Wednesday, December 4th, 2014 3:00 PM
One of my favorite books will always be Vanity Fair. In fact, my namesake – Rebecca Sharp – is one of my favorite female characters. Catherine Earnshaw is also one of my favorites, but that is beside the point.
I guess my mother saw Rebecca as a witty, strong woman who knew what she had to do. I wish I could draw some of her strength. Rebecca’s mother died when she was young, and she lost her father at an early age. She was forced to stay at a school she hated with a terrible headmistress. Luckily, I only have to live with my snooty grandmother in a town that I’ve never been to in my whole life.
The small-but-not-so-small town of New Hampton seemed quaint. Most of the houses on the outskirts of the town were Colonial style, which was attractive. Each house had an acre of land, with perfectly trimmed landscapes and fountains with renditions of Italian statues. The town seemed perfectly scrubbed, polished, and respectable. To be honest, it looked like a retirement compound. I wondered briefly if my grandmother had joined a cult of old rich folk, with the sole purpose of taking over the world.
But that was just me running away with my imagination.
My grandmother shot me a dirty look when I accidentally vocalized my pondering. She assured me that there were plenty of children in this town, and I would be joining them at the Catholic private school. I would be starting my second semester of junior year at a Catholic private school. I am not Catholic. If I had to label myself, I might say atheist. I guess I could be some kind of Buddhist. What goes around comes around, fate works in mysterious ways, and everything happens for a reason, I buy into all that sometimes.
It’s hard to, though, when your family was dead. Which is another reason I don’t believe in god. You can hate me all you want; but to each his own, honey.
My grandmother’s house is unnecessarily large. My father was her only child, and she and her late husband are only children. It’s just her living in that big ass house. I suppose she has maids and stuff like that to help her, but the size is truly uncalled for.
My bedroom could probably fit a family. The walls were white, but grandmother said she would hire a painter to paint it whatever colors I wanted it to be. There was crown molding, and bay windows that had elegant seats on the wide sill. The king sized bed could have fit my whole family, with twelve pillows and a giant, thick comforter. There was a vanity opposite the bed, with a mirror that had to have been four feet wide. Why anyone would have the urge to get such a mirror was beyond me, but the vanity was a nice mahogany, like every other piece of furniture in the room. A dresser with many drawers was next to a full length mirror. The walk in closet could have fit my baby brother’s crib. The space was just so unnecessarily large.
I set a few of my bags next to the bed, and pulled all my pictures from my backpack. I propped the frames by the lamp on the bedside table and took a deep breath.
A few men entered my room, carrying the boxes that held my belongings. I nodded to them and asked if I could help, but they immediately declined. I guess living with my grandmother will afford me the luxuries of never having to lift a finger.
This is not the life I want. I have never had any want for material things, or a big house, or people waiting on me. Call it feminism if you wish, but I quite enjoyed my independence and modest life.
“Rebecca, after you have settled in, perhaps we could go shopping for your new uniform.”
I whipped my head around, barely containing the gasp that tried to escape my throat. My grandmother has a very silent way of coming upon a person. I coughed a little and tried to return her tight-lipped smile. “Could we go tomorrow? I’m exhausted from the flight.” It wasn’t a total lie, I suppose I was very tired from flying, but that’s not why I didn’t want to go shopping. I don’t have a particular aversion to shopping, I shop when it’s necessary, but there are plenty of productive things I could do in my time rather than shop.
Like, gee, I don’t know; mourn my family.
Her awkward smile dropped from her face and she nodded once before striding from my room.
I sighed and fell backwards on the too-big-bed.
