Dating : Captivated by the Screen

This is a short story that I wrote two summers ago for one of my online summer classes. It’s not perfectly polished (none of my works are), but here it is. Enjoy.

— — —

The glint of the dark mirror beckoned her closer. The screen was bordered by reflective black edges and coaxed her to peer inside. She found herself stepping closer and ever closer until her palm laid flat on the window separating her between the mystifying contraption.

“Sar!” A voice yelled beside her.

She quickly stepped back and moved her hand away from the window display. It was the third time this week that she had been caught outside the store longingly watching the empty black screen.

“What are you doing out here? It’s time for dinner. Come on!” Her sister pulled on her sleeve, eager to get home. Sar glanced at the sky, noticing the sun setting behind the hills in the distance. With one last look at the screen, she tore her gaze from it and willingly followed her sisters’ guidance back to their house.

One day. One day in the near future, that screen would be hers.

—

“Eat some more, Sar. You look a little pale.” Her mother placed more green beans into her half-filled bowl of rice. Sar looked at her food with a lack of appetite. Where could she get the money to buy it? Could she ask her parents?

Her eyes glanced up from her bowl and briefly met her parents’ eyes full of worry and concern. No. She couldn’t ask them. She then turned towards her left, where her sister was hurriedly eating the soy sauce chicken that mother prepared that night. No. She wouldn’t have the money either.

It was hopeless. The working-class family she grew up in never could afford the biggest or the brightest of anything. Not toys, appliances, or even seemingly basic necessities like new clothes or a fresh fish for New Years’. Even these cultural traditions were exchanged for the slight security that they could perhaps pay all the bills this month and not have to work overtime to make up for their lack.

“Hey, if you’re not hungry I’ll eat it for you.”

Sar looked up just in time to see her brother’s chopsticks grab the green beans from her bowl and put them into his mouth.

She stood up, glaring at her brother who unabashedly placed his chopsticks on the table and glared back at her.

“Are you kidding me? I barely get enough to eat and here you are stealing my food.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to eat it I might as -”

A flash of movement in the corner of her eye and the screeching of a chair against the hardwood floor erupted.

She looked up just in time to see a hand slap her right across the face. Sar stepped back and her hand immediately went to her cheek, feeling the sting that was left behind. Her eyes lingered on the table, afraid to look up and face another scolding.

“Sar.” Her name was turned into a command — a force that called her to look her father in the eye. But she couldn’t do it. She could feel his stare piercing through her skin as he made his command explicit. “Look at me, Sar.”

Her gaze slowly began lifting from the table … to the hand that just slapped her … to the thrift store white tank top that was turning more and more into loose threads day by day … to the face of her father. The old crease-worn face that stood before her with a grimace and a stare so sharp it would cut through her if it were tangible.

“How many times have I told you to not complain? What we have in this household,” he pointed to the floor, and then at her, “what your family is able to provide for you,” he then pointed at the food that was on the table, “is something you should be grateful for. Do you know how hard I work for you? For this family? Only to have you stare at a stupid device you can’t afford instead of finding a job or doing well in school!” His voice kept getting louder and louder until he was yelling. His finger was now pointed directly at her, at her very existence. The house was frozen. Everyone was watching them, and no one dared to move.

Sar winced and cowered, her eyes no longer able to meet her father’s. She knew she was a failure. But she only wished for a better life for herself, and that’s why she stared at the empty screen every day. She was using that as motivation to do better in life … to be better in life. But her mouth was dry and she couldn’t speak, only focusing on how to not let her red-hot face begin overflowing with tears.

Finally, she heard a large sigh being let out and the words, “go to your room.”

Immediately nodding and not daring to look up, Sar quickly bowed before turning around and running back to her room, where she could cry alone for at least another 10 minutes before her sister came barging into the room that they shared. All she could do was cherish this time alone.

—

Her hands couldn’t stop turning the piece of paper in her hands. It was a miracle. It was fate. No, it was her own hard work and perseverance that brought her here. She was standing in front of the store with the screen once more, but this time she had an intent to buy. Even though her family was still struggling to afford enough food for everyone, this would be worth it. Because what Sar held in her hands that day was her first paycheck. Not enough to pay off the whole device, but a considerable amount such that she could pay the first installment.

Sar stepped into the store, head held high. Today was going to change things. Forever.

—

“Sar! Sar, get up! You’re going to be late for work!”

The almost screech-like sound from Sar’s mother made Sar cover her ears and turn over in her bed. She was still exhausted, given the fact that she had only slept a few hours last night. The television set in her room had beckoned her to keep watching practically all night until the rerun of a talk show at 4 AM began to get boring and Sar finally decided to go to sleep.

An instant before Sar began to fall back to sleep, she felt her blankets being pulled abruptly away from her. Her eyes snapped open, feeling exposed, her arms wrapped around herself in an effort to preserve any last warmth.

“What is wrong with you today? You’re more difficult to wake up than usual!” Sar’s mother pursed her lips and glanced around the room. And at that moment, Sar knew that she had made a mistake of not hiding her beloved screen well enough. She had already done her best to move it when her parents weren’t home, but in one day she would already be found out.

Sar’s mother pulled back the pile of clothes that were inconspicuously covering the screen. Her eyes widened in surprise, but quickly narrowed when she realized what she was looking at.

Sar was a goner. There was nothing on this earth that could help her now. Even the alluring glint of the black screen could do nothing but mock her as the feather duster came down. She was alone, exhausted, and hurt.

It was her choice to make. Her money to spend.

But in the end, all she could feel was the exhaustion in her bones and the whip of the feather duster as it came down once more.