The after affects of losing a parent at a young age can disrupt the workings of a young mind, to levels beyond human perception. To have had a parent walk out on you, when you're barely capable of taking steps on your own is even worse — absolutely devastating not only for the mental health of a person but also for the self confidence. It makes your entire personality revolve around that one larger than life event, where questioning ones self and worth is nothing but the norm. Events, such core events make or break you, blend you into shapes you did not know were possible, force you to lack behind the rest of your age fellows. Alayna Saleem was the result of one such event.

Her mother, a top model of her time fell in love with her father the moment she saw him at a fashion show — his company being in-charge of the security. It was love at first sight, a short affair and a rushed marriage followed suit and within the second year of marriage she came along in the white little carriage, their daughter — someone who was supposed to be the apple of her mother's eye. That, however was a lie. Her mother walked out of the french glass doors on her third birthday with her arms wrapped around the frame of her much younger beau. She had ran after her, like a lost little duck, but the door pinched her nose tight and nothing but tears streamed down her red, hot cheeks.

Ever since then Alayna Saleem had found her everything in the warm eyes of her father. After his divorce, he had gone into a recluse, for the first few months leaving her to the hands of their maids. They, in their crisp ironed uniforms bounced the happy baby, who had forgotten the scars — the open wounds left behind on her too engrossed with the pink dolls inside her bedroom. Once Saleem regained his senses, he took over his daughter's responsibility, focusing on it with full attention. There was not a moment when he let the young girl out of his sight, not even when she turned into the bright, energetic woman that she was.

Rolling under her crisp black sheets, Alayna smacked her hand along the wooden top of her nightstand. Groaning as the edge of her palm hit the corner of the table, a red mark already embedded on to the skin. Her freshly dyed red hair was tied together in a braid, the french manicure on her nails still intact — it would though shortly fall prey to her anxiousness. Her slender arms, were a contrast to the color of her bedsheets, the lithe form covered under the heavy duvet barely made a dent in the mattress.

The clock struck three minutes past seven as she got out of bed, running a hasty shower. The cold water relaxed the tired muscles after her late night run, a new habit she was adopting. The scent of her blueberry body wash lingered in the open pores of her skin, it would seep below and remain there for a long time to come. She was more familiar with the ingredients on the back of her toiletries than she was with her own job. Today, a bright Monday in the ever rainy England, was her first day at work — at her father's office.

Running down the stairs in her nude heels was a foolish move, she told herself as the pages from her still open briefcase flew across the threshold. Not to mention her ankle turned awkwardly as she jumped off of the second last step, her neatly tied ponytail coming loose and only by a fraction of an inch did she save her silk blouse from being stained by the lipstick inside her hand. Alayna was in her early twenties with potential untapped, but it in no way meant she had the seriousness of the CEO's that visited her father's office.

"Carefully Alayna."

There it was, that caring voice always looking out for her. Like a glass of warm honey milk, topped with nuts. Her favorite sound — the call of her name from her father's mouth. It more than anything kept her grounded, and gave her a sense of belonging. That she too, could return to someone after the world pushed her away.

"Don't be a – spoilsport dad!" She said.

The breathlessness of it coupled with the giggles brought him relief, that she was alright.

"C'mere," he motioned her closer.

Standing by the round dining table set for two, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His lips kissed the side of her head. Alayna breathed in his aftershave's scent, instantly grateful to still have him around, she kissed his cheek in return pushing a chair out for him, sliding in after, her leather briefcase thrown to the side. It had her name embossed in cursive gold lettering, the edges were worn out, the leather tapering off. The bag once belonged to her grandfather and he had willed it to her on his death when she was ten. Losing him had been like losing a parent all over again, they were wounds time had yet to heal.

"You okay dad?"

He was unusually silent and that irked her. Before her mind could though, project a series of insecurities her way, he nodded his hand squeezing her palm returning some of the confidence she had lost.

"I'm well, it's just hard to believe my bablu is going to fill in the responsibility of a chief executive starting from today."

"Please don't call me that!"

Bablu a nickname she had gifted her own self. It translated to bubbles, and she was plenty fascinated by those in the early years of her life. Despite being from Pakistan, Alayna had lived in England her entire life, it had pushed her away from her own culture and language that she was forced to cherish the little bits of joy she found amongst the sea of unknown. She still struggled with the language that was supposedly her mother tongue, although no one could be blamed for it.

"Alayna I want you to know that I'm very proud of the woman that you have become. You're an inspiration to me with your strength and will power, and I know that one day you'll do great things."

