10 - ZARA

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, bored to death. It was the summer holidays now that the university term had ended, and I had nothing to do.

My name is Zara Amelle. I'm twenty-two years old, and Arabian, living in the United Kingdom, in London. I have long, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, tanned skin, plump lips, a pointed nose, and a slim figure.

I'm studying Chemical Engineering at university. It's a really tough degree, that demands a lot of time and effort, but so far, it's been worth it. Countless hours studying in the library, or at home, and I only have one year of the course left. I'm stressed about it, to say the least.

I remember on A-Level results day, when I got an A-star and two A-grades, and I got accepted into University College London. It took me a lot of time to convince my Pops to let me study engineering. My pops was quite a backward-minded man, and believed women should just get married and take care of the home and family. But I was breaking the social norms by doing engineering. I was determined to excel in Science – I didn't care if girls didn't usually do engineering. I wanted to do it. I wanted to prove everybody I knew wrong. I wanted to prove to them that I was capable.

I was quite an introverted woman. Throughout university so far, I never really bothered to make any friends. I preferred my own company, riding solo, doing my own thing, not wanting any distractions from reaching my ultimate goal. Sure, there were some nice girls that I'd met here. But I never really bothered to get to know them better. I didn't want to waste time going out and partying, because I was so focused on my vision for the future, achieving the career of my dreams. If I did get any free time, I preferred watching TV shows like Power and Prison Break, or playing PlayStation games, or listening to music on full blast with my bass-boosting headphones. I wasn't really into the clubbing scene. It just wasn't my thing, or my cup of tea.

I came from a rich family, but I wanted to be independent, not wanting to sponge off of my father my whole life. I wanted to eventually move away and be my own person, and proudly be able to say that I didn't have any hand-outs, and I'd made it to the top on my own.

My pops was filthy rich, and had more money than he knew what to do with. He owned a huge multi-million dollar company that sold Oud fragrances. I hardly spent time with him, because he was so immersed in work. The only times I would see him were before university when he was eating breakfast, and late at night when he'd come home after a long day at his headquarters. I cooked and cleaned for him, and he told me his appreciation and told me he loved me, but the only way he would show his thanks was by giving me money that I didn't want. He'd leave me hundreds of pounds on the table each morning every day. Because I was studying such a difficult degree, I didn't really have the time to do a job on the side without my education suffering, so I allowed my father to pay for my university and living expenses, but I intended to pay him back every single penny once I started work after graduating.

My mother passed away in childbirth when she was having me, and every day, I never stopped thinking about her. Wanting to make her proud, and carry on in her legacy. She sacrificed herself to bring me into this world. I never had the chance to know her personally, but I knew that I would eternally be in her debt.

I had a sister too, called Miriam, but she'd ran away many years ago, to get married to a man that my father disapproved of. I hadn't heard from her since. My father had tried to turn the world upside down to find her, but with no luck. Eventually, he just gave up, and decided to move on. He behaved as if she never existed, even though deep down, I knew that he was hurting. It was just a burst to his ego for his daughter to defy him and go against him, so if I ever tried to mention her, he would always silence me, and become very angry. Losing Miriam took a big toll on me too. Me and her had been so close, and she'd been so quick to pick up and leave for a man, without thinking about me or how I was feeling. I never really got to find out why my father disapproved of the man she loved, or what the man was involved in, but with time, I'd learnt to leave it alone, too. I knew that if Miriam wanted to keep in touch with me, she would have. I just had to accept that she'd moved on without me. My own sister leaving me was one of the reasons why I had trust issues of my own, and found it hard to make friends without thinking in the back of my head that they had an ulterior motive, or they would end up double-crossing me. I knew it wasn't healthy for me to have all of these doubts.

It was the same with men. Finding a man and getting into a relationship was the least of my worries. Especially hearing all of the horror stories of women getting cheated on by their long-term partners. Or the fear of getting with an emotionally unavailable man, who only wanted you for sex. Who would sell you dreams and tell you how much he loved you, when in reality, he was just telling you what you wanted to hear, in order to get what he wanted. It scared me that you could never really know what was going on in somebody's head. How somebody could claim to have feelings for you, but could just be manipulating you the whole time, using you to forget their ex, or using you until somebody better came along.

