Lullabies

One.

“Grace! Time for school.” my Mother’s commanding voice came floating through the wood of my door like a phantom ghost. I groaned in response, pausing only long enough to tug the duvet up over my ears in a futile attempt to muffle her voice.

Squeezing my eyes closed again, I gripped for the threads of my dream that still lingered in my head. Unfortunately, I was far too awake to fall back asleep now, the strands of my dream turned into fog in my mind and slipped through my fingers. Slowly I sat up, the duvet pooling around my hips. After blinking a few times my eyes finally cleared enough so that I could see the familiar turquoise walls of my bedroom.

“Grace, don’t make me come up there,” she told me, her voice held a tone of warning. I rolled my eyes, slipping out of the warm cocoon of my bed and into the early morning breeze that had fluttered in through my open window.

I yanked the pristinely ironed uniform from where it was hanging on my closet door, courtesy of Martha – the maid. A green post-it was placed directly in the center of the blue blouse. My mother’s perfect print stared up at me; the words from one of her self-help books mocked me. “Be the best you that you can be!” I scoffed, scrunched the oh so helpful advice and tossed it into the garbage.

A quick glance at the clock confirmed that I had just enough time for a quick shower, thank god. After rushing through my morning routine I pulled on my uniform, making sure my blue, plaid skirt hung just below my knees and that all my buttons were buttoned.

I looked myself over in the mirror, once, twice and three times to make sure I would pass my mother’s inspection. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail before strolling out of the bedroom. Rushing past the kitchen, I called a quick “Bye,” over my shoulder hoping to avoid my mom’s scrutiny.

I had the door in my sights, the doorknob just a few steps away from me. “Grace,” I bit my lip. So close! “Turn,” she ordered, I complied. She looked me over with eyes that didn’t miss a thing. She took in my appearance, making sure I looked presentable enough to represent our family before I left the house. “Well, it’s not perfect.” Here we go again; I bit back the sigh that wanted to escape. “But it is close. Did you read the note I left you?” I nodded and prayed that she let me go soon.

“Yes, but if I don’t leave I’m going to be late.” I reminded her, nodding my head to the grandfather clock that stood tall behind her.

“Yes, yes. Of course, you may go dear.” I nodded at her as a way of saying goodbye before I turned and hurried out of the door like a rocket had been lit under my ass.

As soon as I was out of that prison I called home I took several deep breaths. Letting the oxygen fill my lungs and soothe me. After sending a quick text to Hayley telling her to meet me at the by the beach, I started walking down the street with quick strides.

I have to wonder why I don’t believe in love. Maybe it’s the fact that even though both my parents still share the same house and the same bed, they don’t do much else together. I had learned long ago that they cheated on each other – my dad’s credit card bills for singular nights at a swanky hotel a few blocks away from where we lived was an indicator and the memory of walking in on your mother straddling your boyfriends lap is always hard to erase.

But I suppose it would be too easy to blame my lack of belief in what I thought was the world’s greatest myth on my unfaithful parents or my unfaithful boyfriends. I don’t know where this cynicism stemmed from; all I know was that it was rooted deep inside my mind. So deep that anytime I ever got close to guy I ended up closing myself off and dumping them.

As I strode along the promenade I loosened the black tie that encased my neck in a choke-hold worse than the wrestlers I used to watch on television.

I saw Hayley leaning against a red convertible a few feet away. Her newly dyed pink hair was flapping about in the wind; her hands were flying around trying to pat it down onto her head. When she noticed me she raised her hand in greeting before pushing herself off the car and embracing me.

“Nice hair,” I commented, taking in my best friend’s appearance much like my mother does to me. “Is that a nose stud?” I gasped, gaping at the chunk of metal in her nose. Hayley’s family were, as we liked to call them, Crazy Christians. The one time they’d heard Hayley listening to a rock song they’d lectured her on how she wasn’t allowed to listen to “Satan’s Music” and dragged her to church every day for a whole month. Needless to say after that she decided to keep the real her hidden from her parents.

She smirked and pulled the hoop of metal downwards, laughing at my shocked expression. “It’s fake,” she explained. “The hair isn’t permanent, unfortunately,” she continued, her voice taking on a gloomy tone.

We both slid into her car after that. I pulled the hair tie out of my hair and shook it out until the curls were flowing over my shoulders. I made a few adjustments to my uniform – popping a few of the top buttons open, yanking my skirt up a couple of inches and draping my tie around my neck so that the knot which had previously been choking me lay just underneath my chest.

“God,” Hayley grumbled her eyes on me as I smeared some red lipstick onto my lips. “I wish I had your effortless beauty.”

I gave her a grin before we both recited the line that my mother always said whenever anyone complimented my looks. “Oh, it’s all in the genes.” With that we sped off towards our school, the wind whipping our hair behind us.

What started off as a normal day was about to become the day when my life changed, for the better or the worse I don’t know. I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.