Painting Life

S i x t e e n

Sorry for the terrible chapter.

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Sixteen | Failure.

D a n i y a: 

There were times in life when you tried to convince your self that everything would be alright though you had that nagging feeling - tugging at your fragile heart strings - that it was never going to be okay because the pain was too much to bear. 

It was like getting a small injury, but not realizing how serious it was until the impact hit you hard and the ache became impossible to ignore. 

When Haris left the room, I did cry, my thoughts swirling round and round until I finally caved in to my book, lying on the bed side. It was my only escape and for those precious moments in which I read; I felt like everything was going to be just fine even though my mind half yelled at me for thinking so. 

I ignored it, telling myself that it was nonsense. I was strong enough to handle being turned down by someone. 

But when I saw Haris the next morning, I felt nuaseous and I was afraid that I would puke and cry simultaneously. I didn't want to do that; it would just give him the knowledge that he had the power to hurt me by a single flick of his finger. 

He was standing in the kitchen, making himself an omelette. His brown hair were wet and matted on his forehead - but not in a bad way. His blue eyes stood out against his tanned skin and even though he was just average looking, to me, he was the epitome of beauty, both from in and out. 

I looked away guility, my cheeks turning crimson. I didn't want to get caught staring; I had already embarrassed myself in front of him by confessing my undying love. It was so pathetic that I wanted to go hide behind the first thing I could see. 

I felt exposed. 

I was about to turn away, relieved that he hadn't noticed my presence when he turned around and looked at me, with the kind, questioning look of his, "Salam, Daniya. Aren't you going to eat?"

"Walaikum'assalam," I muttered, almost unable to hear my own sound over the loud thudding of my heart. I was annoyed by the way my whole body, brain, included, reacted to his presence. 

He looked amused when I stared at my feet and stayed silent, "I asked you a question." 

"Of course, I'll eat. Isn't it obvious?" I retorted snappily, my insides wavering and the lump in my throat growing steadily bigger by every passing moment. 

He chuckled, "Well, would you like me to a make an omelette for you?" 

"No, I'll just eat some biscuits or something," I mumbled.

"But you've been eating them for days," He protested. "You do realize that they have glucose in them and there's a research that says that they might jam your veins if you eat them too much or something like-" 

"Cut the crap, Haris." I said heatedly, suddenly losing it. He was acting like everything was normal, like it hadn't even happened. Whether he liked it or not, things were going to change between us. 

If he thought acting normal would work, then he was in the wrong. Everytime he'd talk to me, I would be reminded of the ache in my chest - the stupid urge to cry whenever I thought about him. 

I had been rebuffed by him. But then, I had been treading on dangerous grounds. I was bound to be hurt at some time. 

"What?" He asked and suddenly I wanted to hit him hard because he was being so, so stupid and he didn't even realize it. 

"You rejected me," I said slowly, sadly because I didn't want those words to come out of my mouth, ever. "Don't you remember?" 

"But I didn't say anything," He said. 

"Do you think I am dense?" I all but shouted at him. "I know you don't like or love me and honestly, I don't understand why I do either." 

"But I-" He started, pity in his eyes.

"Don't look at me with pity, you little piece of shit," I roared. 

 "Oh, I.." He fidgeted. "I'll just go." 

"Good," I snapped, "Get your butt out of my life. It was better without you anyway."  

"Oh," He said again, looking hurt and went before I could utter another reply. 

As I watched him, walking away from me, I wished that I could swim because I swore that I was drowing and there was no lifeguard, no one who could pull me back up, unless God wanted to save me. 

My heart was sinking, along with me. I hadn't expected it to hit me this hard, to the point where I could hardly breathe and everytime I tried to think, I thought about him and his silent rejection and the shock on his face and the sympathy afterwards because he could never return my love. 

And suddenly, I was jealous of the girl he would love in the near future and I wondered if she would be nice and popular and friendly; all the things that I was not. And I wondered if that was why he didn't love me, because of my not-so-subtle flaws and my unpopularity. 

Because I was more flawed than the average and more broken than the average, all alone in this world. 

No one had ever told me that I was loveable and amazing. Simply, because I was not. 

I couldn't be invincible. Anyone could break my fragile walls. 

The only solution to my whole problem was to accept the fact that I was no more better than an empty packet of cheerios, lying on the street, forgotten and alone.

:::

Dinner was awkward. It was as if the tension between Haris and I had somehow, affected the whole environment of the house. 

But there was something more, I knew it. Was someone dying? Did something happen to someone? 

A thousand possibilities marred my thoughts. My eyes shifted to the door and I wondered what would happen if I just ran away and left every single worry I had, behind. Maybe I would get a second chance at life then. 

"Um, Daniya?" Mother said cautiously. 

"Yeah?" 

"I am afraid we have some bad news," Daddy sighed, putting his fork down. I wanted to yell at him and at everyone else because it was so unfair. 

My fall was never ending. I hadn't reached the cold, hard ground when Haris refused me. No, I would fall and fall because that was what always seemed to be happening. Everytime I tried to progress, I just ended up one step backward, rather than forward. 

The grief was never going to end. 

"What is it?" I asked, trying to act like his words didn't faze me but I knew it showed and what jarred me even more, was the fact that Haris was inconviniently witnessing it; another one of my weak moments at display. 

The circle didn't end. It wouldn't, until he was far, far away. 

"You didn't get accepted in to Yale." 

These were the last words I had expected to hear and the only thought that occupied my mind was that I was a failure and even people who didn't know me, were unwilling to take me. 

Letting out a small sob, I ran away, out of the door, ignoring Father's footsteps behind me and Mother's wrenched cry for me to come back. 

I was a failure. 

Why would they even want me? Why would anyone want me?