Yasmin!’ A happy Nadia smiled as she opened the door for her. “You're back!” They hugged like they hadn't seen each other in decades. "What took you so long? I called you here weeks ago.” Her fathers husky voice could be heard from behind the door as he drew nearer popping up behind Nadia. His tone was harsh as usual, no hello Yasmin, nothing… just a straight up bold question. He seemed to have gotten more wrinkles on his face despite the fact that he always had a scowling look on. She had to explain to him that she was not permitted to leave her job in the middle of the month if she did, she wouldn't get paid. The mistress had taken extra precaution in informing her this in a displeasured manner. During her days at the mansion Yasmin had learned that Mrs Isminah Al masi was not only the mistress of craftiness and deceit, the husband had taken extra care in hiding the woman' s brutal ways. She was responsible for cleaning up her son Amir' mistakes. She
of tall green mountains that appeared to be coated in white at the top, white as ice, overlapping in the distance. Her pale frail, withered hands worked with skill, hands that disclosed years of poverty, hands toughened from hard work in the fields all day in the scorching heat during farming seasons from the tender age of six to executing the heftiest hardest house chores simultaneously daily exploited by her parents handed to her cruel husband who exploited her as well and as she had mastered this art she exploited herself, her skill to an essential volume to bring out the uniqueness of her painting with realistic features and traces, chucking in a few green shades here and there, then smoothing them out with a grey shade using charcoal ashes and white dried root powder blistering her fingers on the rough surface of the rock in the process. She did not seem to care because the zeal within her drove her that one cou
Harran was named after her aunt, because of her beautiful features and that resembled her. The name Harran is of Sumerian origin’ meaning ' home of the Queens and Kings’. Harran was an ancient city situated in the middle ea. Yasmin’s grandmother liked the ring to it. To her it sounded ancient and perfect for her daughter(Yasmin's aunt) because she cherished her for the beauty she possessed and treated her like a queen while her mother was a bit in the shadows and ignored because she was plain, no attractive features!, NO wonder the childless wealthy aunt also took a liking to Harran when they were children and begged her mother to let her take her. Yasmin's parents were more than relieved in letting their barren relatives take away Harran with them to raise as their own. At least she'd have a good home and would get a good education. Now she had blossomed in
Yasmin's father stomped in the house in anger shouting at the top of his lungs, yelling for her. He was in a bad temper as was typical, but today, he seemed more maddened and agitated. When Yasmin exited the bedroom and paced into the corridor towards the living room, her eyes started to water as she witnessed a sight that would haunt her, every minute, every day of her life, a sight so horrific, fearful, her small frame was trembling, paralyzed with distressing anxiety , a sight that would be embedded in her mind for the rest of her life. Her father stood tall dressed in white traditional wear and a turban holding Nadia by her light blue traditional tunic tucking at it vigorously as if to torture her, the sorrowful looking Mohammed was behind him gazing at particularly nothing on the floor. . She knew all hell was about to break loose, but for the happiness of her sister she was about to give up everything, even sacrifice her own life for her b
It was only a few months after she had arrived home that Yasmin received devastating news that shook her to the core of her being. News that she never expected to hear so soon in her young life. The news shook her so much that she curled up on the floor in pain, severe chest pains; a panic attack hitting her at maximum. Harran was desperately shaking her semiconscious frame in a panic to stir her back to full consciousness. Her sister’s voice echoed in her ears like little bells rung in a large hall as she screamed in vain. “ Yasi, whats wrong Yasi answer me please sister!” The shocked Nadia paced back in dismay kicking the cell phone that lay on their bedroom floor with the back of her left foot. Then a few minutes later Nadia picked up the cell phone only to find out that the call had not been disconnected. On the other end a distraught Ali was still engulfed in sobs that could be stridently heard. “Whats wrong with Yasmin” Ali s voice unveile
The wedding proceedings had just commenced. Yasmin stood gazing at herself in the mirror unable to comprehend that this was her, her dreaded fate had dawned in on her at its core, her heart was thumbing faster than usual. Soon she would leave this place she had called home for the last twelve years. Soon her childhood, her youthfulness her untried dreams, her innocence would just be a past memory in her mind and the minds of those who love her. She had vowed to never capitulate to meeting the same fate as her sister Nadia; she had sworn to never let that happen to her, but now her final big day had come. So was Harrans who was now in the toilet sobbing and throwing up her breakfast. She came out of the toilet holding her rosy traditional Arabic wedding dress by the sides with her make up smudged all over her face that her husband to be’s female cousins and sisters sighed in exasperation. They had taken extra hard work and precaution in embellishing her with the most lov
