It was late summer the first time I saw her. She was beautiful. Her name was Uvae; she had beautiful fire orange hair vibrant green eyes and soft pink lips that were so plump… and I was just that native girl.
I am Ayasha, or little one. I was born Navajo, but my father, the chief said I need to be watched and protected because I have “eyes of green grass” and old mother says that means his line is done after me. Unless I have my future husband take my name. But there is the thing I love girls, not guys.
I once told my father this and he said that we must see old mother at once. She said many young women find others beautiful but it will pass. I was 13 when she said that. I’m 17 now. And all I want is to be with Uvae. I don’t dare tell my father. He has already set up a wedding for me when I turn 20. I just need to talk to HER and I might get lucky with father. If he sees the love I have is real.
I told my friend Jamaica at school about Uvae, and she told me that they go to church together since there is only one Lutheran church in town. Jamaica and I talked for 2 hours.
“She really likes it here but she just got here.” Jamaica told me.
“Yeah I like it here to but I also like her!” I reply
“Ayasha! You don’t even know her!” she says
“And your point is what?” I kind of yell at her.
“Nothing Ayasha, just chill ok? I got to go. Bye.” She hung up the phone.
Later that night was the monthly powwow; nearly the entire town came, including Uvae. Clearly the powers that are want me and her together. Now all I had to do was ball up and talk to her. Wow I am so nervous. Even as I walk up to her I am screaming inside. She is SO beautiful; the purple of her dress brings out the green of her eyes. Then she looks at me! She just caught me staring! Oh my gosh she must think I’m a creeper! But she smiles instead, and starts walking over.
“You’ve been staring at me all night.” She says
“I know.” That is all I can say, I’m so shocked.
“Well why? Do I have a tear in my dress or something?” she asks
“No you’re just so beautiful.” I exclaim. Then I slap my hand over my mouth in horror.
“Oh well thank you. That’s very sweet.” She says back. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me, I’m not mean. And just for the record you are very beautiful to.” She finishes and moves a piece of my black hair away from my face.
“Thank you. I’ve kind of thought you were pretty from the first time I saw you…” I stammer and blush.
“Yeah? And how long ago did you first see me?” She asks.
“Three weeks ago.” I tell her.
“Oh jeepers, that’s a while.” She says looking at her watch. “Oh no I have to go I have a curfew. Here is my number just call me some time and we can hang out.” She writes her number on my hand and walks away.
That night I go home with my heart soaring and sing to the spirits. I walk in the house kiss dad on the head and say good night and go to my room. I don’t even remember changing, I was so happy. Then dad walks in. he looks flustered.
He walks slowly to me, and says “Were you with that girl tonight?”
“Yes, why did something happen!?” I almost yell.
Then he slaps me, right across the face. He has NEVER hurt me. So I am terrified. I step back then stand my ground. “Why did you just hit me?” I yell.
“You are never to see her again! You understand?” he says in a mad voice.
“But why, what is wrong?” I start to crack.
“I will not have my daughter liking girls and being with them in a sexual manner. If you see her again I swear I will do much more then hit you!” he yells and slams the door shut.
I burst in to tears not knowing what to do. I am so upset and ashamed and so many other emotions I can’t even name! Why can’t my father love me the way I am? I shouldn’t have to be something I’m not. Or be someone I’m not, or even love someone I can’t really love. If that’s what he want me to do, I can’t and won’t. I will leave.
I stayed up all night that night and planned out how I’d leave. I would only tell one person and only when the time was right. Id slowly packs so my family would not notice. And then I’d go at night of course because night is my time.
Two weeks later I told Jamaica I was leaving in three nights.
“But why” she exclaimed.
“Because I am not willing to fake who I am…” I tell her with a hug.
