People were looking

From various angles they were piercing their judging gazes

No faces were distinguishable, nor were they any specific color or gender

Speaking facts, they were anomalous

And slowly they faded, disappearing behind tons of greyish fogs of suffocating smoke

Dashes of singular memories ran past, jaunting away from complications that might arise

All of the sudden, the speedy trains of recollection stopped their tracks, dispatching in reverse instead

Coldness and weariness came to play until...

The sound of crackling, crispy potato chips resurfaced from my neck muscles the moment I woke up. Nightmares came for me in similar fonts, every time the terrible dream carried a new reason with the same ending.

I groaningly sighed my morning breath out, dried and slimy saliva running down my lips as I felt the vinyl floor right underneath my aching cheek.

Colors of yellow and orange light from the late winter sun intruded my sleeping chamber, the Windy City showing up in their brightest form possible. 

Mornings however, they are worthless when you are not quite the dawn person. Helping myself to sit upright, half of my body frame was still covered by the fluffy heather purple duvet. 

Both of my hands rubbed my closed eyeballs a couple of times to make my eye vision clearer, desperately failing because of my congenital bad eyesight. I slapped my left hand behind me to find my golden-framed glasses within a second of searching on the side table. 

Setting them steady on my nose bridge to peek around my bedroom, I raised my hand into a fist to gentle give myself some jabs the side temples to prevent a headache which I certainly did not need.

Pictures that bore happiness were left aesthetically in frames, lingering a nostalgic feeling from my childhood and teenage years. Nevertheless, was it completely girly to own those Usher's Confession, One Direction's Take Me Home and Big Time Rush posters on my beloved wall? 

Hell no, I still listen religiously to every single one of these artists.

My almighty father is on the verge of painting staining black ink on them if I did not listen to him. His ultimate solution, getting a real husband. Not speaking about a boyfriend here, but straight into marriage life as if he will not interrogate that unfortunate thing until they run away.

Speaking of the devil...

A couple of days ago, I had asked my typical Indian parent for aid, which is as you might like to know a life-threatening action.

With my slender fingers fiddling with one another, I cried my complain towards the seemingly ignorant one in the room. 'My lovely dad, is there any possibility for you to buy me a slightly bigger bed? I keep falling and rolling off the edge and...'

Bringing his reading glasses with no frames to the tip of his nose, he sternly glared at me from above those ridges as I felt the instant letdown in his intriguing dark eyes. 'Oh, do you even hear yourself talking? I, me, main, chup (I, silent)! Are you not learning anything from reciting the Bhagwad Gita (A sacred scripture in Hinduism)? Egoism is not a norm in this house Amaya.'

You might think that my father would stop at this point.

Lucky me, that is not how it works in a Desi household. 'I will kick you butt out if you keep asking me the same question repeatedly. Or better, get married to a rich guy who will buy you everything you wish. Like if you do not earn yourself a decent amount of money, Besides, a big bed like that will not fit in your room. And what else? YOU SHOULD DO THE DISHES SOMETIMES! LEARN MANNERS FROM YOUR BROTHER! AND...'

My ears could not find the quaking frequency in which he was talking in anymore as the raging words just flew by, in and out of my hearing. I just walked away, finding a new purpose of life like I always do.

Please, do not get my father wrong. Maybe being a respected attorney at Cook County State's Attorney's Office made him more likely to be strict.

Overseeing the situation that the senior lawyer has been in for over the past decade would most likely earn him an award for the best, sweetest and considered person existing.

Mom had passed away when I was around seven years old, leaving me with my older brother and dad alone in this damned world. The only thing that I am aware of is that her prolonged battle with a rare disease had no medicine or treatment developed at that time.

Deep down I know that my father does not want me to presume anything but whenever my dad had set his dark eyes on me, he somehow tend to show the same love-filled gaze that you can catch sight of in the whimsical wedding pictures of them.

I do look a lot like my mother. Dad always subtly mentions this psychical trait of mine.

Apparently, the last words what mom said to him were "Let Abhimanyu choose his own path as he will do his utter best in whatever field no matter what. The one who will need the wisest advice is our dear Amaya."

As if she could foresee the doomed future. 4 years ago, that was when I needed my motherly parent the most...

A new day, a new shot of rare chances, a new day to break those difficult obstacles. 

My wobbly legs had me standing up and walking out of the bedroom, shoving myself into our bathroom which was on the exact opposite side and fortunately empty. The warmth of the heater is making the cleaning space feel like a relaxing sauna.

The reflection of the mirror that I met showed an opulent, brown-skinned girl with dark brown hair that draped down in two knitted long braids. A natural beauty as I could confidently mention myself.

Warmly light brown eyes. The same eyes and hue that I inherited from my beautiful mom.

Closing the bathroom door to prevent any other species to disturb my routine with the silverly lock, I brushed my teeth rapidly, took my cartoony pajamas off my body and turned the shower on for a precious lone moment. After every measure was taken, making my way towards my sleeping room in a white bathrobe did come in a rapid speed as I was running late as usual.

Let's see what we shall wear today. Formal, Casual, Trendy, Sporty, Glossy, Glittery...Chanel? A two-piece lilac tweed top and long skirt set it is. I picked a fleeced panty from the other drawer and put everything on in the fastest way possible.

I took a few swirls and twirls in front of the full-length mirror until I was satisfied with my outfit. My daily job required an elegant slash practical look, making sure that I always meet the conditions.

Clipping my dark brown hair out of the beige claw to let its strands fall down on one shoulder, I put my contact lenses in while simultaneously deciding to put a bare minimum of makeup on my face.

To be honest, I never liked the feeling of makeup in general with the chemicals breaking out my face in the process, a tinted lip balm was mostly what I opted for on busy days. Mascara does not dare to come even near my face. Those gifted genes gave me dark long eyelashes and the desired long height for most women.

Many people tried to scout me for their modeling gigs, but I always declined the offer to do so. The passion was not there for it to make it my career path, even though I am making a living from the same industry.

My light brown eyes stayed on the photos beside the wall mirror, seeing an old picture of my parents on their honeymoon in Venice. My mother had her thin arms draped around my father's shoulders as they smiled like it is nobody's business. 

Obviously staged as Dad told me the story behind this photo. Mom was apparently not a fan of PDA (Public Display Affection), which was forced in this picture because of the photographer. 

Still, they could have been brilliant celebrities with those eye-blinding visuals.

My rosy lips unconsciously creeped up into a bright smile thinking about these unusual love birds, wandering towards the next photo which instantly changed the course of mood. 

It was a polaroid of two teenage boys with me in the middle, having their arms clanged over each others' shoulders as they had won the football competition in that particular year. I stood awkwardly in between, gritting a forced smile out while I held my left hand up in a peace-sign.

One boy was my older brother and the other guy... I cannot even think aloud about that jerk, let alone mentioning his name.

Why did I not take that picture out of the frame? Maybe I was too lazy, or I did not want to let Dad think that something happened between them. The middle-aged man is good at finding out about secrets anyway.

Unfortunately, little did I know that he would be my worst, upcoming nightmare...

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Funny how I thought I would not change a lot and ended up changing the whole ass chapter ;-)

But yeah, here is the preview and how the storm is going to come asap

About voting, kindly do so as it will bring my book higher up in the rankings and motivate me to write better stuff. I literally hate myself if the part that I wrote is not to my expectations just because I rushed it or something.

Okay enough about the emotional stuff, who's watching "Queen of Tears"? Kim Soohyun is so freaking cute lmao and Kim Jiwon is such a great actress <33333

Love,

dahliainjeolmi01