First book in 'My Name' series..
She didn't inherit the 'smart genes' in the family, that was the first reason she was pushed aside. Still Reo struggled to get enough grades, but she can't be smart even after trying. Besides, it'll be wasted efforts...
Dad wasn't joking when he told mom to clean up her face.
Immediately he sent me back to my room, he locked Leo's room door, took the keys to the car, locked another door and he was out of the door. I was waiting for Mom to come back and say something, anything, but she sat on the couch and smiled at me.
Her brownish tinted skin was yellow, the make-up was caked literally and her smile was too wide, but she just blinked, straightened her posture and smiled even more.
"Mom? Are you okay? Won't you say something?" I hesitantly walked to her, my dress was getting tangled on my knees.
"My son isn't feeling too well, forgive his attitude. We called you because our daughter, Reo, is missing. She was a very rebellious child who got pregnant and ran when we tried to ask her who the father was." I froze. She was practicing what she'll tell the police?
It was all making sense bit by bit, they would lie that Reo is missing, but I am Reo, it's Leo who's missing, what's going on.
"I'm back!" Dad said happily and closed the door. He was holding two bags in his hands, a wide grin on his face and a slight jump in his step.
"What's going on?" I ask. "Why are you all so happy? Leo's gone!"
"No. Leo isn't gone. It is Reo who is gone, our daughter ran away because she's a pregnant shameful thing." I took a step back.
Dad placed the white bags on the table. "I bought you a makeover. Mira, come here and help me already."
There was a big scissors. A big scissors and a brown highlighter in his wide palm, he placed it on the table beside the bag and brought out some jeans and vest, a skinny but stretchy looking thing and a MacBook.
He threw the bags on the floor and gestured for me to sit, I didn't know where the courage was from but I didn't. "I said, sit down Reo."
Like a coward, I sat down on the couch away from them all, but that wasn't enough. Dad held the scissors in his hand and told mom to get a bowl of water. I watched them dilute the highlighter and water, then he wore a glove and pointed to the bathroom.
We got in the bathroom, I stood infront of the mirror.
A weak girl with tear stains down her cheeks, who didn't even know she was crying, was staring back at me. Her wide curls bouncing on her neck and lips cracked from lack of moisture.
With a small sigh of pain, I closed my eyes but not before seeing a handful of my curls fall lifeless on the floor and the scissors snap again.
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