.

Hawwa gave her a weak smile. Azra turned towards the stairs, and the click-clack of her heels started again. Ugh, how many more to go, thought Hawwa tiredly.

“You have reached your destination,” said Azra, a small smile appearing at the corner of her lips. “You look like you saw a ghost, Hawwa.”

Hawwa gaped at Azra. “You… you smiled…”

The smile immediately disappeared, and Azra turned around and opened the glass door. Hawwa giggled quietly and followed Azra, who’s short, just above the neck, straight crimson hair swished left and right. Just as Azra had said, a shrill bell rang, and a few seconds later, there was a flood of students everywhere.

“Stay close,” said Azra and grabbed Hawwa’s hand.

Hawwa felt a warm energy emitting from Azra’s hand. It was sincere and loving, unlike her cold demeanor, empty eyes, and flat tone. Azra led Hawwa outside the principal’s office, where it was less crowded. Hawwa saw students rummaging through their lockers, walking with their friends, picking up their backpacks, and joking. The hall slowly started to get less crowded and more peaceful as students began to go downstairs. Hawwa now looked at Azra, who suddenly let go of her hand and looked the other way.

Cute, thought Hawwa.

“Now that they are gone, I will show you around here. You will have difficulty in the first week, you might also get lost on your way to classes. Do not hesitate to ask for help, we won’t eat you.”

Hawwa silently chuckled. She loved the way Azra explained things. Blunt? Ah no. Straightforward!

“The right side of the hall has three computer labs, one math class, and the staff room. On the left are three math classes, a library, and an elevator.”

Azra then led her further in on the left side of the hall. There was a bright tunnel that had windows on its sideways. It was especially warm in this area as there was only the sunlight penetrating through the mini boxed windows. At the end of the tunnel, there was a one-way hall which had classes on both sides and was – thankfully – airconditioned.

“What subjects are you taking?”

“I am taking Art, Maths, Further Maths, and English Language,” she replied excitedly.

“An Unusual Mixture,” Azra replied, impressed. “You won’t be coming here much then,” she said, heading towards the tunnel. “Well, this is pretty much it. Remember where we entered the third floor from? Yes, there is one science lab there and one chemistry classroom. If you walk straight to the other side, you will find one physics class.”

“Okay!” this time, Hawwa replied more confidently.

Azra walked her to her Math class. “The kids here are friendly, just not that friendly. You might feel lonely sometimes, but you might also find friends of your interest.” With that, she left Hawwa standing next to the Math classroom.

Why am I explaining these things to her? thought Azra, irritated by her actions.

“THANK YOU, MISS AZRA,” she heard Hawwa.

She smiled and continued walking on her way.

 

Hawwa leaned against the wall, waiting for the bell to ring. Break time might have been coming to an end because she saw students getting ready to go to their classes. Should I go inside the class? Or wait? She became nervous once again as seconds snailed by.

“Hi!” the voice cleared up her mind.

A short girl with a curly ponytail stood in front of her.

“Are you here for the Math class? OMG! Are you new?!!”

“He-hello…” replied Hawwa, trying her best to smile properly.

“Hmm…something’s strange about you!”

Terror flashed through Hawwa’s eyes. Does she knows me?

“Your aura is kinda darkish.”

“Au-aura?”

The girl came closer to her, looking directly in her eyes, slowly checking out the rest of her facial features. Hawwa pressed her back to the wall, wishing the wall would just move.

“Are you human?” the girl whispered.

 

 

 Author's Note: Once again, thank you so much for reading this chapter. 

Pzeyma is pronounced as: Puhz-zey-ma

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please give me feedback on this. Thank you!