Pretty Broken

Chapter 1

My father passed away on my 17th birthday. It was a dark dark day. Death, in the moment, isn't as horrible as people think, but it makes it so you don't know what to do next. Everything after death is what makes an individual helpless. I've learned grief is like the wind. It'll be soft and steady somedays, and other days it'll be so overwhelmingly intense you can't move. The wind eventually hit, that he wouldn't see me graduate high school or get to dance with me at my wedding or see my future kids. Thinking about the future is what causes me to breakdown, but life doesn't care about hardship, it just keeps going.

Here I am now. Lost in my thoughts, lying in bed, alone. Thinking about it, I don't have anyone. I'm in a room by myself, thinking to myself, about how my life got so messed up.

My alarm goes off and I reluctantly pull myself out of bed. I drag myself to my closet and find a pair of ripped jeans and a cardigan to throw over my tank top. I quickly brush my teeth, grab my bag and make my way down the stairs so I can go to class.

It's a sunny but chilly day. I turn my music on and start walking. There are a few people around me that are also walking to class. My eyes hone in on the friends walking together and couples walking hand in hand, and I start analyzing. 2 years ago, I had a close group of friends that I would also be walking with. I would watch cute boys, trying to catch their attention. I would be happy, but here I am, walking, alone. I raise the volume of my music trying to drain out the conversation, and continue to walk to class.

...

I'm back home. University isn't too far from home. It's an hour drive, so home is quite accessible. Sometimes I appreciate the fact that I'm close to home, but today I'm not really feeling that sense of appreciation. Being in my dorm all alone provides an escape. A lonely escape but an escape nonetheless.

My mom starts screaming, "Why aren't you ready for church? You only ever come home some weekends, and you can't even make time to go to church? I wonder what nonsense you do when you're at school... Get your ass out of bed and get ready."

I stare at her. She's crazy. I'm not religious. I'm spiritual. There's a difference.

"Now!"

I get up and start getting ready. I put on a traditional shalwar kurta. It's black with beautiful beading detail. I leave my brown wavy hair natural and pin the front back. Quickly, I put some mascara on and rush out to my car. I drive to my church, which is literally 3 minutes away, and park in the lot. I decide I'm going to go in late, because I don't really care for the different prayers or services or whatever. Time passes quickly, and I make my way in.

I step in and am drowned in a sea of familiar faces. I stopped coming to the Church after my dad because it felt like everyone looked at me with pity. Like there was a sign pointing to me flashing 'girl with the dead dad.' It honestly felt burdensome to attend the prayers every day. Especially when I didn't care for it that much. The community my religion provides is phenomenal and incomparable, but after my dad I just wanted to be left alone. I was walking towards the back of the building, where there was a wall of shelves where everyone would take off their shoes. The shelves were already 65 percent filled. I took off my flats and turned around, and that is when I saw him.

He was a face I didn't recognize. I've been going to this specific church for about 16 years and I had never seen him before. He was a sight. He was tall and a little skinny. His hair was curly and very attractive. He had a little facial hair and hooded eyes. I stared at him for a about 6 or 7 seconds, before realizing I was being ridiculous. I walked inside and made my way to an open spot on the floor. I sat on the carpet and droned out whatever was going on, and got lost in my chaotic mind. His face was ingrained in my brain and wasn't leaving no matter how hard I tried to shake it out. He looked so appealing to me and I had no idea why. I hadn't felt this way ever. He was enchantingly captivating and I wanted to know him more than I think I've ever wanted anything. I wrote off this weird longing for this stranger as simply attraction, and got up to make my way to the lobby.