Purple by Mergina Anwari

                                                                                                       

    Today, almost every television show and teen magazine is talking about teens getting pregnant, teens being unsafe, teens with STDs, teens drinking

too much which leads to drunk driving, accidents, and pregnancy. Whatever, as long as it makes today's teenagers look reckless it will be copied,

sold, and published. It's the same old same old, basically teens are irresponsible and it is almost as if adults expect them to make mistakes.

In today's society so many children go down the wrong path, which adults try to prevent from happening. What adults don't realize is that sometimes

teenagers have to make mistakes and by adults trying to prevent those mistakes they are taking away their freedom and to some extent their

knowledge. When people see teenagers make mistakes they automatically begin to judge. In this story you really can't judge the book by its cover.

This story is about a pregnant teenage girl. The point is not about her pregnancy as much as it is about her ability to speak. Violet was the only one

who helped her find her voice and gain her freedom back.

"Eww! There goes the skank," screeched Molly.

"Yea, is she even permitted on school grounds?" replied Rebbecca

"Don't know, all I know is that she is only a freshmen and pregnant, she couldn't even wait until the transition from junior high to high school was complete."

As Laima shuffled through the hall she couldn't help but over hear everything that was said about her. It didn't hit her as hard as it used to, when it first happened. She was used to the constant stares and the pointed fingers and laughter. She especially hated the whispers because what was the point of whispering when she already knew what they were saying. She only wished that they knew the truth, that she really wasn't a skank or a slut or the millions of other names they called her.

Laima was reeling with happiness because tomorrow would be the most important day of her life, the first day of high school. She had been up all night the day before choosing the perfect outfit to wear school tomorrow morning. The next morning she scrambled out of her queen sized bed throwing her majestic purple covers in a massive heap on the floor. As she was hastily trying to run to the bathroom she tripped over them and landed on her matching purple throw rug. She ran into her purple bathroom and quickly got into the shower. As she hurriedly got ready for school she couldn't help but feel nervous and giddy at the same time. She hastily pulled on her favorite pair of purple socks and her brand new purple shirt. Her favorite color always made her feel like royalty, after all purple was the queen's color. "Laima hurry up or you'll be late for your first day of school!" Shouted her mother from downstairs. Laima quickly did a once over in her full-length mirror behind her door, swiped some gloss on, grabbed her bag and was off.

In the kitchen she scarfed down a waffle and chugged her orange juice in an effort to be as early as possible. She kissed her father goodbye and beat her mother to their forest green SUV parked in the Khans' driveway. She honked the horn several times before her mother came out of the house. Laima and her mother really didn't look alike but both were beautiful in their own way. Her mother Zaara, was tall and slender with thick black hair that cascaded down her back. Laima was petite with shoulder length brown hair and large brown eyes. The relationship between Laima and her parents was not the best but it wasn't bad either. She loved her parents and they loved her. At times there was the typical misunderstandings between the clashing cultures, but nonetheless they were a happy family. Laima was Middle Eastern from Pakistan, although born in the states her parents never let her forget who she was or where she was from.

That was way back in September before Laima was five months pregnant. At the end of September Laima's family flew in from Pakistan. They were planning to stay at her house for three weeks on vacation. Laima wasn't particularly excited about their visit but didn't mind all that much either. The family consisted of an aunt, an uncle, a 14-year old cousin, a 12- year -old cousin and a 20-year-old second cousin. Laima, fifteen herself was instantly excited when she found out that one of her cousins was around her age and naturally she was drawn to her, Samara. But Samara wasn't like all the other girls her age, she could cook and clean just about anything and she could sew as if she had done it by machine. Laima was amazed until she found out that Samara was illiterate. She was shocked but Samara just looked at her and shrugged, "raising a family is more important than being educated," she had said.

 From then on Laima purposely distanced herself away from her cousin, " that kind of mindset was just so ridiculous!" The family soon started talking about a wedding, Laima was excited because she loved weddings. The wedding was of her near relatives in Pakistan and they would all soon take leave during the next upcoming vacation.

