Royalty Gone Bad novel Chapter 12

Writer’s POV:

Asahd went through hell that week. The limited food, cold showers, common clothes and life. He shed at least a tear every single night. It’d been only five days, yet, Asahd actually felt like giving up on life. For real. And on top of that, he had not found a job yet and it was already the weekend. Though he’d really searched for one.

Djafar with the help of Saïda, maintained his word. Now they gave nothing but plain toast to Asahd in the morning and a can of baked beans, for dinner. Eventually, if he didn’t find a little job before the next week, he would have nothing at all. Asahd knew it was no joke. He was finished.

***

Asahd’s POV:

I left another shop, still no one wanted help or wanted to employ a worker. I had come down to nothing. It was so hard that I’d ended up asking if I could clean floors, shop and restaurant toilets...

Yes, I was ready to be nothing but a cleaner. I’d tried everything. I’d gone to restaurants and had asked to clean their floors or help to wash dishes in the kitchen, but nothing. I’d knocked at people’s door, asking if they needed a babysitter, but to no avail. I was tired.

--

I sat on a wall in the streets, a lump in my throat.

It’d been a few days, yet I started to see what it felt like to be without resources. What it felt like to toil and look for any means to make a little money. I was hungry most of the time because I ate nothing but plain toast in the morning and stayed like that till evening, when I would have canned beans. I couldn’t even steal snacks from the fridge because Djafar had put a lock on in.

'A LOCK! WHO THE HELL, PUTS A LOCK ON A FRIDGE?!'

I was so angry. Angry at my parents. I felt I hated them for doing this to me. I was angry at Djafar, for participating in their evil plan. I was angry at the world! I was bitter and had not spoken to either Saïda or Djafar, for days. My objective was, to find a damned job that would give me a little money.

-

I was scrolling through my phone when I came up with an idea. Just like that.

′This better work.′

I hopped off the wall and walked my way to the busy streets. I took a deep breath because what I was about to do was going to need a lot of courage and convincing.

′Think positive.′

I shut my eyes and forced the frown I had on, off my face.

′Time to use your skills.′

I thought in amusement. I was very good at convincing people, especially the ladies. I scored a lot of points with them, when I wanted. And I was going to use it to get myself a means of making a little money.

-

Smiling, I stood in the middle of the sidewalk and the busily moving crowd. I spotted a young woman that looked kind. I wasn’t going to stop some stern looking people that would cuss at me or something, like psychopaths.

“Hello ma’am,” I smiled at her and she stopped, smiling back and a little surprised.

“Yes, hello?”

“I’m Asahd,” I stretched a hand out and she shook it.

“Do I know you?”

“Nope. I would like to know, do you have a lawn?”

“Uh, yes,” she mused at the odd question.

“Then today’s your lucky day. Today you get my number and a free opportunity to mow your lawn. If you’re satisfied with my job right after, and if you need your lawn mowed perfectly and at a cheap price, some other time again, you can call me. But for a first, I’ll do it for free, for the pretty lady that you are,” I bowed playfully and she giggled a little.

“Wow,” she mused. “That’s a nice offer but I don’t think I need any help with my lawn.”

“That’s what you think,” I replied and she laughed a little. “Give me a chance. Anytime you’re free. For the first time, I’ll do it for free. Just give me a chance,” I smiled at her and she blushed.

“Hmmm, you’re foreign and that makes me doubt if your an illegal immigrant or clandestine. Are you legal, at least?”

“Yes, I am. No worries,” I took my papers out. Tourist Visa and passport.

“Oh, you are. But if you’re a tourist, why look for little jobs.”

“It’s kind of complicated to explain,” I mused and she laughed a little.

“Okay, I won’t ask any more questions. As long as you are legal,” she took her phone out. “Your number?”

′YES!′

I gave her my number and she promised to call if ever she finally needed my services.

I went on and on and at the end if the day, I’d convinced about eleven women to take my number and all had promised to give me a call when necessary. I hoped they would as soon as possible. I’d precised that I would always be available on weekends and only weekends, just in case I found something else to do too.

That little activity had given me a little hope.