"Why did you call my office today?" He grunted as he held her close. A wave of rage had engulfed him to the point that he was struggling to control himself. He had both hands placed on her arms whilest he shook her. "Did I not tell you to never call or visit me when I'm at work? You want to embarass me?" He stepped back and started pacing back and forth in their bedroom. "Oh I see Yasmin... You want everyone to know I married an uneducated illiterate woman?" Yasmin burst into tears. Tears of pain and sorrow brought forth by the harsh and cold treatment he recieved from her husband Jamal. Life was harsh for her as Jamal's family did not like her. To them she was a stranger, A poor girl from a poor family not deserving to into their family, undeserving of the status, to call her self his wife. "I wish I never got married to you Yasmin, I can't even take you any were without being embarrassed, without fearing wha
The last thing Yasmin reminisced was waking up in hospital phasing in and out of consciousness every now and then. Despite the fact that she had no idea how she ended up there, she remembered being struck by this horrendous feeling of terror, and a sharp pain across her chest every time she regained consciousness. Her blurry vision would spot the doctors and nurses rushing around in sheer panic then relief after resuscitating her. One time she overhead the doctor confiding in one of the nurses, telling her her case was hopeless and how she was not going to make it. Yasmin’s heart sank when she heard those dreadful words that she bitterly wept when everyone left. On the days that followed, the young woman started drowning in sadness and she was slowly sinking to the bottom of an ocean of desolation that she started to believe she was going to perish along with her forgotten dreams, but deep within her was a flame, a flicker of hope that sought to triumph over her despair,
Finally, Yasmin was discharged from the hospital after a few more days and the doctor handed her a note from her rescuer written in blue ink in Arabic.'It was a pleasure for me saving your life beautiful stranger, ' ...it read.' Please visit me on this address for any help you might need,' then an address and name followed printed in capital letters but in black ink."He's quite a nice man you know," the doctor a short man in his mid fifties, balding head with a few strands of white hair and a long beard said, wearing a faint looking smile while glaring at her in pity." It's not everyday anybody decides to do this much just for a stranger. Especially for him! Do you know who saved your life miss? " He asked with a looked of exhilaration on his face."He's the twenty-year-old son of the wealthiest man in the city, a billionaire who runs one of the largest oil companies in the gulf. The young man kind of took a liki
"Why did you call my office today?" He grunted as he held her close. A wave of rage had engulfed him to the point that he was struggling to control himself. He had both hands placed on her arms whilest he shook her. "Did I not tell you to never call or visit me when I'm at work? You want to embarass me?" He stepped back and started pacing back and forth in their bedroom. "Oh I see Yasmin... You want everyone to know I married an uneducated illiterate woman?" Yasmin burst into tears. Tears of pain and sorrow brought forth by the harsh and cold treatment he recieved from her husband Jamal. Life was harsh for her as Jamal's family did not like her. To them she was a stranger, A poor girl from a poor family not deserving to into their family, undeserving of the status, to call her self his wife. "I wish I never got married to you Yasmin, I can't even take you any were without being embarrassed, without fearing wha
The wedding proceedings had just commenced. Yasmin stood gazing at herself in the mirror unable to comprehend that this was her, her dreaded fate had dawned in on her at its core, her heart was thumbing faster than usual. Soon she would leave this place she had called home for the last twelve years. Soon her childhood, her youthfulness her untried dreams, her innocence would just be a past memory in her mind and the minds of those who love her. She had vowed to never capitulate to meeting the same fate as her sister Nadia; she had sworn to never let that happen to her, but now her final big day had come. So was Harrans who was now in the toilet sobbing and throwing up her breakfast. She came out of the toilet holding her rosy traditional Arabic wedding dress by the sides with her make up smudged all over her face that her husband to be’s female cousins and sisters sighed in exasperation. They had taken extra hard work and precaution in embellishing her with the most lov
It was only a few months after she had arrived home that Yasmin received devastating news that shook her to the core of her being. News that she never expected to hear so soon in her young life. The news shook her so much that she curled up on the floor in pain, severe chest pains; a panic attack hitting her at maximum. Harran was desperately shaking her semiconscious frame in a panic to stir her back to full consciousness. Her sister’s voice echoed in her ears like little bells rung in a large hall as she screamed in vain. “ Yasi, whats wrong Yasi answer me please sister!” The shocked Nadia paced back in dismay kicking the cell phone that lay on their bedroom floor with the back of her left foot. Then a few minutes later Nadia picked up the cell phone only to find out that the call had not been disconnected. On the other end a distraught Ali was still engulfed in sobs that could be stridently heard. “Whats wrong with Yasmin” Ali s voice unveile
