The Haider Mansion had only one upper floor. But it was a wide structure. Amna was in her old bedroom. She walked over to the bedroom window. And stared out at the street. It was night outside and street lamps poured fluorescent light over the roads.
There were two knocks at the door. That was definitely her butler.
"You may come in, Mahmood," Amna said not shifting from her position.
Mahmood obediently opened the door. He walked over to the middle of the room.
"Lady Amna. A visitor is here to see you," Mahmood informed.
"At this time of night?" She asked still unmoved.
"It is Lord Saif," he replied.
Amna hastily turned around to face her servant. "Take me to him."
Mahmood escorted her to the guest lounge downstairs. A skinny figure wearing a black suit stood there. He had his back to them. He was busy admiring a painting on the wall.
"Saif?" Amna asked in disbelief.
The figure turned around to reveal himself. A cute 18-year old with long silky black hair, curled up to his shoulders. He cast her a smile revealing the dimples on his cheeks.
"Lady Amna." He walked over to her, and took her hand. "You look stunning." He said kissing her on the hand.
She could feel herself blush. "That is Aunt to you. You do not look quite bad yourself."
"Am I permitted to take it as a compliment?" He joked.
They both shared a laugh. Amna ran a soft hand through her nephew's hair.
"How are your art classes going?" She asked him. "I heard you have made quite a progress."
"Yes, I have," he replied.
"Mahmood was informing me that you would be holding a selection tomorrow afternoon."
"Yes, indeed. I am going to choose my first artistic love," he said with a grin. "I will draw a portrait of the girl who I deem most beautiful."
"Splendid."
Lord Saif turned around, and gazed at the painting of his grandfather Lord Muneed Haider. It was an aged portrait of him standing up with the support of a cane.
"There is one disappointment though," Lord Saif said. "I've already picked the candidate."
"And that luck girl is?" His aunt asked.
"Ironically, the answer is..." He turned around. "Right in front of my own two eyes."
***
Lord Saif was Amna's beloved nephew. His mother was Amna's older sister, who had succumbed to death by cancer. The year after that his father committed suicide. That was many years ago. His aunt Amna took care of him after that.
Their affection grew by the years. He considered her as his second mother. That was the power of the bond that they shared.
"Ah, Lady Amna. It has been too long." Lord Frederick greeted her.
"We did not know you would be coming back to London, dear," his wife said.
The couple were friends of Amna's late parents. Her parents had died in a train crash when she was five years old.
"It is always a pleasure not to be expected. And yet still arrive." Lady Amna said with a cute smile.
She had just entered the Manson Hall of Arts. Various paintings and portraits were posted on the walls. She noticed their attractiveness.
Even the paintings are more attractive than the people here, she thought.
"The weird thing about art is that either the art is remembered or the artist. Both cannot be remembered," a mildly attractive brunette said. She wore an off-white dress and hat. Her eyes were as an oceanic blue. She seemed not so beautiful, but still good looking.
She seems a wise woman, Amna thought checking her out from head to toe.
"This is Lady Rebecca." Lord Frederick introduced her to Lady Amna.
"Pleased to meet you," Amna said. "I'm Lady Amna."
Rebecca frowned, "I haven't seen you around London before. Are you not originally from here?"
"On the contrary, I am. I usually travel to Asia a lot. To visit my parents' village."
"A London girl visiting an Asian village. Most unlikely," Lady Rebecca commented.
"We will be at the main gallery. Cheers." Lady Amy, Lord Frederick's wife, said.
The husband and wife departed from the scene, leaving Amna alone with her new companion. Lady Rebecca stopped a waiter. She took one drink and asked whether Amna would like a glass.
"No, thank you." Lady Amna raised a hand.
Rebecca put one glass back on the tray and the waiter carried on. She took a short sip of her alcohol.
"Here comes my sweetheart." Rebecca said raising her glass.
A 30something year-old man with short curly-black hair and a French-cut beard appeared next to them. He did not even pass them a smile. His mouth was tightened up in a frown.
"Hello sweetie," Lady Rebecca greeted him.
"Do not call me that." He said taking a gulp of his drink.
"Lord Alfred is a famous poet. He used to write to me while I was at school with him," Lady Rebecca explained. The evil smile on her face was still there.
"And you never accepted the depth of my poems," Lord Alfred said. "Or my offer to marry you."
"Marriage is not a symbol of love. It's just a sign to show other people that you can officially sleep together," Lady Rebecca remarked. "And that is the reason I am still not married."
Lady Amna gazed surprisingly at her. She looked a little above thirty. Yet she was still not married.
Lord Alfred walked past Rebecca. She took another sip smiling to herself. For some reason, Amna started admiring Lady Rebecca. Her personality was unique.