On the plane ride Laima thought about all the food and fun and dancing she would get to experience. She fell asleep content on her mother's shoulder. She went to her second cousins family's house and couldn't wait to see the bride and groom. Their house was a colossal mansion and was intricately designed in architecture fit for a castle. They were very well off, if they came to the states they probably would be too.

Three nights after their arrival Laima's mother took her upstairs to talk about the wedding. Laima scurried up the stairs and was wondering what she would wear. Upstairs her mother held a very serious face and told Laima that she was old enough to do many things now,  "take for example your cousin, Samara she is one year younger than you but acts as if she were ten years older."

"Mother!" cried out Laima, "she is illiterate".

"Yes I know, which is why you are luckier than her in many ways. Your second cousin, Vikram has taken a liking to you and wishes to marry you."

"What!" screeched Laima in disgust, "isn't he like twenty years old!"

"Yes but he is very well off and it is about time you get married."

"Mom I'm only fifteen and what about my friends and school and back home."

"You can still have all those things I'm not depriving you of anything your just gaining something in return."

"A husband!"  Laima spat out between scorching tears. "I'm only a child."

"Nonsense!" her mother said wickedly. "I was fifteen when I was married."

"That was you living in a different era, in a different country."

"Well look around you maybe we are not so different after all. Now wipe your face and look presentable when you come downstairs."

As Laima looked into the eyes of the person she once loved so much there was this new feeling forming inside of her. She felt weird until she looked at her mother again and realized what it was, pure hate.

She composed herself and went downstairs to serve the family tea. After she cleared everything and washed everything she went upstairs. She felt like ripping her head off but on the outside she was calm.  She sat on her bed until everyone fell asleep. In the middle of the night she went outside, "what's the point of trying to run away, where will I go?" She went back into the house and into the kitchen where she grabbed the sharpest longest knife she could find and took it upstairs with her. She slashed her wrists over and over watching the crimson liquid ooze out.  She put the blood-covered knife under her pillow and sobbed herself to sleep. She hoped that she would never awake, she did and her nightmare was real.

That was the end of that; Laima was forcefully pushed into wedlock and married to Vikram. She returned to the states and to school but never was herself. She thinks of herself as a broken piece of glass, you can't just put back together an already broken piece of glass, and no matter how hard you try it will never be the same.

She never talked to her mother again and after the wedding she didn't see her or her father again either. She hopes it stays that way forever. Vikram is a simple man who works in a computer software company. He is very boring and quite predictable. After work he comes home, eats dinner, watches TV, and then goes to bed. Laima hates him.

Sitting in her beige leather chair Laima puts her book down and looks at her beige walls and her beige rug.  She gets up and walks into her beige kitchen and she starts getting nervous as she goes up the stairs. Her apprehension hits its boiling point when she looks in her bedroom and sees the color beige; she falls to the ground and starts sobbing. She never knew how badly she hated the color beige yet she was held prisoner in its wrath. Something caught her eye and she got up and pulled it out of the dresser drawer, it was a purple summer dress for her baby. "Purple," she thought to herself. "My favorite color is purple!" She remembered, she went downstairs and looked in the phone book and grabbed the phone and dialed, "Hello, is this Sally's Home Decorating?" "Hi, I would like a decorator."

"I want my whole house refurnished and redecorated."

" I want everything purple!"

She went back upstairs and put her daughter's purple dress away and promised herself that her daughter's life would be different. She would be her own person and make her own choices. "I'm only sixteen," Laima thought to herself. "I still have the opportunity to make my own choices, live my own life and make my own mistakes. Laima went downstairs again and flipped through the phone book until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed the phone and dialed once again, "Hello is this Mr. Tony Arjo, divorce attorney at law"?

After a long time of being forced to do everything Laima finally found her freedom. Laima was tired of being depressed and she didn't want suicide to be her only escape. She wanted to make things better for her daughter, Violet. She hired a divorce lawyer and the paperwork is being processed. She is planning to finish high school and go to college. She doesn't think of herself as broken piece of glass anymore but as a newly formed rock because unlike glass rock can't be broken.