I'd worry about finding a man later on in my life, because right now, falling in love was seeming like a myth in this generation, when there wasn't a loyal bone in anybody's body. I just wanted to focus on myself. That was why life thus far, I'd never even been touched by a man. I hadn't even had my first kiss yet – let alone had my virginity taken.

I yawned loudly, a sudden knocking on my bedroom door causing me to jolt upwards and snap out of my thoughts. My eyes darted to the direction of my door, where my father made his way into the room.

"Hey Zara," he waved.

"Hey Dad," I shrugged. "What's up? Did you want me to cook you some food?"

"No, love," Dad replied exhaustedly. "I'm getting tired of watching you laze around in bed all day. Why don't you go out and do something, make some friends? You don't need to be at home looking after your old man all the time."

I couldn't help but to giggle in response.

"It's cool, Dad, I don't mind helping around in the house," I shrugged.

"Have you finished your exams yet?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, the summer holidays started about a week ago. I'm free now."

"So you've finished university now?" he questioned curiously.

"No, I still have a year of my course left," I explained. "Why do you ask?"

Dad rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"I'll be a seventy-year-old by the time you finish your damn education, at this rate," he retorted sarcastically. "I don't know why you bother. It feels like you've been studying for years and years now. When will this shit finally be over and done with?"

"It's only another year, Dad, stop being so damn dramatic," I muttered in my own defense, folding my arms.

"Either way, I'm not having you spending the whole summer holiday couped away in your bedroom," he snarled. "When was the last time you went out and had some fun? I need to get you on your feet, get you active again."

"I like being at home," I retorted.

"We're going to Italy," Dad stated matter-of-factly, as if he'd already made the decision, and it wasn't up for debate.

"Italy?" I replied, widening my eyes at the revelation. "Why Italy?"

"Because I have some business to attend to there, and I want you to come with me. I don't want to leave you on your own here," Dad replied. "It'll be good for you to go abroad, clear your head a little."

"I'm more than old enough to look after myself, Dad," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "I don't know if I can be bothered with a holiday. I wanted to start up a drop-shipping business this summer, so that I could have a side-hustle sorted for myself before going into my final year of university."

"Stop working all the damn time," Dad scoffed. "Start the business while you're in Italy if you're that bothered. You're going, and that's final. I've already booked our tickets. You'll be able to spend time with some of your extended family, since you never bother making any friends here. It'll do you good having some social interaction."

I sighed heavily, running my hands through my hair, knowing that this wasn't up for discussion, and there would be no changing my father's mind. I couldn't help but to furrow my eyebrows, when he mentioned extended family. I wasn't aware that we had any extended family living in Italy. As far as I knew, all of our relatives lived in Saudi Arabia.

I guessed you learnt something new every day.

I wasn't thrilled with the thought of all the unwanted interaction, but the more I thought about it, the more I couldn't help but to get a little excited about the holiday. It would do me some good taking time off grafting for once, since all I'd done for the past few years was study myself to death. Italy was full of beautiful places that I could go and explore, like the Amalfi Coast, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Maybe it could be a lot of fun, after all.

"You know what, Dad?"

I stood up on my feet, and suddenly, a massive grin spread across my face.

"I'd love to go!" I exclaimed.

His eyes lit up as I said these words.

"Fantastic, darling," he grinned. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"When are we going?" I asked curiously.

"Tomorrow night," Dad stated matter-of-factly. "I had to book the flights as soon as possible, due to the urgency of my business situation."

"I see," I squealed. "Tomorrow night… That's really short notice. I better get packing!"

Dad laughed.

"Let me know if you need any help, love," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow when you're all packed and ready to leave."

I nodded, and he made his way out of my room. My heart hammered against my chest with the excitement and anticipation. I reached for my phone to turn on my Spotify playlist, and Grown Flex by Chip and Bugzy Malone started playing. I bopped my head to the beat, singing along with the lyrics, as I rummaged through my wardrobe, throwing out all of my outfits and shoving them into suitcases, hardly able to pack quickly enough.

***