Royalty Gone Bad

Writer’s POV:

After thorough cleaning of the apartment, till it looked great, father and daughter left the apartment to go buy necessities.

“We need a vacuum cleaner. The carpet and chairs aren’t completely clean,” Saïda told her father.

“Right. Add that on the list.”

“Okay. What about clothes for Asahd? We were supposed to go with him.”

“I watched him grow. I know his size in clothes and shore. And all he’s getting is t-shirts, jeans -ripped- and normal, shorts, jerseys, sweats and sneakers, sneakers, sneakers. No expensive leather shoe or whatsoever.”

“Oh my,” Saïda giggled. “I get to buy my own clothes, right?”

“Yes and I’ll do same. I don’t really know what I need but I’ll ask the shopkeepers.”

“Okay, father.”

Djafar stopped and turned to his daughter.

“And darling, you’ll have to stop calling me, father.”

“Oh, right. Dad,” she mused.

“Good. Let’s go.”

“Will Asahd return? It’s been two hours.”

“He will. He has absolutely no where to go to.”

“Does he know this address?”

“I think he will. It is clearly written on the outside of the door, and the inside. Even if he didn’t mean to look at it, I think he’ll remember.”

“Hmm, okay. Hopefully. We have to buy new sim cards to stay in contact. Asahd bought one at the airport, after we’d arrived.”

“Really? How did the sultan call him, then?”

“I think he biped the palace phone. It has this thing that enables you to recall the person from whom you missed the call. Like every other office phone, today, does. I bet you don’t know about voicemail,” she mused, trying not to mock her father.

“I’m not that primitive,” he rolled his eyes. “But I admit, I’m very old school.”

“Facts,” Saïda finally laughed. “They surely guessed it was him and called back when we left the airport. Or, he biped the Sultan’s personal phone. Either ways.”

“That was wise.”

“We’ll get you a phone. A smart phone,” Saïda laughed.

Djafar had never bothered to get himself a phone. Never. He was always in the palace and if someone had to talk to him, it was through an office phone in his room. He didn’t want to evaluate. He didn’t even care about new technology like every other person around him. He was the only person in that palace, that had probably never used a smart phone.

Even the sultan and Queen had personal phones and numbers which they gave to family members or really close friends.

right to have a online account to whatever popular site. What happened in the palace, had to remain in. No one wanted people filming and posting pictures and things about the palace. They could do everything else, but create accounts. Of

***

from the mall, Asahd wasn’t back. It was

worried,

“Asahd will come back.”

***

Asahd’s POV:

I was, sitting on a bench in a park I found close by. My clothes were now twisted and my perfect hair, scattered, because I’d pulled on both

be happening? Asahd you are fucked

I did. I shed tears for a long while and took my phone

and when it came on, I almost skipped. I tried manipulating and was glad that no function was

now stuck with a cracked

annoying thought. But then decided to think positive. I needed positive at

phone. Way better than

better. It was already past 7PM. The park was empty. I was going

and wallet in

approached me and before I

wallet! Now!” he

any.

took over me was

fool me?!” he growled and I almost peed

check me! Please! I’m not lying!

robber laughed a little, clearly

purely

I

York. Well, welcome to New York!” he laughed, his gun still pointing at my forehead. I thought I

“P- please.”

and I jumped off that bench.

muttered

′Allah help me, please.′

my hands up. I never prayed, but there I was. A good coward.

the truth, huh?

Trembling, I turned.

“Please.”

expensive watch, looks gold. Bet it is. Those shoes too look expensive. Everything on you

swallowed, sure I would collapse at any

off,” he

“What-”

coat, shirt, shoes, watch, trousers! Want

′Bad luck. Karma.′

want to die!

wearing boxers

this!!” I cried out, pulling

happening

was, in a white singlet, black ankle socks and