Desert Rose

My life sucks, period. Most of you would probably slap me or put me in a mental hospital for saying that. I’m sitting on a balcony staring out at the ocean, waves repeatedly sliding across the sand leaving it wet and sticky. My red strapless dress is too tight forcing me to breathe short and fast. I don’t see my parents but I know they are kissing the feet of my boyfriend’s parents, well, probably. Both our parents are one of the most powerful and rich people in the world. I don’t like my boyfriend; he’s an ass that cheats on me every way possible. Then just break up with him right? Not right. My parents are forcing me to date him and when I turn eighteen, I’ll have to marry him. Some dumb science group of lonely people predicts we would be almost as powerful as the president if our families joined through marriage. Yeah the whole parents don’t pick you husband anymore is a load of you know what. Squealing girls remove my gaze from the ocean’s welcoming waters to peer down at them. Erik, my future husband, was flirting with them and touching things that normally aren’t touched at first sight. I rolled my eyes and focused on the wet sand a little ahead of them. The smooth wet ground whispered my name that carried to me through the winds. I always had this thing with the desert and people thought I was weird for it. All I ever heard was how hot “my boyfriend” was and I’m crazy for showing no interest. If you knew Erik, you’d hate him too. He’s the classic jackass kind of guy. He’s good looking, cocky, and a totally in love with not me, but himself. Sneaking a look at my engagement ring around my finger, I stifled a groan. It was silver and had a huge ruby in the center of it, little crystals laid underneath forming a ring of sparkling white light. It reminded me of our relationship, he was on top doing whatever he wanted; I was being crushed underneath and barely able to breathe without his permission. It took gallons of strength to not rip off the ring and try to chuck it at his fathead down below. Okay his head isn’t as fat as I say but you know, kinda hate him so it is to me. Leaning away from the balcony, I stood long enough to peer at myself in the mirror a few feet away from me. I was too tall to be a girl and I had curves in the right places but I wish I didn’t, because maybe then Erik would dump me. My hair was long and silky, the color of sand before its wet and muddy looking. It hung at my waist in neat curls made by one of my maids. My eyes were blue, just blue. My mom always put on this fake high pitched voice around others and would brag how they sparkle like crystals when I’m happy, which is never. The only thing that brings an ounce of joy to my life is my dog, Akila. She is a big fluffy Samoyed that’s pretty dang smart for a dog so that’s how I gave her the name Akila. Ok for people who don’t know Akila is an Egyptian name that means intelligent or something like that. I would normally hide away and be with Akila but dad locks her up during parties, which is like, every day. Money practically grows on trees in this house but it means nothing if you can’t be happy. If it meant I could be poor and happy, I would give up everything except Akila. Don’t get me wrong I love my mom and dad but they seemed so wrapped up with power lately. I pulled at the top of my dress, hoping to get it lose so I could breathe. My mom buys everything tight all the time so I can’t “hide” under my clothes. Please, when you are the only child of a powerful and rich family there is no such thing as hiding. I walked away from the oceanic view from my balcony and stepped into my room. Akila peeked out from the bed and decided it was ok to slip out and pad over to me. Our house is big but my dad can never hide Akila in a spot I can’t find. I smoothed her fur with my fingers, letting it tangle around my hand.
“Oh Akila, I’m sorry you have to live under my bed your whole life…” She cocked her head and flicked her tail once. She seemed to not mind the living conditions since she’s showered with my undying love and fancy feasts that a normal dog could only dream of. All right let’s pretend I didn’t say undying love, that’s so cliché. I stood back up and turned to my bookshelf. I pulled out the huge picture book I got when I was ten. Every page was a different picture of a desert or desert life. The only words were on the cover and the names of the people who drew the pictures. They were so lifelike and I far too often opened it and looked at them. I had every picture memorized, each one could come to mind if I thought of it. Looking at the pictures and touching them was better though. I plopped down on my bed and flipped it open. Akila jumped on and snuggled next to my side. One hand flipped the pages of the book and the other petted her head. My fingers slid past each page until I reached the center of the book where my favorite picture was. A single flower stood in the desert sun. Sand went for miles and miles but only one flower bloomed. The sun’s rays shining on it lighting up the petals. My finger caressed the thin green stem holding the flower up on its head. I always imagined a single gust of wind would knock it down. This picture was always a mystery; I could identify every desert each picture belonged in, except for this one. I could never find the right place. Any desert I matched, did not match the flower’s home. Maybe the author just put it there to bother people like me. It didn’t matter, I felt like the flower. Surrounded by grains of sand that were all the same, but a tiny grain decided to be different and bloomed. Yet it was always alone in the vast desert, a single flower, a desert rose. I was a desert rose, surrounded by the same people in a place I didn’t belong. A sharp rap on the door made me slam the book shut and close it on my finger. Cursing I hurriedly put the book away as Akila scuttled back under my bed. Here we go, after all the calm of my complaining it’s time to face the music. I would have to go out and mingle with snobby rich people, not yay.
“Zenobia! What in God’s name are you still doing in your room?” I cringed at my father’s booming voice. I know what you’re thinking right now, Zenobia, yes, that’s my name. It’s special, like me, and no not in the way most people refer to these days. Another pound on the door forced me to respond in the same dull voice I always used when in trouble.
“Reading.” I heard a groan from behind the door and then heels clicking behind, great, mommy dearest is here.
“Honey, it’s mommy, won’t you please come out? Erik is waiting for you, he’s been asking for you.” I snorted.
“Yeah I bet he has…stupid idiot I could just…” I clamped my mouth shut. That was not supposed to leave my mind.
“Are you back-sassing you mother? Zenobia get your ass out here before I bust down the door!” I heard a quiet please from my mom and I sighed. Dad usually didn’t yell but when I pulled this kind of crap while people were over he did. If only the paparazzi saw him like this, then maybe no one would care about us anymore, I wish.
“Sorry, I’m coming!” I walked as slowly as possible stalling as much as possible. Grabbing the gold knob, I turned it and opened my door. My father was already down the stairs mingling with other powerful looking people. My mom looked up at me and smiled. It was awkward how I towered over her. People always joked about it but I found it rather annoying. Oh right, you were expecting drama back in that little yelling scene weren’t you? Nope, it’s about to happen now. Exactly right now when I open my mouth to speak as a scream emits from somewhere below and glass explodes all around us.