7
Ziza tore off her remaining sneaker and chucked it with all the force she could muster at the girl's back. But because the universe hadn’t been on her side the whole day, the shoe decided her aiming sucked. Instead of hitting Rashida in the centre of her head, it hit the Prince in the back of his head with a low thud. If he’d been wearing a keffiyeh, she was sure it’d been knocked off his head. Ziza gasped and her heart slammed against her ribs.
What had she done?
Suddenly, in one swift motion, two guards roughly yanked her arms behind her back, binding them, then they forced her to kneel. The heel must have ticked him off, Ziza swallowed as she watched him turn around. Anger evident with the murderous glint present in his eyes as it took him two quick strides to reach her.
Without any hesitation, he slapped her across the face. Hard enough to split her lip. Upon impact, her head twisted to the side. But the Prince wasn’t done yet, for good measure, he backhanded her.
The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth almost immediately. No doubt tomorrow she was going to look all swollen, with handprints stuck to her face.
This time, the blow was forceful enough to disorient Ziza, giving her whiplash. This, was the worst physical pain she’d ever felt in her life, well close enough. If it were a joke, she would have been seeing stars—but it wasn't. Until two seconds ago, she’d never been hit by a man before and it wouldn’t surprise her if she found she had lost a tooth.
The last thing she heard was, "Striking a royal is punishable by death! But because I will be lenient with you, the worst you are going to endure is a holding cell. That ought to teach you to conduct yourself in my presence.”
“Take her away and make it quiet, none of this needs to end up in the media." before she slumped over and went to sleep.
He’d literally slapped her lights out.
Ziza jack-knifed into a sitting position with a loud gasp. She rued the moment she made the voluntary action when pain throbbed from different areas in her body. Pushing all that to the back of her mind, she blinked a few times to focus her blurry vision.
A whimper escaped her trembling lips once she surveyed her surroundings and realized where she was. It took a moment for the confusion to give into anxiety as her memories returned to her. Dread radiated within her chest, causing her to wrap her arms around her torso.
She was alone in a small, lonely and musty jail cell. Solid walls surrounded her, save for the bars where that opened into her cell. Standing to her shaky legs, she walked up to them, wound her trembling fingers around them so she could try to peer out into the hallway. She couldn’t see anything or anyone. Everything was quiet and she couldn’t see anything other than white walls and jail bars everywhere. If there were other detainees around, they must have been quiet because the silence was overwhelming. Giving up with her head hung, Ziza shuffled back to her lumpy bed. Never had she thought she’d end up in such a place. All because she took the bait and assaulted someone powerful. This couldn’t be happening. How was she here in the first place? Weren’t they supposed to process her before throwing her in a box? Ask her questions and read out her rights? But then again, she thought, if one had the power to do what they wanted, it’d explain this mess.
So many more questions overwhelmed her mind, she didn’t know where to begin. Why had she woken up in jail instead of a hospital with a cuff around her wrist or something? What was going to happen to her now? Was she going to prison? What would happen to her career and how would she get out of here?
In the movies, being in a holding cell was never scary. There were always people in the cell next to you, making chit-chat about their stories on how they ended up there. There was almost noise everywhere as new arrivals are being processed and thrown into their designated cells till someone came to pick them up. You would think it was the same in actual life.
Wrong.
It scared Ziza to death, the situation she was in. First, because she had never been in a jail cell. Hell, she’d never gotten a single parking ticket, or a complaint filed against her! Second, she had never committed a crime, at least not the kind that warranted arrest... until now.
Great. Not only had she pissed off the crown prince! But she was going to have a criminal record. As if it weren’t enough, she was most probably going to lose her job, and that was the only thing bringing food to her table, paying the bills and helping with her tuition. She was lucky to be alive, she realised, given what she’d done. Why did she have to be so stupid?
Ziza sniffed as she slowly tucked her cold, shoeless feet beneath her to keep herself warm. The air in the room was cold, probably because of the AC humming away in the hallway. It wasn’t helping one bit that the aching in her jaw was killing her. Rubbing her temples and wincing when her fingers touched the swollen flesh, she scanned the dull grey walls. They perched an enormous clock high on the wall opposite to her cell, showing that the time was just after four in the evening. But how long since the incident had occurred? Ziza didn’t know. But she was in so much trouble.
Just as another whimper escaped her chapped lips, she heard a buzzer then, the jiggling of a bunch of keys on a key ring the same instant a door opened.
Heavy footsteps thumped on the concrete floor, causing her to ball herself up in the corner on her bed, wide eyed. As far away from the bars as possible. Then the footsteps stopped. There, beyond the bars, stood a tall, brawny policeman holding a bunch of keys in one of his hands and a white paper cup in the other.
“You are finally awake.” The man remarked as he stared down at her. Ziza remained quiet whilst sitting on the lumpy bed, silently wishing she were safe in her room instead. Fear was most probably written across her face in bold capital letters because the man said, “Relax, you are in safe hands, there’s no need to be scared.”
Ziza wanted to utter back that it neither looked nor felt like she was safe, but she didn’t know whether it would be a good idea.
“Ma’am please stand, walk to the bars and place your wrists through here.” Ziza remained still. She wanted to move, but she couldn’t as tears slowly blurred her vision.
