I awoke to the dreaded sound of Father yelling at Mother. He must have been out drinking. Roger, my little brother, came walking in, his head hanging down, and his arms were wrapped around my little sister, Daisy.
"What's wrong?" I asked pretending to not have already been awake. "Father's shouting" Roger muffled.
"Don't you think I know that? now come over here" I demanded, irritated. Roger walked over, trying his mighty hardest not to make his slippers slide along the floor. Daisy's brand new nightgown was shining like she was an angel in the dark room, I turned on the lamp, giving the room a now warm radiance.
Daisy got on the bed and snuggled into my chest, not saying a single word. As silent as a mouse.
Roger let out muffled sobs into my pillow, making it damp, but I didn't mind, I was too afraid of my father and what he would say next.
"that's it woman! I'm sick of you going to all these prestigous get together with these blooming suffragettes!"
When I heard that, my heart sank.
For once, my mother had a rebellious streak in her normally goody-two-shoes personality.
She was a suffragette!
YOU ARE READING
Deeds Not Words
Historical FictionMarigold Aldaine, a teenager living in the Edwardian era longs for a life where she and all the other women get the right. The right to be able to vote. She lives in a wealthy household with her little sister, Daisy and little brother Roger and she...
