She's Not Afraid

Chapter 1: Punishment

Maggie: It was 5:00 am and I was sitting on the couch in the living room in a dress I could barely sit down in. My parents stood over me holding a bundle of magazines thicker than the set of Harry Potter books in my room. They flipped down magazine after magazine, on the covers were pictures of me in similar dresses as I was wearing now doing things normal teens would have nightmares about being caught doing. Once they flipped down the final magazine, the lecture started,"We've been trying to work with you Maggie. But, obviously, you aren't willing to do the same."

I shifted uncomfortably, "What do you expect me to say. That I'm sorry?"

My parents eyed me, "Well, we expect you to clean it up. But, just telling you to obviously isn't working. So we're going to try something new."

I sat back, letting my arms sit on the back rest on the couch, "Like what. Are you going to send me to my room."

My dad picked up a magazine, "'Hollywood's Teen Badgirl, Maggie Nelly'. That's not a good title. And, its not good for your image. Do you know what this would do for your future acting jobs? Or, how about when you want to settle down with a man? Do you think these...outfits are what you want him to think of? Nothin says 'I want to settle down with you' like a shirt without pants."

I laughed at my dad's stupidity, "Please. That's why they'd keep me."

If I could describe the color my father's face turned, I would, but, I honestly can't. So my mom started to step in, "Well, your father and I have decided if you can't clean up your act, you'll have to give up something. Something very close to your heart."

"Like what?" I countered.

"Acting," my parents said in unison. I felt the bood drain from my face. Acting had been my life since I was 11 years old. Or at least that's when I finally got the perfect part that shot me straight to the top. If we were talking about how long I had been attempting to act I couldn't remember when it began. Now they were treatening to take it away. But, I had to stand my ground.

"You wouldn't," I said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"We would," my mother said, crossing her arms.

"But, I make millions of dollars every year. That's what keeps us in this house. That's what keeps everything perfect," I said, breathing quickly.

"Your father and I lived for pleanty of years and wouldn't mind going back to the old life style. And we wouldn't really. You just would have to cut down yours," my mother said, pointing at the stack of magazines.

"Mom, you can't do that. It's not fair," I said, falling back on the worst possible retort.

"So is what you're doing to this family," my dad interjected. I tried to think of something to come back with but was coming up short.

"Okay. I'll, um, do my best," I said, getting up from the couch.

"Nope. You won't do it at all," my mother corrected. I winced before nodding. My mother smiled that evil smile of her's before sending me off to bed.