Imaginary Boyfriend

Chapter 1: Terrible, Terrible News

            "You're getting married!"

            I stiffened on the couch that I had previously been lounging on, tearing my attention away from the TV to look at my parents.

            My gaze flitted back and forth between my mother and father, who both had huge smiles plastered to their faces and eyes bright with excitement. Personally, I thought the inevitable had finally happened—they had gone insane.

            Must be old age, I guess.

            "No, I'm not," I told them, bewildered.

            "You're getting married!" Mum repeated.

            Great, so now their hearing was impaired too.

            Was it safe for them to be living alone? I suddenly noticed a pair of scissors on the small wooden table in front of us so I carefully reached out and slid the potentially lethal object away. They had obviously lost the plot—there was no way I was letting them near any sharp objects.

            "Mum, Dad," I said softly. "I'm not getting married."

            Dad's smile widened. "Yes you are!"

            I resisted the urge to slap my forehead.

            "How can I be getting married?" I asked them, probably looking as puzzled as I felt. "I'm not even dating anyone."

            "You're not even in a serious relationship," Dad pointed out in a disapproving tone.

            Ugh. This certainly wasn't the first time that my father had mentioned that. Ever since I left university, both him and Mum had been nagging me to go and make them some grandchildren.

            Most dads threaten to kill their daughter's boyfriends if they ever hurt her. Mine? Mine would welcome him with open arms and tell him—creepily—that he was looking forward to the wedding.

            "Exactly!" I cried out, jabbing a finger in his direction. "I'm not! So how on earth could I be getting married?"

            "Katrina," my mum said, "trust us. You are."

            My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But if I was getting married, don't you I would be telling you?"

            "Not if you're getting an arranged marriage!"

            I stopped breathing. No. Not those words! Those words were the dreaded words—the word that no Indian girl in her right mind ever wants to hear in her life. I stared at my parents in horror, my mouth wide open.

            "Isn't this great?" said Mum excitedly, oblivious to my dread. She clasped my hands in hers, tears in her eyes.

            Kill me. Kill me now.

            Instead of answering, I wrenched my hands out of hers and stalked into the kitchen. Anger boiled up inside me and I just needed to calm down before I said something that I would regret.

            I ran a hand through my raven black hair and sighed when Mum called my name.

            Whirling around, I re-entered the room and grabbed my purse.

            "I'm leaving," was the only thing I could force out of my mouth.

            "Kat, what's wrong?" my father asked worriedly.

            His tone tugged at my heart strings, causing me to glance up at him. It was a rookie mistake, seeing as his big brown eyes were wide and full of tears. My muscles froze—Dad never cried.

            "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "But the answer is no. I refuse to be married off to a stranger and that is final."

            "Katrina," Mum sighed. "You're twenty-six and single. If we don't set you up, who knows when you'll finally settle down?"

            Uh-oh. Mum doing maths is never a good sign.

            "We already have a guy. His name is Raj and—"

            "No."

            "But—"

            "Nope."

            "Please, Kat, we just want you to be happy."

            "You don't get it, do you?" I said, laughing in disbelief. "I am happy. I don't need a guy in my life. The only thing that's making me unhappy is you."

            That stopped them in their tracks.

            Before they could get another word in, I was out of there. Fishing inside my pocket, I scooped out my car keys and unlocked the door to my car. I ignored them calling my name and sat in my car, putting the keys into ignition.

            In no time I was on the road, going slightly above the speed limit in my haste to get home. Driving in silence did get me thinking though.

            It had been a while since I dated and, even though I couldn't admit it in front of my family, some of what they had said was true. Being in a relationship would make me happy, because I wanted to have the love that my parents had. But I wanted it to be natural, not forced like an arranged marriage.

            At that moment, I almost felt like pulling over and banging my head against the steering wheel.

            Why must parents be so controlling? 

____________________________________________

I'm really sorry if anyone is offended by this. Obviously, not all Indian parents are like this and I'm not trying to imply that they are. I am Indian myself and my parents are completely laid back about marriage. :) 

Also, there's a pic of Katrina :)