The Rebel

Amina-5

After I finally manage to lock it, I remember that silly me, I have forgotten about the jewellery box I actually come for. I reopen the safe, take out the box, lock up again, and am on my way out, running, only slowing down in the corridor. Before I would open my room, I double check that the passport is properly caught in my belt. My heart is racing, a mixture of inner tension and the fear of getting caught are tearing me apart, but I practice self-control, and enter the room with a smile on my face.

Another half hour passes with us trying things on, comparing colours and shapes, and admire for a while how the light is broken on the masterly chiselled sides of the diamond. I groan with frustration – of course, only mentally – because I begin to wonder what the point is of all of this. After all, I would only be wearing an abaya and hijab if I met the sheikh.

“It’s a very hard decision. They’re all beautiful,” I sigh, slightly overacting. “I’m going to give it a day, and tomorrow I’ll try them on again.”

I try to put some enthusiasm into my voice, also making sure I’m not overdoing it, because they would notice that.

“Yes, that will be best,” she consents to my surprise., and begins to pack the jewels back into their boxes. I pray inside that she wouldn’t take them with her, so I have to distract their attention somehow. Driven by a sudden idea, I ask Rafa to comb my hair. I know she likes to do it, and most of the time I send away the poor thing when she wants to style my hair. Exactly as I thought, her eyes light up, and she runs to get my comb at the makeup table. Nasirah gets herself comfortable among my cushions, and begins to nibble on grapes while watching us with a smile on her face. I feel like a cheater, and my heart is aching for tricking them like this, but let’s be serious… what could I do? When my tears are almost welling up in my sadness, I turn around and without a word, hug Rafa. Poor girl, at first, she completely freezes with surprise, she’s not used to any expressions of love coming from me. Although I am very cuddly, my sister and I don’t really hug each other. This hug, though, I also mean as a goodbye, even though she has no idea about it. No matter how I try to fight it, my eyes are bubbling with tears, at which Nasirah also gets up, comes up to us and embraces us both. She whispers into my ear calmingly, in a motherly way, and from her words I understand, she thinks I am getting emotional because of my approaching wedding. I leave her in that belief.

When they leave my room, Nasirah doesn’t take the jewellery box with her. I breath out with relief that my plan has worked out, but I feel no joy at all inside. Sadness is tightening my throat as I put up the gems that are worth a fortune each.

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I hardly slept at night, I was tossing and turning, struggling, unable to switch off my brain. This is the big day, the most important day of my life so far, and I have considered about a thousand times every detail of our escape, I’m all nerves. I know the whole travel plan by heart, money, jewels and my changing clothes to change into are all packed in a rucksack, but have I thought about everything? What if something has escaped my attention which could cause us to fail? In a dreamy state, I sit up on my bed and look around feeling devastated. It’s only reaching my consciousness now that if all goes by plan then this is the last night I’ve spent in this bed, in this palace. I fall back onto the pillow and with a tightened throat I stare at the ceiling for a while. Other than my London years, I’ve spent most of my time here, and was happy. Mostly, at least. Real hell started when my father said my “death sentence”. But it’s over now, because today I take my fate into my hands. We take our fate into our hands.

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This morning father goes away for a few days, and when he kisses my forehead at breakfast, I almost faint. Inside I’m sobbing, I just want to throw my arms around him, I would squeeze him and yell at him, begging not to do this to me. Not to force me to leave my home, the only family I know. I swallow my tears together with my despair, and staring into my plate, with monotonous motions I force the food into myself.

In my room, I check everything once again, and just to be safe, I separate the money and the jewels in two parts. I leave one part in my rucksack and hide the other into a flat belt that I will be wearing around my waist. I’m also putting a jack-knife in the bottom of my rucksack that I have taken from the kitchen. I will be carrying it in my belt, so I will have something to protect myself if necessary. I have no idea whether I could use it, yet the thought puts me at ease that I have a weapon on me. I put on linen pants under my abaya and prepare the same props we used when I first put on men’s clothes. A silk scarf to press my breasts down, a net for my hair, hairpins, a makeup set, a sweater, trainers. When I’m done, I begin to walk around in nervous circles in my room, then I remember I can’t leave without saying goodbye to Sultan. When I put my hand onto the doorhandle, though, the door opens by itself. Baffled, I take a step backwards, and see with surprise that Selina is standing before me. Selina, with her eyes cried out. As we look at one another for a few seconds, my stomach lands on the floor and a terrible feeling comes over me. Something’s wrong.

Chapter 8