Rebel

Chapter Fifty Three

    It was dead silent.

No one dared to breathe, let alone say anything.

I was waiting for the scientist to lean forwards and yell, "Just kidding!" But she didn't. She just looked around at all of us with a pitiful look on her face.

"No." I hissed, finally finding the ability to talk. "You're lying."

"I'm sorry for your loss," is all she said.

"NO!" I screamed, "You're not sorry because she's NOT. DEAD."

"Sage," Harvey started, stepping forward and putting a hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off.

"Stop it!" I said, taking an unsteady step towards the door, "You all are playing some sick joke on me and it's not funny."

I spun around and ran out the door before anyone could say anything else. They were wrong. Alexsandra couldn't be gone. There's no way. She was too strong to be dead, too kind. She didn't deserve to die. It wasn't right.

I found myself in my room, slamming the door behind me. I wouldn't accept it. There was no way on the face of Braneve and the rest of the earth that Alexsandra was dead. I wouldn't accept it.

I stayed in my room for I don't know how long. I went from shifting into different destructive materials and tearing apart my room to laying numbly on the bed and then back again. I kind of figured I'd get in trouble for making such a mess and a ruckus, but I really didn't care.

At some point in time someone I didn't know knocked on the door. I didn't answer, but they didn't leave. They just told me that the funeral would be in one day in one of the rooms I've never been in in the lower levels. I ignored them. It was for their own good, really. They most likely didn't want to hear what I had to say, anyway.

Sure enough, the next day, someone knocked on my door. Okay, so maybe I was still in my room, what of it? I had no reason to leave, anyway. I wasn't eating so I didn't owe anyone any labor.

After about a minute of them knocking and me not answering, the door swung open and Eliza marched into the room.

"Get up, Lazy Butt." She said, kicking the leg of the simple wooden bed I was so very blessed to sleep on. "The funeral is in twenty minutes and you have a lot of cleanin' up to do."

I glared up at her from where I sat on the floor, "There's no way in heck I'm going to that."

"Yes you are." Eliza said, tossing a dark green jumpsuit at me that I was supposed to pick up last night, but didn't. "Now you have two minutes to get into that or else I'll come in and dress you myself." She marched back outside the room and closed the door behind her.

I huffed and stared at the green pile of cloth in front of me. I had absolutely no desire to go to some crappy, heartless funeral that Sanctuary will throw together. But then again, I had even less desire to sit there while Eliza dressed me like a toddler.

With another huff, I stood up and quickly got into the new jumpsuit. I threw the old, dirty one on the ground and left it there. Eliza came back in once I was done.

"Good. You apparently can do somethin' right." She said, walking behind me and pulling one of those really old fashioned foldable brushes out of the pocket of her jumpsuit, "Now hold still."

"Hold up, what are you doing?" I demanded, spinning around to face her once again.

"I'm doin' your hair," She huffed. "Now turn around so I can fix that mop on your head."

"Literally, my hair is fine!" I cried, throwing my hands into the air.

Eliza rolled her eyes and spun me around by shoving my shoulder. I huffed but gave up with protesting. For now.

Let's just say, Eliza was anything but gentle with a brush. I swear, she tore out half of my hair. But it was when she started to pull it into a braid that I stopped her.

"Woah there, Sunshine, that's where I draw the line." I said, trying to turn back around, but she held me firmly by the hair.

"You don't get to draw the line." She said, still working.

"Um, yeah I do." I said, still struggling to get away, "I never have my hair up. Never will, thank you very much."

"Oh shut up and stop being so dramatic." Eliza said, and I could hear the annoyance in her voice. I huffed and stood there with my arms crossed.

"You are absolutely insufferable," I grumbled.

"The feeling's mutual." Eliza finished pulling my hair back into a braid, which probably took longer than it should have because of how thick it is. One of the many reasons why I don't like having my hair up.

"There," She said, taking a step back. "Now you're at least somewhat presentable."

"Thanks," I hissed through my teeth, glaring over my shoulder at her.

"Oh don't act so bitter," Eliza rolled her eyes. "We both know that Alexsandra wouldn't have wanted you showing up to her funeral lookin' like a hobo."

I had nothing to say to that. Another stab of guilt and pain hit me right in the gut at those words. And based on the face Eliza was making, it showed.

She sighed, and looked like she wanted to say something, but then spun around and started walking towards the door. "C'mon, the funeral starts in ten minutes."

I huffed and grudgingly marched after Eliza, feeling extremely cold without my hair keeping my neck warm. "I'm cold!" I whined, making sure my voice was loud enough for her to hear. "I'm gonna freeze to death and it's gonna be all your fault!"

She ignored me, which I took was a good sign. If she wanted to force me to change into nice clothes and put my hair up, she had to live with my whining. It's a fair trade.