His Unwanted Bride

His Unwanted Bride

Chyica

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An arranged marriage was never what I wanted but it seemed to be what life was dishing out to me, and to make it worse, my husband-to-be preferred women on the ...lighter side. And by the lighter side, I mean lighter side of the scale and skin color.

Chapter 1 NO.1

Pain.

Disgust.

Unloved.

These words explain what I have felt for so long it has become part of me.

The pain I feel each time I wake up, knowing that no one wants me, not even my parents give a shit about me.

The disgust I feel each time I look in the mirror and see what I look like. Fat. Ugly. Disgusting. The cellulite on my thighs, the stomach, the dark stretch marks on my hips and everything, the oversized breasts that surprisingly have no stretch marks, the fat are that looked like that of a heifer.

The love I craved for everyday but never got it. I never really had friends because upon being fat and black, I was socially awkward. Very awkward. It was difficult to strike up a conversation with someone and when someone does it or when I manage to do it, I can't maintain it. So I never had friends to listen to me or a shoulder to cry on when I couldn't hold it all in anymore or a friend to at least lie to me and say "You are pretty, you don't look as disgusting as you think you do."

My parents weren't ever there. My mum was a big shot model who never wanted a child because it would ruin her perfect figure. Yes. Upon being all gross and fat, I am an accident. So when she gave birth to me, she went back to her normal life until cancer claimed her when I was 9. My dad, yeah. Another person that saw me as a mistake. He wasn't ready to be a dad when I was born but because he will need an heir in future, he didn't tell her to get rid of it or anything but he didn't want any more accidents, so he told my mum to do something to prevent further accidents, thus she tied her tubes. They didn't want me, never did. So they never cared enough to check if I ate, if I stayed out till 3 am, if I didn't even come back at all. I was just there in their uselessly big mansion which they used to show off, which never felt like home, which looked more like a museum (which was definitely not childproofed) than a home.

I hated mirrors so much, they showed me what I felt everyday. How heavy I am. I have tried a lot of times to lose weight but after each attempt, I got more depressed and went back to eating almost more because after working out for a while, who doesn't get angry when she doesn't see results?

Did it hurt? Yes. Did I stop eating? No. Did I get bigger? Hell Yes!!

Most times, whenever I see people celebrating their birthdays, I can't help but wonder what it feels like to do that. Yes, in case you are wondering, I have never ever celebrated my birthday. Today being one of those days, I am, as usual holed up in my room and thinking about my life and crying my eyes out. In all my 19 years on earth, my birthday has never been celebrated because uhm hellooo. Have you met my parents? But it's all good though. I plan on making my next birthday a memorable one, one I won't forget anytime soon, have all the fun in the world, love myself and stuff like that.

My name is Danica Maya Roberts. I'm 19 years dark skinned black girl and yeah, probably the biggest and most insecure black girl of them all.

*****************************************

"Miss Maya, your father requests your presence in his office." Mr Howard said through my room door. Mr Howard is the butler and has been with us since as far back as I can remember. He is a greying old man with the cutest granddaughter, Angel, who was the apple of his eyes. I smoothed my hands down my sweater which was big and mid thigh length. I put on my slippers, hoping that maybe he remembered it was my birthday. The sad thing is, even though I knew my parents, I still couldn't help but hope each year that maybe they'd remember my birthday. Up until my mum died, I kept hoping. Last year, I hoped. Every other year, I really hoped.

I knocked and patiently waited for him to invite me in. When I heard the distant "Come in", I walked in. There he was, the king sitting on his iron throne and reading the paper as he usually does all morning while sipping coffee. At 47, he didn't really look a day older than he did when he was 45.

" Good morning Sir." I said while I waited for him to acknowledge my presence. I was always awkward around him because I didn't know how to react around him. When I was 4, my mother had strictly said I shouldn't call her mum or mummy or mother or mama since it made her feel old. Just her name. My father hadn't said anything and so, I didn't know what to call him. So I just stuck with Sir since that's what the workers call him.

"Maya how are you today?" He replied. Was he really interested? I didn't think so. It was probably just for formalities sake.

"I'm fine, thank you. I believe you are in good health." I replied. Such formal stuck up conversation between father and daughter.

"Yes I am, thank you for asking. I called you in here to let you know that there will be a marriage between you and Mrs. Amanda James' son, Keith."

I blinked once, twice, thrice. "Sir?"

"The wedding is scheduled to hold a week from today. Everything is already taken care of, all you have to do is show up."

"I don't understand."

"I am not speaking French Maya. I am expanding the business and it's a sort of partnership."

"But I don't want any of that."

"We don't want a lot of what we get in life Maya. You are my heir, but you can't handle the business. I am not only expanding it but I'm also securing it. This business has been in this family for 3 generations and I will not let it fold up in my hands."

"But I am just 19. I'm not yet ready to do this."

"I wasn't ready to be a parent when you came Maya. Life happens, you just have to move on. It will be a court marriage and unfortunately, I won't be around on that day, so it will be just you and Keith in there exchanging your vows. Here's a copy of the contract, go through it whenever you want to." He completed as though there was nothing wrong with what he said.

I didn't say anything except take the document from him and then left. I refused to cry in front of him. But immediately my hand touched my door nub, the first tear dropped, and then the second and third and then the dam broke free.

I hated my life, I hated myself for being so weak I couldn't even stand up against my own father, I hated the fact that people pushed me around and I didn't do anything about it, I wished so much I was never born.

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