This is my first work so please be patient with me. I am not from the west but actually am from a very small country in Asia called Bangladesh but I have studied in an American based high school so know a little about the happenings on that side of the world as well as have been on quite a few visits. English is not my first language so bear with me through the grammatical errors.
Thanks and I hope you Enjoy :D
Rain pattered in the window. Soft strokes of water ran down the side trickling into the gutter. I sighed as I watched the beautiful display of a miracle going on the outside my own window as I sat on the sill. I have always believed in miracles. They have always been a part of my very ordinary life. I believe that every day is a miracle. The blue sky, the green trees, birds in the sky, and even the fact that we are living, breathing creatures. Everything seems to have a divine purpose.
I am not necessarily really religious. I do believe in God and I have a theistic world view. The miracle that I see in every single day has to do with the things that I have gone through in life. No, I have not been raped, molested, none of my parents died, or have been heartbroken. I have gone through some of the more simple problems. Problems such as backstabbing, and lying friends, being overshadowed by a more talented sibling, and parents who find fault in every bloody thing you do and put restrictions on you for no reason whatsoever. Seriously, even Hitler would bow down to the regime my parents have going on in their house. Ok so maybe he wouldn't, but I assure you he would come pretty darn close.
"Anusha Tamara Fares! You get your butt down here this instant!" My mom screeched in her high, and extremely annoying voice. "You know that your brother will not wait for you! And in my opinion should not wait for you. You do this every day Anusha. You should've known better by now!"
God that woman could shriek. In my opinion, she should've joined the opera when she had the chance. Would've been a great success I tell you. I grudgingly got off my window sill and went into the bathroom. I can't believe my parents. First they drag me from all my friends and my awesome life in New York City to Atlanta and they expect me to be the perfect Indian girl and just abide by their rules. Yes, I am of Indian decent. I don't like to say Indian because I was born here. My parents moved here after my brother was born. I on the other hand was conceived here and given birth here on the land of opportunities, the home of the brave- America. Yes, I am proud to say I am an American. No I don't shun my Indian heritage contrary to popular belief but I still like to say that I am and always will be an American. My parents on the other hand insist that I am an Indian so should be the perfect Indian girl, you know, the stereotype of the quiet, sweet, obedient girl who cooks and cleans without a thought and her only ambition in life is to get a good husband and make babies. Well, tough luck cause I really am quite the opposite.
I sighed as I washed up and looked into the mirror. I was so different from all my Caucasian counterparts. I had straight brownish black hair, dark brown eyes, brown and tanned skin, my lower lip was thicker than my upper lip, and to top it all off I was pretty short, 5' 4in. Well, what can you do? Gotta work with what you get right?
I pulled on a black hoodie and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. I pulled my hair up in a pony tail and set my bangs on one side. I pulled on my black converse, grabbed my backpack, and ran down the stairs. I went into the kitchen to find that my mom had made a traditional Indian meal. I groaned in despair. I didn't hate Indian food, heck no. In fact I loved it! It's just that my mother had a way of making my brother and I hate the most normal things. She cooked it so often that it has become a boring and drab part of life.
" Cereal Ma, once in awhile, cereal please!" I said
" Your brother never once complained. Why do you give me such a hard time? Just appreciate the fact that you have food on the people unlike so many other people I can point out."
Of course she had to start on my 'perfect' brother and all the helpless, unfortunate people back in India. Not like I don't care but as I said before, my mom can make me hate the simplest things.
" Whatever Ma, I'm out."
" Don't you walk away from me. Come back and eat your food!" she said yelling in Hindi.
I just walked briskly out the door to my brother's car. I saw him leaning against the door waiting for me. In all honesty, I loved my brother. He was fun and spontaneous yet was the most sensible person in my family. He looked at me and smiled.
" Hey Tammy, did Ma annoy you again." He knew me well.
" Ya, let's just go." We got into the car and buckled the seat belt
And then we were off to my school, Jenkins High. This will be my first day. I am a junior this year and I still can't believe that my parents would do something like to me. I mean, I lived in freakin NEW YORK!!! New York I tell you! The big apple itself! But no, just cus of my dad's stupid new job we had to move all the way to stupid Atlanta. I huffed in annoyance.
"Give it a chance Cara" my brother said. My brother tends to call me Cara as his term of endearment for me when he wants to. "you might really like it. I know you are the concrete jungle type girl but I
think this change might be refreshing. Atlanta isn't bad. Not bad at all."
I kept looking out the window and didn't reply. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my brother shake his head. We turned around the corner and my new source of torture loomed in front of me. Back in New York, I was considered one of the 'hot desi' girls. Even though it was kinda racist, I loved it. I am very outgoing and outspoken so I loved every bit of attention I got. Now, I am just gonna be the new girl.
Nobody will know me and I will have to start all over again. Which so totally sucks.
We finally pulled into the new school's parking lot. The school loomed over us in its huge red brick haze. I sighed inwardly. First day of school, this is going to be a long day.
So? What did you think? Should I continue? I know I haven't really gone into the plot a lot but I will in the next post. This story is going to be a little different than most. At least I hope so.
Please vote and comment. I really want to hear what you think J
YOU ARE READING
The Teen ThingTeen Fiction
Anusha Tamara Fares is a senior in high school this year. But she isn't happy about it. Not one bit. Her parents took her away from her perfect life in the Big Apple and brought her to Atlanta!! Now she has to start all over again and to top it all...