Suleman's voice and eyes dripped with tears, it was after all not every day he got to see his only child prepared to head into work.

"You are my strength and will power, I would still be lost if it were not for you." She shuddered even at the thought of her teenage days.

"Everyone has such days, everyone makes mistakes, don't hold that against yourself."

"It almost cost you your life!"

Her voice dripped with self hate and resentment. Tears were on the verge of escaping, her mind in a helpless state as she struggled to bury the memories of the past. Holding on tightly to the defense mechanisms her therapist had taught her.

"It didn't happen, so don't fret over it. It's alright," he said, "if there is anyone in this world allowed to hurt me, it's you."

📜

In the heart of London a five story glass building stood with pride. The one way glasses allowed bright sunlight to pass through, cutting down the usage of artificial lights during the days by forty percent — the company's advisors were sure it would be more had it not been for the unexplainable weather of the country. Windows with their heavy bolts and round metal rails added a futuristic look, the triangular floors lined with white marble and grey slabs on the walls. Dressed in white and grey formal attire walked in and out of the company, their mouths moving in silent crisp chatter.

Alayna followed behind her father as they crossed the tarmac, the sliding glass doors opened and the controlled temperature of the building instantly cooled her skin. She had been inside the place countless amount of times, she was famous for visiting and taking her father out for lunches when he did not have any important meetings. It was the first time though, that she was walking inside it as a part of the company that too the most integral one — as it's CEO. A few workers greeted her with floral arrangements whilst the others smiled politely in her direction, she could sense hostility from some of the higher ups, it did not mean though she would give up.

Her father smiled at her in reassurance leading her towards the glass enclosed cabin. A cherry wood desk with rounded edges was pushed along one of the white walls, a large painting of white daffodils hanging behind it. A low height chest of drawers rested below it, the almost mocha shaded leather swivel chair swung under her weight. She moved her feet in the air with glee, it was her dream chair. Two chairs on the opposite side were occupied by her father and his assistant, a years old employee who would cover up for her until she found one of her own. Robert Green was more like family than worker to them.

"Congratulations Alayna. Welcome to your first day at the office." Robert said.

"Thank you Rob, it feels good to be seated on this seat," she replied, patting the arm rests.

"It was about time this old man retired."

"This old man pays the both of you," Suleman cleared his throat, "treat me with some respect!" He whined.

"Dad bura manain na!" Alayna replied.
[Dad please be offended!]

"You mean 'bura na manain' my child."
[You mean 'don't be offended' my child.]

Red filled the plains of her white cheeks like mountain tops covered with a dusted powder of snow. Tiny freckles dotted over her nose bridge came to life as the color turned a shade too dark. Fiddling with her rings, one that her father had gifted her and the other she had splurged on as a part of her 'self care'. Her eyes were filled with tiny stars as she rested her chin in the well of her palm, staring at the two elderly men. The perfumed scent of her flowers filled her nostrils calming down the headache she felt building up out of nervousness.

"Anyways let me read out your schedule," Robert spoke.

Alayna nodded, excitement buzzed through her veins. All the years of hard-work, the burnouts and the pain she had fought with to prove her teachers and bullies wrong — the ones that passed snide remarks about her mother at every small failure. Today was the first day towards her success.

"Today is a relatively tamer day, just one meeting with a MP, regarding providing security to for a charity event. Other than that, you need to meet the cybercrime department that has been working on a new product to ensure safety."

"Sounds good! Dad I'll see you at lunch then?"

"Of course, I'll be looking forward to that, if you need ever help come meet me." Suleman said.

"Ah and before I forget, you two are invited to a birthday celebration in Italy by Mr.Alamgeer Ahad."

"Ah! Yes he called me about it, clear her schedule. We'll be in Italy for a good two weeks." Suleman nodded.

"I can't wait! I want to meet the creator behind half the art pieces I own!"

The chatter died down slowly and steadily, with the two men leaving her alone with a handful of black files to read through. She sighed eyeing her ever constant companion, a mug of her favorite roasted coffee. Sipping on it, she relished the flavor, glad that it was not too watery nor was it too strong in it's flavor.

The aria font, size thirteen — no one used size twelve unlike what her university teachers made her believe. She scratched the back of her head, making neat notes over the pages writing pointers around the plain sides. A red card caught her eye, gold lettering glinting on top of it — a reunion at her high school, another place where bitter memories would come to life. God, where was He taking her? She was not ready to face them, to sit and hear their entitled gossip as they sipped on their fruity punches. Her father would rather she attend the dinner to prove everyone wrong.

But did she even believe in herself?

How's that?