Prologue:

I've always been wary of the idea of marriage. The idea of always being there for one person, the very idea that, somehow, one ceremony induces the idea that you are property of a said person or vice versa has the potential of being my biggest fear.

I'm all for people going forward with what they love and even the concept of love. However, when it comes to the expectation of this one person to be called my one and to call me theirs, I loathe the blind perception that many have accepted as their truth, the perception that this expectation is inevitable.

Once, a friend of mine asked high school me what she would want to do in the future. I said I wanted to have a flourishing job that I love, pursue my passion for the arts and adopt a little girl. This girl would be my princess and the love of my life. I wouldn't need a man, she'd be the very apple of my eye. I'd raise her to be a respectful woman who's respected as well. My friend laughed at me and spoke of her picket fence daydream of a big house, a rich husband and many children. To each, their own, I guess.

Being this way, I'd probably be practicing new choreography, writing something new or studying at the age of twenty. I am doing all of those, but I'm the furthest thing from my life goals right now. Well, what's life without being unpredictable?

I'm engaged to a boy who I don't know, a boy about whom the most information I have is his name and the fact that he's three years older than me and working. I don't love him, nobody forced me to marry him and I'm not pressured to marry him for any reasons. Yet, I haven't called it off. To this day, I don't know why I agreed to marry him. What am I even doing with my life?

"Cherica, you need to go sleep! You have to be up in five hours to start your new life!" my cousin's excited voice pulls me out of my dream-like state.

The scene surrounding me floods my senses as I take in the henna adorning my palms and the legion of saree-clad aunties and cousins who snicker amongst each other at my dumbfounded expression.

"Oooh, she's already dreaming of her life with her hubby!" another cousin quips.

Dreaming? Absolutely not. All I'm doing is fretting over if I just willingly messed up my whole life by agreeing to marry a stranger. Have I?

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This was just a short intro to lend some insight into Cherica. Remember that any character(s) of mine may seem over dramatic at times but they're written as human beings. Everyone's different and everyone's got their own traits and vices. No hate please. Peace!

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