The Wishing Flower

Chapter 15

I stood in front of the mirror contemplating whether the shirt I was wearing looked good on me. The top was white chiffon with pink and orange flowers with a lace-up collar. I twirled around in the mirror, but I realized the shirt made me look lumpy in all the wrong places. What was I worrying about anyways? I was only going to see Adam. I took off the blouse and threw on my black oversized hoodie. I looked again in the mirror. This looked much better, even though it was the same thing I wore every day. Satisfied, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. However, as I put on my shoes and took a final look in the mirror I felt that my usual outfit wouldn't cut it.

I ran back to my closet and looked through my clothes again. Another black hoodie, a black t-shirt, a black cardigan. My closet was truly a manifestation of my personality, dark and gloomy. I barely owned any other colored clothes, except for the white blouse that made me look like a frumpy grandma.

Feeling disheartened, I looked down the hallway at Sajal's closet. The closed door loomed in the distance, taunting me for having no nice clothes. Sajal always found a way to look beautiful no matter where she went. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I crept over to her closet. I was afraid to open her closet, but it wasn't just any old closet filled with clothes. The closet was Sajal's , and it was a manifestation of her life. All her clothes had exotic colors and incrite designs that danced around every time you looked inside, much unlike my black closet of death. The scent of jasmine lingered in the threads of all her clothes. Her existence still remained in this house in the patterns of her dresses and the scent of her sweaters, even if she wasn't physically here. However, the thought that her navy blue chadar was still in this house, but she wasn't, pained me.

I passed my hand through all Sajal's clothes, the usually soft fabrics felt like razor blades against my fingertips. I pulled out a wooly beige sweater and noticed little threads peeking out from the ends of the cuffs. I pulled on the string and the sweater unraveled even further. I pushed the sweater right back into the closer. Just like the beige pull over, the very fabric of my sister's existence was coming apart at the seams.

I glanced at my watch, to check on the times. I was late, I was already supposed to have met Adam four minutes ago. I quickly grabbed the first thing I could lay my hands on from Sajal's closet and dashed to the hallway. I threw on my sneakers and ran all the way to the bus stop, and hopped on without much thought. As I sat down, I felt the heaviness of cloth in my hands. I didn't get to see what I grabbed from the closet, since I was in a rush, but now since I got a chance to look at what I got I realized I was holding Sajal's shawl, the one she wore everyday. The black pashmina wrap was decorated with circle mirrors and silver beadwork, and drenched in the scent of jasmine. I held the shawl to my nose and inhaled the scent. The floral scent filled the bus, as if Sajal were sitting behind me right now. I stuffed the shawl into my bag, I couldn't wear it. I felt as if I was betraying my sister by wearing her favorite shawl. I couldn't bring myself to use her clothes as if she didn't exist.

I saw my stop coming up and hopped off the bus. I was already half an hour late, I wondered if Adam would still be waiting for me at this point. I imagined him sitting at the table all by himself, bouncing around his legs restlessly and checking his phone as he waited for me to come. I almost laughed at the thought of poor Adam, pathetically sitting eating dinner for two by himself, because that's something I would do.

"Reservation under Adam" I inquired under the front desk. I felt that the waitress looked at me funny, maybe she wondered why I left my date all alone for that long, even though this wasn't really a date.. The waitress brought me inside, and I recognized Adam in the distance, but he didn't look shaky and distraught, instead he was smiling and talking. Was there someone sitting with him at the table?