Yasmin's father stomped in the house in anger shouting at the top of his lungs, yelling for her. He was in a bad temper as was typical, but today, he seemed more maddened and agitated. When Yasmin exited the bedroom and paced into the corridor towards the living room, her eyes started to water as she witnessed a sight that would haunt her, every minute, every day of her life, a sight so horrific, fearful, her small frame was trembling, paralyzed with distressing anxiety , a sight that would be embedded in her mind for the rest of her life. Her father stood tall dressed in white traditional wear and a turban holding Nadia by her light blue traditional tunic tucking at it vigorously as if to torture her, the sorrowful looking Mohammed was behind him gazing at particularly nothing on the floor. . She knew all hell was about to break loose, but for the happiness of her sister she was about to give up everything, even sacrifice her own life for her b
Harran was named after her aunt, because of her beautiful features and that resembled her. The name Harran is of Sumerian origin’ meaning ' home of the Queens and Kings’. Harran was an ancient city situated in the middle ea. Yasmin’s grandmother liked the ring to it. To her it sounded ancient and perfect for her daughter(Yasmin's aunt) because she cherished her for the beauty she possessed and treated her like a queen while her mother was a bit in the shadows and ignored because she was plain, no attractive features!, NO wonder the childless wealthy aunt also took a liking to Harran when they were children and begged her mother to let her take her. Yasmin's parents were more than relieved in letting their barren relatives take away Harran with them to raise as their own. At least she'd have a good home and would get a good education. Now she had blossomed in
of tall green mountains that appeared to be coated in white at the top, white as ice, overlapping in the distance. Her pale frail, withered hands worked with skill, hands that disclosed years of poverty, hands toughened from hard work in the fields all day in the scorching heat during farming seasons from the tender age of six to executing the heftiest hardest house chores simultaneously daily exploited by her parents handed to her cruel husband who exploited her as well and as she had mastered this art she exploited herself, her skill to an essential volume to bring out the uniqueness of her painting with realistic features and traces, chucking in a few green shades here and there, then smoothing them out with a grey shade using charcoal ashes and white dried root powder blistering her fingers on the rough surface of the rock in the process. She did not seem to care because the zeal within her drove her that one cou
Yasmin!’ A happy Nadia smiled as she opened the door for her. “You're back!” They hugged like they hadn't seen each other in decades. "What took you so long? I called you here weeks ago.” Her fathers husky voice could be heard from behind the door as he drew nearer popping up behind Nadia. His tone was harsh as usual, no hello Yasmin, nothing… just a straight up bold question. He seemed to have gotten more wrinkles on his face despite the fact that he always had a scowling look on. She had to explain to him that she was not permitted to leave her job in the middle of the month if she did, she wouldn't get paid. The mistress had taken extra precaution in informing her this in a displeasured manner. During her days at the mansion Yasmin had learned that Mrs Isminah Al masi was not only the mistress of craftiness and deceit, the husband had taken extra care in hiding the woman' s brutal ways. She was responsible for cleaning up her son Amir' mistakes. She
Yasmin had been working for the Almasi family for only a year when she received a letter from home that shattered her to tiny little pieces. The letter disclosed that her mother had a cancer of the blood the doctors called leukaemia. She never thought something like this could happen to her mother, she was everything to her. The woman who taught her to pursue her dreams, to love, her idol that taught her to be herself, the woman who taught her to persue all the pleasures she desired in life because nothing in this life was permanent one has to utilise the timespan one has to reach one's self actualization. Now the letter stated money was needed to pay for her chemo therapy. Yasmin knew no way of acquiring this large amount until one evening while at servants quotas, her master Amir showed up all smiling and happy. Yasmin was siting with one of the maids on the floor crying her eyes out. The room wa
Yasmin didnt enjoy her job as young Master Amir' s servant, she was forced to abide by his orders even the most ludicrous ones. The days always ended with the young Master sitting on his couch drunk, smiling while making some ridiculous sexual offer to her then he'd pass out. She would take off his shoes, and jacket and help him to bed. Ali seemed to distance himself more and more from her after the slumber party night's incident. She also figured it was due to his grandma umi passing a few months after Jasmine started working there. Now the middle grand villa was empty. Despite that though, the man was doing successful. He was in his fourth year at a local university. He also worked in for his father during holidays. He had been given a good position in his father oil company due to his cleverness. While on the other hand Amani preferred to spend his father's money as if it were her last days on earth. The now twenty-one year old was the m