The "Last Chance" List (On Hold, For Now)

Chapter One - The Arrangement

My name is Elisa McCath, 24 and my life is going to end in 3 months. Okay, so I'm a tad dramatic. It's just an arranged marriage... no harm to my psychical self what-so-ever. Then why am I standing in the middle of my bedroom, gasping for air and having an anxiety attack? I might as well go back into my memory and try to think of a good reason, a good opportunity this marriage. I closed my eyes and thought back to an hour ago.

I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom, sketching, or at least attempting to, a bird sitting on a branch. I have drawn one before but I was cursed to never be able to draw the same thing again. No matter what I did. My orange hair cascaded down my back, with half my hair clipped in the back, showing off my "delicate" face as my mother puts it. I always end up pulling strands down to frame my face throughout the period of wearing my hair like this, and it does not fail me now as I pull the strands out now. Staring at the failed attempt, I sighed. Pushing the sketch book aside, I laid my head on the flat surface.

 The morning had been crazy busy. Plans after plans took place and then more planning for next get togethers. A morning tea this morning with my grandmother, a brunch with my mother and her friends, then lunch with my father's executives and lastly planning with my mother for the big party this Friday. It was now almost dinner and I was too exhausted to get up. I still lived at home, much to my protest. It's not that I don't like living with my parents, it's just... crazy busy all the time. And don't get me wrong, I love my dresses but there are days I wish I could slump in my pj's all day and eat pizza. That's why I can't move out. My mother always said I was a wild one, ever since I was a toddler and I threw a plate of disgusting spinach at the butler. My parents are afraid that if I move out, I won't be a lady anymore.

 I stifled a laugh as I thought about all the things my parents didn't know that I do, that would nearly put them in shock of my unlady like situations. Thankfully I have a younger brother, 2 years younger than me, who doesn't care how I act. He thinks its stupid how I have to have perfect posture, manners, and an appearance 24/7. I climb trees, watch horror movies and even dig into food without a care, when our parents are gone. 

It's been 5 months since I haven't been able to do any of that. He moved out across the country and even though he comes home every once in a while, mom and dad are always there, wanting to spend every minute with their son. Which is good and nice but it's made things here a lot more boring. Sure I have the parties, I have the brunches, but those are when I have to be the perfect daughter. The perfect lady, someone who isn't me. As I was lost in my thoughts, a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in..." I mumbled, face still planted on the desk, my cheek against the cool surface.

I heard the handle turn and the door open, along with a gasp.

"Oh Elise! Darling, what is the matter?" I heard my mother say, and even without looking I knew her hands had flew to her mouth, eyes wide.

"I'm exhausted." I spoke, still not leaving my position. I was too tired to worry about what she thought at the moment.

"Well dear, that is still no excuse for your poor posture"

I heard her earrings dangle, so I knew she was shaking her head.

I sat up slightly and put my hand on my cheek, turning to look at her.

"Mother, I'm just tired"

My mother was kind of the opposite of me. Her black hair was cropped in a pixie style and she wore a white jumpsuit, along with a flashy teal necklace, white heels and teal dangly earrings. Even though she was in her late 40's, my mother didn't look a day over 35. And no, she had no work done. The only thing we really had in common in the topic of appearances was our green eyes.