"Cigs in me and I am branding addiction now!"
Days passed and Faheeda's fear came to life now, Layla's engrossment with rotten to the core apples led to her ‘Sparking fire to one's own body’ journey. Liquor and cigarettes fueled her body, preparing her to burn to ashes sooner or later.
In the timeline of 1990-2000, she was caught flat-footed by Faheeda when out of addiction Layla turned out to have several deck of cigs under her bed and piles of unholy water placed delicately in her new almira that she ordered saying ‘I need some space as a grown up.’
That Night.. around 2:30 ish. Layla rode the car in hushed streets, surrounded by tall trees behind laid thick forest. Blazing in a black glimmer gown within and the trench coat covers her body as her own skin. Left hand concentrated on the steering wheel while her right hand’s feathery finger clamped the cigar as if well-trained. She took the intoxication close to her mouth and pressed the cigar's edge in between her soft lips which were at the verge to be hardened to peel off. She inhaled the poison that's heavenly and puffed out the remaining smoke outside the window letting it mix with the air. In life, she was losing her eyesight. She needed to shut them close, tight but it's about her body that oozes liquor’s grace through eyes and heaviness in her.
She neared the Sinclair Mansion. She shuts her hand forcefully on the horn making an almost ear deafening sound. The guard’s eye fluttered open and he rushed to save his job, to open the gate.
Impatient Layla, puffed out her cigar’s last bit of the nicotine, and flung it out of the window as if it didn't matter anymore. With a quick move she sped her car towards the parking area. She felt everything that's down rise up in her with every ounce of intoxication. Layla walked up to her room, dreaming to have another night spent for herself.
The moment she entered her room, she felt different now because of the aura that's firmly set on the creamy shaded sofa chair.
Layla's baby steps that she tried to make back in her childhood, those struggles are held back ashamed by the way she was trembling at her youth.
Faheeda's eyes shedded tears as she pushed away the bedspread, the almira opened and splashed the evidence right out.
“What have you gifted me, Layla?” Faheeda screamed out in pain, frustration.
“That's..” Layla stammered. Failing to answer. After all, she didn't expect this at all.
In a spur of the moment, Faheeda slapped, imprinting her fingers on Layla's complexion. Faheeda whipped Layla insanely. Her body heated up with immense dissatisfaction of her own taste of parenting. The night dipped in painful scream and displeasure. That's when Clement interfered with the chaos. Clement rushed to save his daughter.
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