Almost Paradise

//Chapter 2//

Chapter Aesthetics: 

  🌸🌸🌸  

Running away always held an almost intoxicating appeal to me. Just thinking about running, with no destination in mind, far away from everything I've ever known gives me an adrenaline rush.

But like most intoxicating and desirable things, running away was something I forbid myself to do. Sure, I talked about it, thought about it, dreamed about it. But I knew I'd never actually do it.

And so I sit helplessly and pathetically alone, on my neat white bed that my parents picked out for me when I was twelve, replaying the 'conversation' I had with Seid freaking Mulfar for the one thousandth time in the past twenty four hours.

He seemed legit enough. But what annoyed me was his lack of response and reaction to my confession. Can you really spot a girl whose parents are marrying her off to a stranger from miles away?

If so- boy was I dreading going to school.

"Amira are you ready?" my mom walks in, makes her way to my closet and picks out my outfit for the day as she usually did to make sure I knew that she called the shots- in every aspect of my life. "Today's the big day," she gushed, her hazel eyes alight.

Graduation day. A normal student would be happy- ecstatic. But not me, I dreaded it. The whole idea of moving on, growing up had me nearing hysterics. I guess you could say I wasn't the sort of person who welcomed change. Things weren't all that great at the best of times but I loved it regardless because it was all I'd ever known. I loved the familiarity.

"Do you think you can come straight home with us today? We still have to finish our discussion from last night," she continued as she looks for pumps to match my blue dress.

I didn't reply and she, as per usual, takes my silence as an affirmative.

I changed quickly, piled my hair up onto my head in a bun, put on some lip balm and headed downstairs- all the while trying to ignore the shortness of the dress my mom picked out.

"There she is," I am greeted by my step dad who stood to give  me a cold hug.

After a silent- on my part, and nauseatingly cheerful, on my parent's part- breakfast I headed out into the summer day to walk to my school.

Of course a certain somebody is all that I think about.

Would he remember? Of course not. I don't have a memorable face at all, besides we hardly run in the same social circles.

Before entering the building I popped a mint into my mouth, one must always be prepared. I couldn't deny that there was a part of me that was hoping he'd remember- notice me, talk to me but as soon as I walked into the throng of students, all hope was dashed out of my mind.

      🌸🌸🌸

I saw him a total of four times, from afar. It was hard to miss him and his friends- they were everywhere. But of course I didn't walk up to him or anything. Just watched like a stalker.

I have no idea where this sudden infatuation came from- not that I was infatuated. It was more of an obsession- a need to figure him out.

"Amy," A squeak from behind me breaks me out of my reverie and I spin around to find Scarlet, my best and only friend here at Weldwidge.

"Hey Scar," We give each other once overs and I nodded approvingly whereas she frowned.

"What?" I asked self consciously.

In response she took out the pin holding my hair in a bun, stroked her fingers through it, took out her red lipstick from her bag and applied it evenly on my lips.

"There," she said and grabbed my hand "Now lets go meet people"

The thing with Scarlet is that she is the complete opposite of me. I never talk to strangers unless they are concierges or cashiers, whereas Scarlet talks to everybody. And by everybody I mean everybody. And thus she had countless numbers of friends but that never got in the way of our friendship. And being friends with someone so outgoing could have its drawbacks such as now- Scarlet talks and talks and talks while I stand by her side- shameful of the fact that I don't remember some of these people's names despite the fact that we went to the same school for four years.

The graduation ceremony starts shortly- thankfully and we all make our way to the stage. I spot my parents, sitting alone. My mom wearing her perpetual scowl.

I ignored her burning gaze, she's probably upset that I let my hair down, instead I focus on Principal Spencer who stands at the pedestal, calling out the graduates' names.

I try not to watch as obviously as all the other girls as Seid goes up to get his diploma, but it's hard. I wonder if he has any idea so many girls are pining after him. Probably does.

And shortly it's my turn.

And of course, being me, I have to trip on the principal's microphone wire and fall flat on my face in front of half of the town.

There were laughs, gasps, squeals. But ignoring all of them and trying my hardest to look normal despite my tomato red face I walk forward, get my diploma and sit back down. I was incapable of not embarrassing myself in one way or the other.

🌸🌸🌸

Sitting with my hands in my lap, my eyes trained on the wooden floor, I wished the graduation ceremony had never ended.

"As I was saying, you're an adult now. A Muslim woman and like myself, your grandmother and countless women before her, it's time you are wedded off." My mother ended her practiced speech and looked at me, waiting for an answer.

"What about college?" I asked, my voice weak.

"Well, of course the wedding will take place after you've graduated. We just need to seal the deal right now."

A deal. That's all that this was. And I was a liability. But like the weak willed girl that I am, I don't argue with my mother knowing full well that nothing will come out of it.

One simply did not argue with my mother.

"He's a great young man. The family is both religious and prestigious.."

She continued, oblivious to the fact that I didn't give two shits about my future husband's family. 

Whoever he was.

"It's only right Amira, no matter how exposed you are, in the end you're a Muslim first and it is my duty as a mother to get you married before I die," I tuned in to her saying and internally scoffed.

I had never seen my mother pray. She filled my wardrobe with clothes I hadn't seen any Muslim woman wearing and here she was talking as though religion was always her first priority when I knew that social reputation was more important to her than anything.

Getting up I head to the stairs, eager to be out of my mother's company.

"Oh and Amira, the boy's family are coming over for dinner tonight," she said halting me on the last step, "Do wear something nice."