The Cafe Around The Corner

1

"Sit down, Mia. Father and I want to talk to you."
"Can we talk later, please, I don't feel well."
"Mia. I said sit down" Mia sat. "Thank you"

Mia's mum and dad were sitting on a red plush sofa, velvet (of course) and her dad was decidedly flipping through some financial papers, silver spectacles pushed right down to the tip of his nose.
They didn't seem at all affectionate of one another, her mum's feet propped on a matching ottoman at one end, her dad leaning on the arm rest at the other. In short, their proxemics indicated that they didn't like one another very much.
" Mia, we think it's best if you got married."
"What?"She couldn't believe this. They were talking about it now?
"I'm sixteen, I don't think I'm quite able to make a lifelong commitment." Mia tried to make some fun of this situation, anything just to lighten the opressive atmosphere. It felt so heavy, like the world was resting on her shoulders. No one wants to get married at her age, she's sixteen, she should be going to parties, drinking, getting a boyfriend.

Vaguely, she felt pathetic, she hadn't even had her first kiss for goodness sake. She didn't know the first thing about getting married, she didn't know the first thing about boyfriends. Mia, at her age barely knew anything about normal people, because she wasn't normal. Normal people weren't albino, normal people weren't like her and they certainly knew what it was like to go out on a date.

"Mia, let's discuss this." Her dad crossed his legs and folded up the paper. " We are Russian,we have  Russian money, Russian ideas, thoughts and most importantly," he slapped the newspaper onto the coffee table between them and hissed. "Russian blood, pure Russian blood. Tell me, Mia, are you not proud of your country?"

"I am! But being Russian doesn't have anything to do with getting married!" She was agitated, they weren't seeing her point, they weren't trying to feel what she felt. Mother and father weren't listening to her.
" Mia Rachoski, you do not raise your voice when speaking to your parents. "
" This is important, why can't you see why I don't want to be married?"
Her mother sighed, tapping her front teeth with her tongue. She was irritated, it was easy to tell and also cold. The house was big, and heating was one of the few things that the Rachoski household was not willing to buy for any price.

'we do not need heating'  Mia's dad said with contempt  'Russians are
strong, we do not fear the cold, do we Mia?'

It was because of her dad that Mia wore as many clothes as she could,
Constantly covered her body and huddled under a ton of blankets all year round. Mia could wear whatever she liked , hoodies, jeans, jumper to hibernate in . As long as it was under a Russian name. But in company, formal dress was worn of course: diamond encrusted ball gowns made of chiffon, tulle, silk, net, whatever, all Silvery white to match her hair and skin, violet jewels 'to go with your eyes' , her mother always said.

But Mia didn't have violet eyes, she had heterochromia, one blue and one purple eye. She generally wore an eyeypatch over one of them so that people wouldn't stare at her so much. Not that it helped at all. Mia's biggest dream was to become who she wanted to be, an artist, musician, painter, something to balance her outside appearance, if she looked so strange, she might as well be strange; she thought this daily, but getting married at the age of sixteen was definitely not on her list of things to do before she died. Her life expectancy wasn't very long either, unlike most, she would only live to 30 as the doctors predicted. But Mia refused to think of that. If she was going to die sooner than everybody else, let's live life to the fullest.

A talented musician, a talented artist,  but not a housewife. Never a housewife.  How could her parents be so misunderstanding? How could they strip away one dream after the other so carelessly as if they were peeling an onion? She was their child. Parents were supposed to love their child, to think of them more than money. They were exposing her, forcing her to get married. How dare they?

Perhaps it would of made her feel better if she knew that person, but she did not. So on that day, her mother arranged an appointment with her betrothed ( perhaps to allow her daughter some idea of her fiancé because at the present she knew nothing at all) and shouted at her daughter to dress up in something besides a hoodie.
" No one wants to see a girl wearing such lowly clothes, Mia, remember that."

A few hours later, Mia was done with her clothes, done with her face, her makeup, her general appearance under the critical eye of her mother. Grey tulle dress tucked in at the waist and long straight white hair brushed and silky. A garland made of white roses circled her head. ' there are no thorns ' her mother promised ' they look nice ' and she ignored Mia's comment on how she looked like a corpse bride.

" Nonsense. You look like the respectable daughter of the Rachoski family , as you should be. We do not want to disgrace our family name, now, do we?" oh how dreadfully patronizing her mother was. She felt like a dog, a dog. Constantly belittled or nagged and she could never tell what would happen to her next. Certainly, under the eyes of her mother, she could well be viewed as a dog. Her mother didn't love her, she was a bringer of wealth and prosperity, not someone to be caressed and doted upon.
Her own mother and father were subjects of arranged marriage. Inbreeding between close cousins of the same generation, with a result of an albino child when the genetics fused harmfully together. Mia was constantly ill, forever in hospital with heart pain, short breathing and aching bones. Now she was expected to be a subject of arranged marriage, no matter how she felt about it, it wouldn't change a thing. She might as well go wish to a star. The same outcome was inevitable.

" His name is Levi you know, too German for my taste, but acceptable. He's your cousin, but that can't be helped. The family line, wouldn't be pure otherwise. " Her mother looked over her shoulder "oh for goodness sake, Mia. You are meeting your fiancé for the first time and all you can do is read Harry Potter? Listen to classical music, or at least listen to me. I'm trying to educate you on the importance of a pure bloodline!"
"Mum, you're a Slytherin for sure."
"What? Mia, put down the book."

Mia's mother grabbed the book out of her hands and put it on the desk. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her own dyed blonde hair and black suit dress. She smiled fakely, showing two perfect rows of white teeth and yanked Mia to her feet as the doorbell chimed in a melancholy gasp.

"He's here!" She straightened her back, as if this was her fiancé, not Mia's, and did a final check in the mirror before impatiently pulling Mia towards the door of the house. "Come on. " She turned around slowly, eyes narrowed and spiteful  "and don't you dare disappoint me."

This is the first time I've ever written a story before , hope you like this chapter