Saturday, March 26, 2011









Laila pretended not to hear Rath when he demanded that she wait on his friends. She was watching the band and the crowd dancing, wondering if she would get a chance to speak with Ramji. She had on the scarf and the jewelry he had given her earlier. She smiles to herself as her mind goes back to their goodbye kisses earlier this afternoon.

Suddenly Rath slams a glass down on the table in front of her, startling her out of her daydream. “You are my servant, are you not? I am tired of you picking and choosing which orders you will follow and which ones you will not. I said to get us drinks and I mean right now!”

Several people stopped and stared when Rath raised his voice and Laila was embarrassed. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene in front of her friends, but she was not about to wait on a couple of whores just to please Rath.

“I said MOVE!!” Raths patience was at an end, not that he had much to begin with.

Glaring at her master, golden eyes flashing, Laila stands and takes the glass in her hand. “I will get yours, not theirs. I do not have to serve anyone else...”

Rath grabbed her hand, the one that held the glass and started to squeeze. “You will do as you are told or I will beat you, like I should have done the first time you disobeyed me.”

Laila was close to panic, the pressure on her hand moving from discomfort to actual pain. “Let go of me, I cant get your drink like this...”

Rath yells then, “You will learn to listen to your betters if its the last thing I do...”

The next sounds anyone hears are the glass as it shatters in Raths hand, Lailas hand trapped between. She screams in pain, glass shards biting deep into her hand. Blood starts to well and flow, crimson drops falling from her hand.

Her face goes still and white, not sure what the sight of the blood will do to Rath.

“Now maybe you will do as you are told the first time...” Laila wants nothing more in that instant to slap the smug look off his face.

Dont pass out, dont pass out..
..Laila keeps repeating, she tries to sit and catches sight of the red puddle on the floor. Just as she thinks she might miss the chair and hit the floor she is swept up in two strong arms and she can hear someone with a French accent say, “Take her to the back room, we will send for Rowan....”

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