The Rebel

VI

For an hour, I lay in bed with the Zac Brown Band's The Foundation album whirls away as an alarm. With it being Tuesday, I can get away with sleeping in until midday. I have one class to go in for which only lasts an hour. Considering my mood, it couldn't be a better day for it.

"Morning, Fi." The sleepy Pup's head pops up from beneath the blanket she buried herself into, trying to figure out what day time it is. Then all of a sudden she's up and sniffing under the door, realising there's probably food waiting for her downstairs.

I allow her to scratch at the wood for a few minutes before clambering after her. It takes a moment to reattach the handle. Just as I do so, swinging the door open, a fist almost pummels into my nose.

"Morning to you too, Ray." I squeak. She squeals, pulling her hand away. "Sorry! I didn't think you'd be up yet with the whole avoiding our parents thing." She shuffles inside, Fifi darting past her to tumble down the stairs.

She begins making the bed, she'll never sit on an unmade bed. I stretch out, bending down to touch my toes to speed up the awakening process. "So how are you doing?" She asks, pulling a face, already knowing the answer.

I tilt my head forward, looking at her through my eyelashes with a dead straight expression. "Got it. So what are you going to do?"

"Ignore them for the rest of my life and hope they forget I exist." I grunt, pulling a brush through my hair. "I don't think that will work."

"One can dream." I leave the room, heading to the bathroom.

My teeth are scrubbed clean, and flossed for the extra gleam. There's no point in washing my hair since I'm just going to tie it up in preparation for work, I'll wash it tomorrow. Instead, I comb some hair treatment through it to pause the greasing process and maintain its health. I continue to wash and moisturise my face, I don't want to go back to my acne riddled skin days.

Upon reentering my room, I screech as Rabia holds up the cherry fabric of a current project. She flinches, though continues clinging to the dress, leaving me horrified. I'd hidden it under some loose materials in my scraps basket.

"Please tell me you're wearing this to the ball." Her eyes are wide with hope, fingers tracing over the silky skirt. "Probably not. Mother will just rip it off of me and toss it in the bin. It's just something I'm making in my spare time." I try snatching it from her, but she holds it at arms length away.

"You have to wear it! It's your best piece yet and it isn't even finished!" She tries to inspire me but I groan and start looking for today's outfit.

"Rabia, I am fed up of fighting with her. I just want to go unnoticed until I can move out." Some jeans and a plain shirt are thrown onto the back of my chair.

"Are you kidding me? What happened to you?" She collapses onto the mattress, broken hearted. "I'm tired, Rabia. I have no energy left in me to put up with her bullshit. Every time she makes a comment or tries to interfere I'm losing a part of myself, I'm trying to hold onto the last of my sanity I have left."

"Exactly! You're letting her ruin you! I don't even recognise you anymore. You just took out the plainest most un-you outfit I have ever seen. Rhett, you need to stand up for yourself and prove you are not afraid of her. I love you and will always support you, that means telling you you're being a dimwit for letting her brainwash you." She drawls on, waving her arms around.

"This dress is magnificent and you will be the centre of attention in it, just like you deserve."

"Rabia -"

"- No! I am sick of you getting pushed around. I can only fight for you so far, you have to do the rest yourself." She shakes her head, storming out of the room.