The after affects of losing a parent at a young age can disrupt the workings of a young mind, to levels beyond human perception. To have had a parent walk out on you, when you're barely capable of taking steps on your own is even worse — absolutely devastating not only for the mental health of a person but also for the self confidence. It makes your entire personality revolve around that one larger than life event, where questioning ones self and worth is nothing but the norm. Events, such core events make or break you, blend you into shapes you did not know were possible, force you to lack behind the rest of your age fellows. Alayna Saleem was the result of one such event.
Her mother, a top model of her time fell in love with her father the moment she saw him at a fashion show — his company being in-charge of the security. It was love at first sight, a short affair and a rushed marriage followed suit and within the second year of marriage she came along in the white little carriage, their daughter — someone who was supposed to be the apple of her mother's eye. That, however was a lie. Her mother walked out of the french glass doors on her third birthday with her arms wrapped around the frame of her much younger beau. She had ran after her, like a lost little duck, but the door pinched her nose tight and nothing but tears streamed down her red, hot cheeks.
Ever since then Alayna Saleem had found her everything in the warm eyes of her father. After his divorce, he had gone into a recluse, for the first few months leaving her to the hands of their maids. They, in their crisp ironed uniforms bounced the happy baby, who had forgotten the scars — the open wounds left behind on her too engrossed with the pink dolls inside her bedroom. Once Saleem regained his senses, he took over his daughter's responsibility, focusing on it with full attention. There was not a moment when he let the young girl out of his sight, not even when she turned into the bright, energetic woman that she was.
Rolling under her crisp black sheets, Alayna smacked her hand along the wooden top of her nightstand. Groaning as the edge of her palm hit the corner of the table, a red mark already embedded on to the skin. Her freshly dyed red hair was tied together in a braid, the french manicure on her nails still intact — it would though shortly fall prey to her anxiousness. Her slender arms, were a contrast to the color of her bedsheets, the lithe form covered under the heavy duvet barely made a dent in the mattress.
The clock struck three minutes past seven as she got out of bed, running a hasty shower. The cold water relaxed the tired muscles after her late night run, a new habit she was adopting. The scent of her blueberry body wash lingered in the open pores of her skin, it would seep below and remain there for a long time to come. She was more familiar with the ingredients on the back of her toiletries than she was with her own job. Today, a bright Monday in the ever rainy England, was her first day at work — at her father's office.
Running down the stairs in her nude heels was a foolish move, she told herself as the pages from her still open briefcase flew across the threshold. Not to mention her ankle turned awkwardly as she jumped off of the second last step, her neatly tied ponytail coming loose and only by a fraction of an inch did she save her silk blouse from being stained by the lipstick inside her hand. Alayna was in her early twenties with potential untapped, but it in no way meant she had the seriousness of the CEO's that visited her father's office.
"Carefully Alayna."
There it was, that caring voice always looking out for her. Like a glass of warm honey milk, topped with nuts. Her favorite sound — the call of her name from her father's mouth. It more than anything kept her grounded, and gave her a sense of belonging. That she too, could return to someone after the world pushed her away.
"Don't be a – spoilsport dad!" She said.
The breathlessness of it coupled with the giggles brought him relief, that she was alright.
