Saving my Own Soul

VII

After about thirty minutes, more family members flooded in, along with my sister who was the latest out of everyone. I coziest myself up on the living room leather couch. I found a nearby blanket and sprawled myself out. Suddenly, I began to feel myself doze.

I recollect my time as a child and wondered if things would have been better if they turned out differently. I had waited all four months for a scholarship acceptance letter, which would ultimately determine my attendance at North Carolina A&T 's fashion program.

This one letter held my fate, my whole life was encompassed, and was determined by this one letter. To see those words officially written in the paper "We regret to inform you that you are not a recipient of this scholarship", hurt me more than anything. It was like I had a massive heartache without dying. It made me so angry and crushed, shattering my world in a matter of seconds.

I felt as though my whole life depended on that one decision, and I had clearly failed in their eyes. I couldn't understand why these words were written. I had worked so hard to get where I am now, and I was honestly tired of proving myself to people, who, in the end, don't even give me the credit I deserve. I felt my chest heave up and down in a quick motion, escalating ever so fast. My chest tightened, as a pool of tears showered my shirt. I rushed inside, afraid of anyone seeing my defeat of vulnerability. I scurried to my room, slamming the slightly broken door behind me and plunged on my bed.

I cried and I cried. I think I cried so much I couldn't even recognize the actual color of my pillowcase, it was so wet and dark. I knew in my mind, my parents would be no good, at all, they would only make me feel even worse than I already was. I dialed the two people I knew would be there. Although Sumayyah was away on a trip for photography and wouldn't be home until later, I knew by this time she would be on the bus home. I needed her more than anything.

But as I began to slowly realize after the fourth call, she wouldn't be answering, and the only thing I'd be hearing was her voicemail box. "You've reached Sumayyah. Sorry, I couldn't reach the phone right now, but I'll get back to you soon.". I gave up and decided on trying to call Mica, but she wasn't picking up either. So, I laid there, in silence, forever how long, until I heard a creak at the door. In peeked my father. His small frame slipped through the door, his eyes furrowed, showing his concern.

"Sayria, what's wrong?" he asked.

I buried my face into the covers, hoping eventually he would just go away. The last person I wanted to speak with was my father. My father and I had hit a sudden rough patch ever since my senior year started. With the desire to go out-of-state, and with my test scores not being very promising enough to get me there, the topic of money and grades has conjured up constant arguing between my parents, and me. And the last thing I wanted to do was give him another disappointment. Suddenly, I felt a cold chill over me, realizing he removed the covers from off my body.

"Sayria, if you won't stop. Either you're going to tell me what's wrong or not, but you're not gonna act like a child," he commanded sternly. See, I didn't even get one word out and he's already coming off strong with me.

"Daddy, I didn't get it," I whined, my eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"Get what?! Say it Sayria!" I winced a bit, but I held my composure.

"I didn't get the scholarship, for the fashion design program at A&T. "

He looked at me in disbelieve, then sighed, and with a calm voice, he spoke.

"Let me see the letter Sayria."

My clammy, and shaky hands indicated the anxiety I was feeling as I handed over the folded piece of paper. I watched as his eyes moved across the page, soaking in every written word, just as I did moments before. His eyes scrunched, and his eyebrows furrowed, then, he looked back up at me.