"Lord James should spend more time learning how to comb his hair than traveling," Lady Rebecca said.
She was pointing her finger at a man who was some distance away, admiring an abstract painting on the wall.
Amna giggled. She had a nice sense of humor too. She noticed Rebecca eyeing her.
"I won't compliment you on your beauty. I am sure you have heard that many times," Lady Rebecca said.
"It has become so repetitive," Amna sighed.
"So, why are you here?" She asked her. "Beautiful people do not spend their free time visiting art galleries."
"Could you explain why they do not spend their time doing that?"
"They spend most of their time staring at the mirror. Pictures are of no value to them," Lady Rebecca explained.
Lady Amna was not at all offended. She admired her new friend's integrity.
An elderly lady appeared in front of them. She was well-dressed and had plenty of wrinkles on her aging face.
"Aunt Julia. This is lady Amna. My new companion," Lady Rebecca said.
Aunt Julia and Lady Amna exchanged pleasant glances.
"I hope she has spared you her twisted mentality," Aunt Julia told Amna.
"Lady Rebecca is quite an admirable person," Lady Amna commented.
"What brings you here?" Aunt Julia asked.
"I am here to see my nephew, Lord Saif. He is to select the girl whom he shall paint a portrait of," Lady Amna explained.
After a while, the two new friends walked over to the main gallery. Amna's nephew was seated behind a long desk at the end of the hall.
He looked bored. A long queue of tall, beautiful girls stood in front of the table. Lord Saif checked their faces and their figures and then jotted down something on a sheet of paper.
There was a background wallpaper positioned at the other side of the hall. Lord Saif motioned the girls to walk over there and pose themselves in front of it.
Lady Amna went over to examine the pink-colored wallpaper.
"That's it!" A familiar voice shouted.
She turned around to see Lord Saif standing behind his desk. An expression of excitement on his handsome face. He had his index finger pointed at her.
"I choose you Lady Amna," he told her. "To be my most artistic creation ever."
***
Lady Amna stood in front of a medium-sized mirror next to the staircase in the lounge. She was admiring herself in her new dress. A black dress which she bought from her parents' village the last time she had visited.
Why must I admire my own beauty? She thought.
She brought her face closer to the mirror. As if trying to enter the glass.
I want my face to stay like this forever, she contemplated..
A strange noise made her jump. She turned around to face the large portrait on the wall. It was of her grandfather Lord Muneeb Haider.
She had never met him. He had died before she was born. He looked so much like her late father.
Thud. Thud.
The strange noise was heard again Like metals hitting each other. She sensed that it was coming from upstairs. She started to ascend the staircase on her left.
The upper floor's hallway was completely empty. Again, the noise came. She stared down the left side of the hallway. No one in sight. Slowly, she made her way across the hall.
There was a door at the end of the hall. She knew exactly where it led. To the attic. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the doorknob. The door opened with a loud crack.
Tiny steps lay in front of her. She held up her dress and made her way up the spiral steps. The walls were old and dusty. After a few seconds she reached a small path. Which led to the attic.
There it was. The paint on the door slightly missing. A dusty key was lodged inside the keyhole. She gulped. Perspiration covered her forehead. She closed her eyes. And started walking quickly towards the door. A slight migraine bothered her head.
She stopped. Holding the side of her head in pain Her eyes were still closed. She tried reaching for the doorknob. She gasped. Something sticky touched her palm.
She backed away. Her back against the wall. She opened her eyes. And realized she hadn't touched the doorknob. But instead, the wall to her side. A half-torn web lay there. She rubbed her hands against each other.
She saw the door. Nasty images started appearing in her mind. The images were unclear. But scary. They confused her.
Slowly, she reached for the doorknob.
Closer. Closer.
The images kept appearing. Horrifying images.
Closer. Closer.
"Aunt Amna?" A familiar voice asked.
She turned around. And witnessed her nephew staring suspiciously at her.
"Saif dear. What brings you here?" She asked him.
"Maybe I should ask you that question." He said raising an eyebrow.
Amna smiled. "I was just checking this place. Spiders seem to find it very comfortable." She lied.
"Indeed." He replied looking at the cobwebs covering most parts of the walls. "Aunt Amna. You don't have to lie to me."
"Excuse me?"
"You were about to enter the attic. You always told me never to open that door. Why?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I have bitter memories about it. That's all."
There was a brief silence.
"Have you come here to paint my portrait?" His aunt asked.
He shook his head. "I have a surprise for you." He held out his hand.
She accepted it. "Are you about to introduce me to your lover?"
Lord Saif laughed. "I'm sure you'll meet her at my wedding. Let's go."
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