FEATURED ON WATTPAD FRESH READS 21/07
Asha has watched pretty much every rom-com to ever exist and read every romance novel to have ever set foot in the world of literature- in fact, she's even written some successful teen romance novels of her own...
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As my eyelids flutter open, my irises adjust themselves like the spiraling shutters of a camera being brought to life. A soft, ruffled cream sheet lined with specks of warm light slowly comes into focus. A trail of distant whispers flows through my ear, the words becoming louder and more distinguishable by each passing second.
A man with a prominent white beard suddenly leans over me, blocking everything else and emitting a celestial, heavenly glow. I just can't take my eyes off that beard of his. It's as if someone's grabbed a huge wad of teddy bear stuffing and glued it haphazardly onto his face. He looks like a character from a children's cartoon. Or like Father Christmas. Or more like-
"God?" I ask in awe.
I've spent my whole life being a hard-core atheist, much to the protest of my diehard Hindu mother. I have countless memories of rolling my eyes throughout the duration of many, many Wednesday morning Services led by the Chaplain, instances of biting my tongue every time I walk past Christian Union Club at school. But perhaps I've been wrong all along. It's all clear now. The angelic light, the gentle whispers, the God-resembling figure looming over me: I'm in heaven.
God presses his cold fingers against the side of my neck. A wave of relief floods over his face as he exclaims, "her pulse is returning to normal!"
How strange. If I'm in heaven and I've supposedly kicked the bucket, then why on earth do I have a pulse? And more importantly why on earth is God wearing a metallic gold suit?
"Ash, how are you feeling?" A familiar voice asks.
I jolt upwards, floating upon the surface of reality again after having been submerged into a deep trance. Now sat upright and leaning on my palms for support, I slowly move my head from left to right. To the left, Mason crouches beside me biting his nails anxiously. The imposter God kneels directly in front. A throng of elegantly dressed individuals crowd around and share whispers in the background. And to the right: a pair of dress shoes so shiny that I can see my own reflection in it. Hair strewn in all directions, face leaking sweat like an air conditioning unit- I'm a gigantic mess. My eyes move upwards, traveling up the long legs covered in matt black suit trousers and up to the matching blazer. Finally reaching the person's face, they meet the smug, amused, and somewhat questioning gaze of no other than Kai Watson.
A tide of embarrassment flows over me so fast and so intensely that it almost knocks me back down. In fact, I start to wish that it had knocked me back straight into unconsciousness so I don't have to face the harrowing reality that I'm currently being subjected to. The harrowing reality that I'm not in heaven and instead inside a god-damn marquee being stared at begrudgingly by over a hundred people who look like they've stepped right out of a scene from Made In Chelsea. The harrowing reality that this god-damn marquee belongs to Kai Watson.
I must have been so out of it while I was running that I didn't even realise that the three-story house in my peripheral vision was Kai's house.
I turn to Mason, "Uh, yeah. I think I'm fine." I'm fine, but I also want to disintegrate into non-existence.
