Blossom

03

 Z A R A H P O V

Nothing was exceptional today. Everything was normal. Not that I mind. Same old getting up and getting ready. I was inside the school café with Mariam.

I don't have anything interesting in my life. Which I was okay with. Getting too much attention from people or too much drama in a person's life can ruin a person's life without even knowing themselves that.

Everyone has a problem. They like to handle it in different ways. Some may want to talk to an adult and get advice. While others just keep the issues deep down in their heart, which causes depression.

Depression is the unseen, unheard, silent killer. It's a pain that's too much to cope with, too hard to deal with, and so misunderstood. You can't escape it no matter how hard you try because it follows you around like a black shadow that's on the inside, eating you.

I didn't know how to talk about this depression that I have. Not that my sister would listen or anything. I feel uncomfortable sharing feelings with others.

The cause of that was my father's death, which played a significant role in this depression—nothing else. After my father's death, all my emotions are gone. It felt as if my heart was squeezed to death by a monster's large hands.

Even though it has been so many years, I still couldn't get it out of my head. My relationship with my father was like a relationship with my best friend.

I could share every problem with him. I could cry my eyes out on his shoulder as he stroked my hair to calm me down. He would wipe away my tears. He made sure that nobody would hurt me or make my eyes filled with tears.

Father always said, "I love you." He was one of those fun parents who spun me around by my arms until I was dizzy. He did buy me anything I ever wanted or dance with me to rock 'n' roll. He loved me more than his money. Right after coming from work, he would always come to my room first to check on me.

Every Night he would kiss my forehead. But now, he is not there to kiss my forehead and say, "Love you, my sweet little angel. I will always love you, no matter what happens. Daddy is here with you. Always". Nobody is there to tell me how beautiful I am anymore. He isn't there anymore to brush my hair and make me look like a princess or teach me how to play a sport.

There is not a soul in my body. The soul of happiness and joy wholly banished. I would act as if I was happy, but inside I wasn't at all.

I don't know what to do. I prayed to Allah so many times about it. Now I just have to put all my trust in Allah and wait for messages or sign.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mariam, snapping her finger in front of my face. 

"What's wrong? I have been talking to you, and you didn't even listen. Are you okay?" Mariam asked, popping her gum.

"Sorry. Just thinking," I sigh.

"About dad's death, again." Mariam grabbed my hands and gave a little squeeze.

"Mhu. I can't get rid of it," I mumbled.

"You can. You just have to open up to someone and talk about it. When you have a heavyweight on your chest, it's best to talk to someone," She softly spoke.

"Well, you know that I don't like to talk about my feelings with people," I took a sip from my coffee cup.

"That's why you need a man," Mariam winked.

"No, I don't. And besides, I don't like to talk to boys. They are weird," I gagged in disgust. 

"Like-"

"Well, hello, my beautiful fiancé," walked in no other than Ayan, himself.

"Fiance?" We looked at each other in confusion.

"Well yeah. Zarah is my soon to be wife," Ayan smiled, taking a seat across from them.

"In your dream boy," I scoffed, shaking my head.

"I have dreamed, but now it's coming to reality," He smirked. 

"Mariam, you wanna get out of here? I am about to leave. It's getting late," I looked at my watch.

"Yeah, let's go. I can't stand being in the same room as him," Mariam gave Ayan a dirty look.

Not long enough, we arrived home. I looked through my bag for the keys while Mariam just chewed on her gum, scrolling through whatever she was doing on her phone. Probably through i********:.

"Do you have the keys?" I asked her not finding them. 

"Nah," Mariam answered.

"I can't seem to find the keys," I muttered.

"Well, look in your jeans pocket," Mariam suggested.

I checkered my pocket and took my keys out. I thanked Mariam.

"Salem, mom. We are home," I said, entering the house.

Mariam walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple. She started to crunch on in. I walked to the fridge and grabbed a cold water bottle.

"Isn't mom suppose to be home today?" Mariam questioned, looking around for her. 

"Yes. It looks like her boss is holding her back again," I sigh.

"I feel like beating her boss up so badly. Who does that man think he is?!" Mariam threw the apple away in the trash can.

"After all, he is the boss," I laughed.

"A stupid one," Mariam added.

All of a sudden, I heard a noise-the noise of people talking. Mariam raised her eyebrow at me.

Who could it be?

I walked to the living room as Mariam followed behind me. When we walked in, I saw one male and one female talking to mom.

"Salam," I greeted.

"Walaikum salam," they answered.

The men looked in his mid 40's while the women look at her 30's. He was wearing a suit. She dressed up all professionally; he looked like the boss of a big company—a busy man. The woman is wearing a dress. She looked quite beautiful, especially with makeup on. She looked like one of those Desi aunties.

"Come. Sit my child," mom patted the seat next to her.

We took a seat quickly. "These two are my daughter. That's Mariam, and this is my daughter, Zarah," mom introduced.

"Assalam-o-Alaikum" I smiled.

"Walaikum salam," the old men answered my greeting. 

"Mariam is older than Zarah by 2 minutes. But they don't let that come in between the two," Her mom patted my back.

"What do you want to be, Zara," the women questioned.

"I want to become a nurse," I replied.

"Why? What's the reason?" she asked again.

"I want to help people. I want to save lives," I answered honestly.

"Mashallah, you have a beautiful daughter," the men commented.

I didn't understand what's going on. Why are they talking about me and not Mariam? I was a bit confused. I don't want to ask now because it would sound rude. So I decided to ask mom later.

"Rehana, I like your daughter. She is beautiful and has a good manner. My son has chosen a perfect wife for him. On Wednesday, we are going to come over; we will be sure to bring in our son and then finalize the date," the men spoke with a smile.

"Alhumdulillah," Rehana smiled. I looked at Mariam with shock.

Did I hear, right? Am I getting married? Or is Mariam getting married? Who were these men talking about?

Nothing was making sense to me. We said goodbye to the guests. Mom closed the door, and she had a big smile on her face. I never saw mom this happy in my life due to my father's death.

"Mom, What is going on?" Mariam asked suspiciously.

"How silly of me? They came to ask Zara's hand in marriage," mom answered. 

"What?!" we screamed.