Thorn

The rest of the week seemed to drag on. I still could not get into the mood for clothes shopping. Claire was the fashionista; I am happy wearing leggings and a comfortable top. High heels, dresses, and all the make-up just aren’t me at all, let alone having to go clothes shopping for them. Each evening after dinner I would retire early to my room or be caught listening to Claire and looking at her Pinterest ideas constantly. Before I knew it Saturday had arrived and Claire was on my bed waking me up at 8am.“Wake up lazy bones!” She shook me awake.I had nothing in me besides a groan.“We are going whether you like it or not, the alternative Leila is that I pick your outfit completely blind?”“Fine, can you at least give me 20 minutes to wake up properly and get washed and dressed?”“I will do you one better; we leave the house at 9am!” she shouted as she left the room.I dragged myself out of bed, found the easiest, most comfortable clothes for shopping that I could and headed to

My fingertips hovered over the writing feeling the indentation on the page. I opened the next page and found pictures from when I was a baby, and with each page turned, I grew older. The photos stopped halfway through the album; the photos stopped when I was thirteen. They stopped the day I lost my parents. How much I wished they could see me now and how much my mother would complement my dress and how I looked. I wondered what they would say about my job, my love life and the messes I have made. I missed them more in moments like this than any other moment in life. All the what ifs, maybes and what could have been. I shed a few tears and let my fingers brush over each photo recalling the moments in memory. There came a gentle knock at the door, it was Claire. I looked up with blurry, tearful eyes. She approached and sat on the bed in front of me. She reached out and held my hand.“They would be so proud of you, Leila.”I smiled through the tears.“I wish it was your mother here choos

As Dan turned off the road, I realised we were there, the entrance to the drive was 8-foot concrete pillars with ornate steel gates wide open. On either side of the gates were ushers guiding cars up the drive. The drive seemed never ending with a row of cars in front of ours. Each car was asked for a copy of their invitation, which Clare happily provided. Our doors were opened by ushers and the keys taken from Dan for them to park the car. The doorway was almost half the size of our little house. The grandeur of the property was more than I could have imagined. Waiters were waiting at the doorway with trays of drinks for you to select from. Claire handed me a glass as I marveled at the hall as it opened up. The entrance alone was almost as big as our house. I looked around slowly taking in my surroundings. There were security guards at the bottom of the stairs stopping anyone from exploring, along with on some doors off to the left of the hallway. The doors on the right were open

I heard my father's voice in my head. Always trust your gut, little one. If your gut says run, then run as hard as you can and never look back. If it says stand your ground, trust the person in front of you, then listen to your gut. Trust yourself. My gut was saying stay. “Ok. The truth is there was a guy not too long ago that I had fallen for over several years. I trusted him like I had never trusted anyone before, and I shouldn't have done it. He broke my heart and shattered my trust in men. Since then, I have tried dating, but I just couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone.” “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. However, I am happy to listen if you do, though.” I began to walk, and he followed my lead. I kept my gaze forward as I began my truth. “My roommate, Claire, has an older brother, Dan. I developed feelings for him over the years. I finally plucked up courage and decided to tell him how I felt. He laughed at first until he realised I was being serious. He wa

The closer we got to the gate the louder the music became. I could feel the beat and the music playing has a quick enough beat to make the dance interesting. My mind flashed back to the dance lessons I had as a child and I couldn’t help my steps becoming more beat orientated. He noticed and stopped us on the path. The song was halfway through, but he waited for a break in the beat before grabbing my hand and starting to dance, my feet picked the beat up immediately and followed his lead. Before I knew it my face was filled with happiness and my feet with the dancing beat. The song seemed to finish quicker than I thought. He took a step back and gave me a mini applause which was accompanied by some couples passing by also. My cheeks flushed red, but I couldn’t stop beaming."I believe you may have understated your dancing skills, miss Leila.” “I didn’t state my skills, just said that I don’t dance. Maybe what I should have said is I don’t dance anymore. However, having a good lead do