There are many quotes in life about how you should be who you are because life is too short. And to do what makes you happy. But sometimes we compromise our personality because we fear the judgment of others and we fear there actions. We compromise our happiness to the extent that we no longer know who we are, and were lost. But is that really the right thing to do?
Cleo
"Before we leave detention, why don't we talk about why the four of you are here in the first place." Mr Utley announced. A man who was extremely old. The clock got closer and closer to 4:00pm, signalling that they could be free from school. A fetter that denies them the right to be who they want to be. The teacher pointed at Jax. "You start." He said and took a seat.
Jax looked around and nervously combed his hand through his jet black hair and his azure eyes made contact with the teachers. He took a deep breath in. "I'm here because I refused to take part in physical education." He then rested his face on his hand.
"Physical education is good for you, especially since we are at war and we need strong soldiers, not lazy teenagers who wouldn't last five minutes!" The teacher bellowed.
"I'm not going to war." Jax stated as if he didn't care what anyone thought. The teacher stared at his white feather that he had pinned against his chest.
"The words of a coward." He said frustrated.
"What about you Kace, why are you here?" He questioned Kace, the quietest boy in school. The other three students turned to the back of the classroom to stare at Kace. Knowing that it was his first time in detention.
Kace looked around the classroom, and clutched his emerald necklace, which are the same colour as his eyes. "I didn't pick up the rifle." he said quietly.
"Another coward in this classroom. We need brave strong men on that battlefield." The teacher said.
"I have a scholarship to the university of Notre Dame. I'm going to become a doctor. I don't want to waste my life by dying on a battlefield." He stated loud and proud. The teacher nodded.
"Cleo, why are you here?"
A girl with long blonde hair, that very badly covered a bruise on her cheek , looked directly into the teachers eyes. "I shouted at the teacher for telling me to shut up and listen." She said with no hint of remorse or sadness in her voice.
"My heavens. Ladies do not act like this." The teacher bellowed. Before Cleo could say something back the teacher spoke again. "You come from a rich and very praised family, so you cannot afford to act like a barbarian."
"You're encouraging boys to go to war, how am I the barbarian?" Cleo retorted.
"I will not have you speak to me in such a manner of disrespect young lady. From now on in all your classes you will behave and not say anything unless you are told to so... Do you understand?" Cleo just shrugged and leaned back in her chair as if she had heard this speech a thousand time.
"And finally Beatrix, why are you here?"
"Because i beat all the boys at football." She said.
"Madam, these boys are only sixteen. And you should not be socialising with the opposite gender. Have you no shame?" He assulted her with this statement. But it meant nothing to her. "I hope you all have learnt your lesson and walk out of this classroom having changed your personality." The teacher said and allowed them all to leave.
Cleo walked into her home, which was colossal and immediately came face to face with her grandfather. "It is 4:15... Where have you been young lady." Her mid raced with excuses but she knew he would find out if she were lying as he would ask everyone in this town and they wouldn't dare lie to her grandfather.
"I was in detention." she said and stared directly at his eyes. His nostrils flared. He struck her across the face. She bit her lip as she so badly wanted to shout and scream at him.
"You bring shame to our family. You are not a boy! You cannot act like one. You are a lady and you will do what your told from now on. Do you understand?" Cleo said nothing. Her grandfather struck her again. "I said, do you understand?" Cleo nodded her head as she knew if she said anything it would lead to her screaming. "Good, now go get dressed into lady like clothes and help your mother make dinner."
Cleo stared at herself in the mirror. She hated what she had on. A dress that covered her entire body. And it was so tight. Her hair was tied into a bun and it was impossible to walk in the shoes she was wearing. she struggled to breath as the dress wrapped tightly around her stomach. She started walking down stairs and into the kitchen were her mother was.
"Hello dear." Her mother said. Her mother was extremely tall. But did not have a backbone. she remained quiet and pressured Cleo to do the same.
"Hi mom." She said back.
"Dinners ready, go set the table." Her mother said handing her utensils.
Cleo rolled her eyes and sighed. She walked to the table were her grandfather was and started placing the utensils down. "Do not slouch!" The man yelled. Cleo inhaled sharply. and stood up straighter. Her mother walked in with there food.
After there dinner which was ate in silence, Cleo's mother asked to speak to her in private. "What do you want?" Cleo asked.
"That's exactly it. You have an attitude. Get rid of it." Her mother scolded her.
"I thought as a woman you would get it. Aren't you sick of being some sort of inferior being." Cleo stated.
"What are you talking about?" her mother asked her.
"Everyday I've been told what to do, what to wear, how to behave. Where as, boys get to do what they want and be what they want and get jobs and don't have to worry about staying out late or dressing in uncomfortable clothes. When will it end. When will I get to be me." Cleo snapped.
Then her mother did the last thing she thought she would. Her mother struck Cleo across the face. "You are to never raise your voice at anyone ever again." Her mother stared at her.
Cleo ran to her room, took of her shoes and sat on her bed. A tear escaped her eyes and she suddenly wiped it away. Telling herself she couldn't cry or else they win. She couldn't cry or else they are right and she is just a girl who can't take care of herself and has to shut up and listen. She stared out of the window as she contemplated weather or not to go to the underground rave or not, were she would be with people like her. But she was too emotional to leave her bedroom. She then noticed the drawing on her wall. Of her and her best friend. His name was Samuel and he was gone. His father forced him to go to war. And one day she saw officers outside her house. And Samuel's mother had informed her that he had died. The one person she needed. The one person who understood her.
"How could you Samuel." She whispered. Tears streaming down her face as she clutched the drawing to her chest. "How could you leave me... I don't cry very often but, I miss you Sam. And I'm mad. I'm mad because you broke your promise. Your promised me that you would never leave me and you're gone."
She wiped away her tears. She got on her knees and reached under her bed, getting out the bottle of alcohol. Trying to forget he ever existed was hard to do. But if she was drunk it would make the pain go away for a while. She knew she was allowed to cry over the death of her best friend. But she never cried in front of anyone. Because she never wanted anyone to think she was just an ordinary girl.
YOU ARE READING
Rebels in disguise
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