Nemirel

The pounding on the door made her reflection in the mirror shiver.  Annoyance pierced through her as her long, black hair had carefully been braided up with white flowers placed along each braid.  The room, other than her, stood empty as she sat on her knees.  She knew sitting like that wrinkled her white gown, but she didn’t have enough ambition to care at the moment.  Her stomach burned with anxiety and dread as the pounding on the door hammered again.

“Nemirel, you’re going to be late,” her father’s voice sounded harsh.  She knew he was stressed almost just as much as she and his temper began to run.

Slowly, Nemirel rose to her feet.  She felt unsteady as the anxiety ran up her throat and spewed onto the mirror.  Bitter, acidic flavors filled her mouth as her image blurred from the now present vomit.  Thank heavens her dress remained dry and clean unlike the dress in the mirror.  The door behind her swung open and she felt her father’s arms around her.  His eyes boiled with concern, “Are you alright, Nemirel?”  

Hesitantly, she nodded, “I am, father.”  Pulling out of his grasp, Nemirel regained balanced and gave the mirror a disgusted look from its stench.

“You have no time to worry about that, my daughter,” her father said with warmth in his voice.  “We must go before you are late.  It would not be good to be late on your own wedding.”

“I do not know if I am ready, father,” Nemirel felt the weight of her words as they pried themselves out of her sour flavored mouth.

She felt the soft touch of her father’s hand as it gripped around the upper portion of her arm, “No one is ever ready for such a large commitment.  But you are a strong woman, my girl.  I know you can do it.  I have faith in you.”

“Of course, father,” Nemirel finally broke her eyes away from the mirror and looked up to her father.  Lines traced along his eyes and his mouth as Nemirel realized for the first time how old he had become.  The vibrancy of his hair faded into a speckled grey hue and the brilliance of his eyes dimmed.  When had he grown so old?

“Come along my girl,” he spoke so softly as he led her out of the room.