Hearts in Chains

Chapter 3

Two hours later, I leave Becky's house. We saw movies and talked about random shit. I would have stayed there all day if my mother hadn't called me. She didn't tell me what the 'emergency' was but she told me it was serious.

When I got home, my mother was fixing her hair in the mirror. I look around the house. It's even more clean them usual. Candles are lit all around the house. As I walk, I can feel the marble floor even more slippery them usual. My father is sitting on the couch, wearing a tie. My sister is wearing a elegant little white dress.

Unlike Becky's house, my house was not not warm and cozy. My house was big and fancy. Marble floors, clean white stone walls, two floors, balconies in each bedroom, skylights, paintings of famous artists... everything in my house is fancy and expensive. For some people, my house is their idea of a "perfect" home. I don't share their option. I don't feel at home in my actual home. When I'm at Becky's house, I do feel at home. There is just this love in her house. Like the house itself is telling you to relax. When they say "make yourself at home", they actually mean it. I can actually get comfortable in Becky's house. In my house, I feel like I'm in a museum. I'm not supposed to touch anything and everything is there on exposition, for people to see.

Nothing is real.

So the fact that my parents just made my clean and perfect house even more clean and perfect just confused me.

"What's happening?" I ask my mother's reflection in the mirror.

"Jesus, you are not even dressed!" She gasps when she turns around.

She takes my hand and drags me upstairs to my room.

"Luckily I bought you the perfect outfit for you to wear. Now wait right here, I'll be back!" She leaves the room as quickly as she came in.

I stare at my clothes in the full length mirror. Unless Obama is coming over, I can't think of a reason I should dress differently. When my mother comes back, I open my mouth to ask her but she cuts me off, shoving a elegant pale yellow dress in my face.

"Tadaaaaa!"

"Mom..."

"No time for talking, you'll thank me later." She says, pushing me into the bathroom.

The door closes behind me and I lift the dress to examine it. It looks absolutely hideous. I shake my head but do as I'm told. I stare at myself in the mirror. The dress has three quarter sleeves, a tight waist, high collar and stops just under my knees. I look like a little girl. The dress in itself isn't ugly. It's just not my style. Honestly, even tho my parents don't really know me, I thought they knew me a little. Even a complete stranger would see that this dress has nothing to do with me.

When I open the door, my mother claps her hands in front of her mouth and gasps. "Oh my God! You look beautiful!"

"Mom I'm sorry but this... isn't me." I say, shaking my head.

"What? That dress is beautiful!"

"Yeah but it's just not my style! I'll wear something more... elegant then my old outfit but please don't make me wear this!" I say, waving my hand above the dress.

After awhile of convincing, my mother finally lets go of the dress. When she finally leaves the room, I take the hideous yellow dress off and replace it with a pair of tight black pants and a purple ruffled sleeveless shirt. I put on a few simple necklaces and hide my usual necklace under the shirt. I hurry downstairs and find my mom in the kitchen. She preparing food. Lobster. An old bottle of red wine waits on the table. The plates my parents bought of their wedding are set on the table. The silver knives and forks are out and the expensive glasses we bought in France are waiting to be filled on the kitchen counter.

If it's not the president who's coming over, I have no idea why my parents are making such a big effort.

"Can someone please tell me what's happening? Why is everything so clean and elegant? Is Obama coming over?"

"Oh please! If Obama was coming over, mom and dad would have moved house and we would be living in mansion." My sister laughs.

You mean we're not already living in a mansion?

"Juliette stop being idiotic and set the table would you?" My mother says, shaking her head.

"So who is coming over?" I ask my mother once Juliette left the kitchen.

"Our new neighbors!" She squeals excitedly.

"What!? You did all this for our neighbors!?"

"Yes. They have a son your age and a daughter a little younger then Julie." Adds my father from the living room couch.

"Yes! I'm sure you'll all get along." Replies my mother.

"But... they're our neighbors! Why are you preparing the house like if the queen of England was coming over?"

"Well they are our new neighbors..." starts my father.

"And your father's new boss." Interrupts my mother. "And we want to give a good first impression! I mean we are going to live next to them."

"Oh. I get it now. Dad wants a promotion!"

"No that has nothing to do with it!" He complains.

"Oh come on dad. You couldn't get it with your last boss so you want to get a head start with this one!" I laugh.

I leave the as my father denies the obvious and my mother laughs saying that I'm right. I send Becky a quick text explaining the situation and why I won't come by her house tonight.

The doorbell rings and I hear my mother's heals clicking loudly on the marble floors. I hear her opening to heavy white oak wood door and her sweet voice greeting our new neighbors / my father's new boss.

"I'm Ken, it's a pleasure to meet you. This is my youngest daughter, Juliette."

"It's an honor to meet." Juliette says in her smart, educated, 'strait A student' voice.

"They pleasure is mine." A man voice says in the other room.

When I step into the room, they're still shaking hands. There's a man and a woman sitting in the couch in font of my parents. My sister is smiling at a girl around her age.

"Oh and this is my older daughter, Rebecca." My father says, getting up from the couch and coming to stand next to me. "Rebecca, this is Mark and Martha, and their daughter Julie."

For a second I stare at him, wondering if this was a joke. Mark and Martha? Seriously!? That's almost as weird as finding a married couple named Eric and Erica. And Julie? That's my sister's nickname!

After a few seconds of staring, I finally turn back to our guests. I smile and shake hands with each of them. I smile at Julie before sitting in a black leather chair. It's probably the most normal piece of furniture in the entire house.

My phone buzzes twice. I take it out and start reading Becky's new texts when the door behind me opens.

"Stefan! You still haven't meet Rebecca!"

(Hey there! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you like the story. :) Here's a picture of Rebecca! )