Free

5. Alone

Sadie

There's this magnificent orange flower patch that grows right outside my house. At 4 pm it would get just the perfect amount of sun and it's my favorite part of the exterior. I would see it every day coming back home from school and it would bring me joy knowing it's always there, waiting for me. Constant. Soaking up the beautiful light rays and catching the occasional rain. I was admiring it as we were loading up the car on our way to church.

Attending mass on Sundays is almost mandatory for everyone in the town. I was raised very religiously as everyone else in the town. We were taught at a young age that marriage was reserved strictly for a man and a woman, and was essential for everyone to participate in. I simply can't help but let my mind wander. I'm not here to bash Christianity or say it's all a joke, but I only really attend for my parents. God forbid I ever told them about my doubts, they'd shun me. It's just hard for me to believe that everything in the universe is just made that simple. To always trust God. I believe that some things are just out of his hands. I believe we choose our own destiny.

Unfortunately, we are all taught to conform to society's beliefs so my opinions don't matter.

On the somewhat peaceful drive down the familiar back road we'd always take, my father insists on prying about school and asking about my grades. When I tell him that they're only mediocre, he is not impressed. In fact, he almost has a hernia at the mention of me having a 75 in Biology.

"You know Sadie, your father and I have been putting some thought into this and we figured since you're going to be 18 soon, maybe it's time to start looking for potential fiancés." Mother mentioned to me nonchalantly.

Suddenly the car became so small. It felt like my throat was closing in and I could barely swallow. It hit me that I'm a tiny spec in the never-ending cycle of the marriage system. Nothing but a fraction of the population, serving no purpose whatsoever. My eyes almost went blurry from the lack of oxygen to my brain.

When the car finally came to a halt, I stumbled out of the vehicle and out into the fresh air. Despite my frazzled behavior, the sun was gleaming and the birds were chirping as if nothing was wrong. I had trouble breathing for a minute which really alarmed my mother. 

"Are you alright Sadie?" she asked, oblivious to the reason I freaked out. "I'm fine."

"Alright, then we must hurry to get a good spot." she rushed me inside the church and I followed close behind.

We came in only to find that most of the seats were already filled up so we had to settle for a bench at the back of the hall, which my father was very displeased about.

I had sat down with my family and adjusted my black, knee-length skirt, customary attire for attending mass. The empty seat next to me got filled by someone and not just someone but a boy. I realize soon enough that it's the guy I bumped into and when I do, a giant pit in my stomach forms. He seems to reciprocate this feeling when he notices that it's me sitting next to him and not a stranger. 

My mother quickly figures it out and makes it obvious that she's unhappy seeing her daughter sitting so close to a boy. She's so concerned that she asks my father to switch seats with me, earning a very frightened and nervous look from the boy.

Whilst we were waiting I couldn't help but notice him pull out a black sketchbook, with pages filled with countless doodles and drawings. Mostly of nature, and things such as trees or fields. No people, just landscapes. I watched him begin another sketch on a blank page before my mother abruptly nudged my shoulder, alerting me to focus my attention elsewhere.

For some reason though, I can't erase the image of his steady hands. The curve of his knuckles and the poise of his fingers as he held the charcoal pencil. His wrists moved delicately to create lines and shapes on the paper. His arms flexed ever so slightly and the veins on his arm became exposed. It's strange that I find beauty in that, the human body that is, but I do. And his is exceptionally stunning.

~

After the service, I followed behind both of my parents as they discussed and argued their opinions on the mass we just attended. I could almost get lost in the insane wave of people as I was exiting the church hall with them. I was just thinking to myself and about where I am in this moment in time. Though I was surrounded by all of these people, I've never felt more alone. I always think it's not me, it's my soul that's lonely. It's wandering the earth searching desperately for another soul to connect with. I wonder if it ever will.

I feel a sudden tap on my shoulder and instantly snap my head back. "We meet again." The boy's deep voice stands out amongst the crowd full of chatter and conversation. "I'm sorry, I have to go." I simply dismiss him, seeing as the situation we are in is very public and I can't risk bringing attention to us. I pick up my pace and try to catch up with my family but I hear him call out for me.

I notice my parents turn back so I grab him quickly by the wrist and pull him into another dark hallway, isolated from the crowd and away from peering eyes. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"I want to talk you."

"Well we can't be seen together, I have to go."

"I know we can't but could you just-"

I don't even give him the chance to finish his sentence before I rush out of the hall and outside to where my family awaits me, impatiently. "Where were you?" Father asks sternly.

"Sorry, I got lost."

~

We were all in the kitchen, prepping for dinner and I was sitting on the island, right in the middle, on one of the stools. Mother was pulling out some forks and knives while father was opening a bottle of wine. "So that boy at the service today, did you see how close he was sitting with Sadie?" she asks, I assume the question is aimed at my father. I sat quietly biting my tongue hoping she wouldn't ask me anything.

"And how about those hideous sketches he was drawing? Didn't his parents teach him to have good taste." Father added, sourly.

I just sat dangling my feet off the stool, thinking back to the sketches.

I thought they were pretty good.