The room was tidy, much too tidy. It was supposed to be this way, she was supposed to be used to it and she was, this was her room after all but today she didn't like how tidy the room was kept. This was how her life was right now, like how it was supposed to be; neat, arranged and perfect as expected of the only daughter to the King of Saudi Arabia.
Things were to be placed in accordance, to the taste of the beautician, to be arranged and coloured to perfection, that was how spotless her room was and that was the exact way she felt her life had become, she being the room and her father the beautician. She had been set up and arranged, ready for someone to come and move into her life, continuing from where her father had stopped as her husband, to rule and control and order her about, but Mariam was not used to being ordered about.
She knew that being a girl, being a woman meant you had little or no freedom, you couldn't wear whatever you wanted to wear whenever you wanted to wear it, you couldn't just go anywhere on your own and even your friends were selected and it was much worse when you were born into the family of a high status. There were things expected of you and you had no room for flip ups. You couldn't let anyone down.
She was grateful that she had friends, Saadiya and Parvina. She used to have more but they were married of and married women had no time for friends or social gathering except during wedding ceremonies or when they accompanied their husbands to events. But even so, you couldn't just wander off on your own.
Mariam sat in front of the open window after the wreckage she had caused in her room, staring out into nothingness. She had flung out all her dresses from the wardrobe onto the floor and scattered the bed, ripping off the bed sheet and tearing open the...