The officer sighed as he shuffled on his feet and waited.
“Ma’am, I need you to co-operate with me here, that’s if you want to make it out of here sooner rather than later. Do you think you can do that?” He asked. That’s when Ziza noticed the cuffs in his hands. She gave him a small nod to show him she was going to be Co-operative. Wearily eyeing the gun holstered on his hip, she tentatively did as he ordered, placing her wrists through the rectangle gap in her cell door. The officer didn’t say another word as he cuffed her. She winced as the metal edges bit into her skin uncomfortably, then she stepped back when he told her to.
“Open C5!” he shouted in the direction he’d come from. Not even a second later, that same buzzer went off and her cell bars slid open. Upon being escorted into the empty hallway by her elbow, she summed up that he’d communicated with someone watching through the surveillance camera mounted in the top corner above the main door into the custody suite.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked
“Interrogation room. We just need to get some information from you, you have nothing to be afraid of.” He replied.
Not long after and still in cuffs, Ziza was sitting in an interview like room. Something entirely different from the dark small room with one table and two chairs. This room was more like a large office, with the computer and a few open flat files on the desk.
“Here, drink this, it’s water. You probably have a dry throat.” The officer offered a plain white paper cup to her, which she gladly took and finished in one gulp. Though it wasn’t much in terms of amount, it helped soothe her dry throat some. She was grateful.
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat.
“I’m officer Amid Nahas. I know you might not be feeling well because of some injuries you have sustained, but you have to co-operate with me so we can communicate effectively and have you home sooner rather than later. Is that alright?” Ziza gave the man a nod before he continued.
“Alright, the information we attained from you when you arrived, stated that you are Miss Aziza Bashar, correct?” He lifted his onyx gaze from the papers on the clipboard before him to look at her. Ziza gave him a small yes.
“And can you confirm that this is your address?” She did.
“Okay, I’m going to read your rights to you. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney during and after questioning, and if you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to represent you. Do you understand these rights?”
“Yes.” She wanted to cry. The more the officer talked, the more her situation became daunting. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. How could she have gotten herself into this mess? This was an utter nightmare. The worst-case scenario. Ziza waived her rights. All she had to do was tell the truth, right? Even though it may cost her. Besides, she had no one to back her and nowhere in hell was she going to drag Ferran into her mess. Again.
Officer Nahas quickly entered her into the database, fingerprints, mug shots and all. Then he had her sit again and prepared her for questioning.
“Miss Bashar, the reason for your arrest was that you’ve been charged with assault against Miss Rashida Mustafa and Prince Rafiq Al Shahaad. I have statements from both of them. Can you please recount the incident to the best of your ability?” As soon as the word ‘assault,’ left the man’s lips, a few tears spilled onto her cheeks. But she told him how she’d gotten into an argument with Rashid, including how it quickly escalated to a physical altercation until she passed out.
“Miss Bashar, you have been in our custody for the seventeen hours. Now, I have to tell you, you also have the right to one phone call. But that rights do not apply anymore. Since they brought you in unconscious, we contacted your next of kin, your mother—”
“She’s my stepmother,” Ziza interjected in a soft voice.
“Very well. We contacted her at one am, but unfortunately, she could not come down to the station but she is coming tonight.” He said.
She wanted to scoff at that statement. The only reason Faizah hadn’t come for her any sooner is that she wanted her to suffer first before coming to her rescue. Ziza was sure of that. Her stepmother was just that cold towards her, but Aziza didn’t care anymore. She was used to her treating her like nothing.
“I apologize that we didn’t attend to any of your injuries, we were only following his Majesty’s orders to not attend to them. But you can get checked just before you leave. However, this is not over yet.” He looked down at her as if asking for her permission to tell him to continue. Ziza only gave the man a small nod.
“His Royal Highness and Miss Mustafa have refused to drop all charges against you.” Aziza sighed in relief at that, “But, your bail was just approved and because of the sensitivity and circumstances of this case, it’s set at $20 000.” He said.
Ziza almost chocked on her spit at the amount. At first, Ziza thought Faizah was going to kill, but now she was sure she was going to do just that. Her eyes bulged from their sockets. This had to be a joke!
“Are you okay ma’am?” The officer asked the girl once he had seen her facial expression.
“No-I mean yeah, yes I-I’m just fine.” Ziza shook her head. Seeing that she was confused but wouldn’t admit to it, Officer Nahas explained to her situation.
She’d assaulted the Royal Crown prince that, was a serious criminal offence. From the way the office saw it, she was lucky to be where she was. Ziza didn’t see it that way. The prince could have minded his business and looked the other way as far as she was concerned. He provided her with what would happen once Faizah bailed her out, that they would schedule a later date for a court appearance. How that was going to happen and so forth. Afterwards, he escorted her back to her cell, where she had to wait until Faizah came to collect her. That was something she wasn’t looking forward to. If only she’d had enough money, she would have bailed herself. But she was behind with so many payments that she couldn’t scrap the bottom of her credit card anymore. What was she going to do?
The worry and stress gnawed at her conscience too much for her to fall asleep, though her body felt exhausted. Her rumpled and uncomfortable uniform wasn’t helping either. It was going to be a long night again. She wondered to herself how much more she could take.