MIKAYLA . . . "Have a great day and be a good girl, okay?" My dad says, looking down at me with those eyes. "Yeah, bye, bye!" I wave my hand, grinning at him. His eyes follow the movement of my small hand. Well, my hand is very small in front of my Dad's hand. He smiles back and kisses my forehead. My eyes close for a brief moment before the touch leaves and he gets back into the car, passing me one last smile. I sigh once the car leaves and walk through the broad stoned pathway that leads to the grand building of my school. The scent of fresh green leaves meets my senses as I breathe deeply, walking as I hold the straps of my red princess backpack. On the way, my classmates and those who are not even my classmates greet me. They hover around me like moths, telling me silly things while I enjoy receiving attention. I deserve it and I know it. After all, I am the brightest student in the school and everybody wants to be my friend. Flipping my pigtail behind my shoulder, I look
MIKAYLA. . ."May God bless you and keep you; may the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious unto you; may He lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace." My Dad cups my face, kissing my forehead as he blesses me with the Lord's Word. How lovely."Amen," I smile, nodding my head as I pull back.Holding the plate, then I feed him the cake. It is my fourteenth birthday, after all! One of my favorite days of the year which I celebrate at least for a month.He holds my wrist, enjoying the entire piece. I giggle, wanting to give him my whole cake. He then takes another piece and feeds me. I only have half of it, putting down the rest after he cuts it.After that, I feed my Mama and my other family members. When I cut more pieces to serve my friends, including Blondie because I had no other way than to invite him, I happily serve them. But not when I come face to face with Blondie.Why are the pieces still left?"Congrats for finally being fourteen years old on this ear
MIKAYLA. . ."Here?""Shut up for now, Mickey," as that said, he smashes his lips against mine, taking in a deep kiss.I hold his shoulders as he pins me against the locker. His hand crawls up my hip, holding my waist and caressing ever so softly.I tilt my head, letting him have better access. I part my lips, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth when a loud banging of the door interrupts us.Ibzan jerks back, looking at the one who interrupted us. I follow his gaze and really am not surprised to see Mr Blondie standing beside his locker, holding the gloves.Jerk.He stares dead into the eyes of Ibzan, muttering, "Are you not coming?"He is calling Ibzan to join the practice as both are members of the college sports team. Mr Blondie is one the most admired players, more famous for his dumb looks and body which every girl calls hot.Ibzan is another famous player but not as admired as Blondie but who cares? For me, my Ibzan is better — even the best. This Blondie cannot even compete
MIKAYLA. . .The loud voice of the card slapping against our glass table grabs everyone's attention as I throw the stupid card right in front of my mother.Everybody in the living room is now staring at me while I am fuming with hot anger, done with looking at the ugly shine of the wedding invitation card in front of me, on the table, in front of my Mama."What's this?" I grit out, grabbing my hips. Impatiently, I begin tapping my foot on the floor."Oh, Mickey," she smiles at me, holding the card, "This is Barak and your wedding invitation—""Darn it, Mama, I can see it! But why? I don't remember agreeing to marry that Blondie!""Mickey, language. Is this even a way to talk to your mother?" My sister-in-law chides, frowning at me. She had sent her kid away the moment she saw me entering the living room."And about the injustice she's doing to me?""Your Daddy asked you, Mickey and you said yes, don't you remember this?" Mama interrupts, standing up from the couch to address me."Bec
MIKAYLA. . .I paste the tiny black bindi between my eyebrows and look at myself. This was the last thing I needed to put on and I cannot help but give myself a flying kiss at how beautiful I look.Like always.I apply some lip stain, covering my plump lips with a layer of pink gloss. Once done, I turn around and grab my colorful dupatta.Mama's choice is pretty. Too much, as she has chosen for me a set of black patiala suit with a heavy — not too heavy — colorful dupatta that is shiny, too. But I won't go downstairs to praise her for it because I know she has selected such an amazing piece for this meeting only.She wants me to wear it for him.Can you just believe it? I have not even become his wife and my Mama is on her mission of teaching me how to impress my husband.Aww. Her sweet intentions are pure but she does not know that I might mix poison in his food to kill him if things between that Blondie and I try to cross the limit.Grabbing my purse, I walk downstairs. Everybody w
MIKAYLA. . .Pushing away my hair, I walk towards my car. The underground area is not as cool as the wideway outside. My feet walk in urgency because I wish to leave as soon as possible.Especially after the nonsense that's been done in the meeting.What's even special here? I came to him, thinking that he might understand my concern and agree to deny his parents. If he can't understand me then at least see that we can't fit together but I wonder what's wrong with this guy.Is he right in his head?I push my hand into my bag in search of the key when he stops me from behind, calling out my name, "Mikayla."I turn around, giving him a cold look.Sharp and cold eyes set on me, he comes to me, his walk dominant and graceful. I have noticed it before because he always induced such sharpness in his features and charms of his movements that nobody could deny, let alone ignore."Aunt Damaris called me," Mama has grown this obsession of contacting him every time.How lovely. She is already b
MIKAYLA. . ."Really? No, you won't, Aaron. I seriously doubt your choice here.""My choice is the best. See, isn't it pretty? And it'll be even prettier if my precious daughter wears it. After all, she's an exception.""Proud father, aren't you?"Dad chuckles, shaking his head at Mama. He opens his mouth to answer her when I knock on the door twice, getting all their attention."See, my precious little one is here," Dad says, smiling at me, "Come inside, my child. You never have to ask."But you have raised me with manners, Daddy.He proceeds to close the fashion magazine in which he was searching for wedding gown designs.I nod, walking inside. I close the dark brown door behind me, standing by it. "I wanna talk to you, Dad," I say, escaping my Mama's suspicious gaze.If she thinks that she knows my reason because she is my mother and keeps saying that she has kept me for nine months in her womb and there is a deep connection between us, then she is right. I'm here for it."And I'm
MIKAYLA. . ."What are you doing here?" He asks me, eyes running around as if checking for any threat. As soon as his neck turns, my eyes catch the sight of a beauty spot under the end of his jaw.Treacherous eyes."My wish," I grumble and walk past him, trying to avoid the cold air surrounding me that tortures me.I shouldn't have left my bag inside. It is about sundown, unlike when I came out and the sky was brighter than normal days.He follows me, catching my side and speed. I'm practically running, taking long strides even if my lungs decide to answer me soon. I just want to get away from him."Of course, but I was just worried about you," he says, the words that scratch my mind, wishing to make a hole and dwell there forever.Well, I don't care.I don't answer him as we enter the building. Warmth envelopes me. We find our family members and I get my bag, taking out my jacket and clasping the first three buttons.Fortunately, they have done their shopping and I mentally bless my