The Georgia Rule

Chapter One

        The incessant tapping on my window was becoming more and more unbearable as it slowly pulled me out of the midst of my dream. With a groan I sat up, only half conscious, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Squinting my eyes, I tried to adjust them to darkness of my bedroom, and slowly padded my feet across the soft, plush carpet. I pulled the curtains aside with haste, flinching in preparation of the harsh morning sunlight, only to realize moments later that my attempts were in vain.

The rain pelted mercilessly against my bedroom window, and thick, dark clouds were heavily draped across the sky above, blocking any possible sign of sunlight. Down below, I could see the tarp covering the swimming pool, meaning that my father had already prepared for the downpour, as usual.

Flinching as the cold air pricked at my skin, I hastily shut the curtains and turned to go back to the warm confines of my bed. I tapped the home button of my cell phone for a quick time check to estimate the amount of hours I had left before beginning my morning routine and hissed as the harsh, artificial light assaulted my face. After nearly dropping my phone, my eyes had finally adjusted, but not before I noticed three large, worrisome digits that managed to fully shake me out of my stupor.

It was 6:27 am, nearly an hour later than the time I usually woke up.

Panic bubbled in my system as I hurriedly ran through the steps I’d have to skip in my morning routine in order to arrive at school on time. Running towards the door I flicked on the light switch and bolted towards my closet. Times like these I really regretted having such a massive closet.

       The closet itself was about half the size of a regular bedroom, and was my favourite place in the house. I took pride in the way it was designed to mirror the interior of a shopping centre, with the ceiling being divided into two to meet at the highest point in the room, akin to a triangle. Tall custom cabinets framed the interior, housing my meticulously placed clothing according to dress codes, drawers that revealed sections of jewellery collected over the years and at the very centre, a rounded revolving podium that displayed my shoes. More or less, my closet was every fashionista’s wet dream.

Completely disregarding my organization skills, I tore through the silver hangers in search of my school uniform and blazer, and carelessly plucked a pair of pumps off their display, knocking a pair of Jimmy Choo’s to the floor in the process.

Dumping my outfit on the bed, I made my way to my ensuite and allowed the warm water to stream down my body and successfully coax me into slowing my pace. Thankfully I had already washed and dried my hair the evening before, and all that was left to do was to curl it lightly. I tugged a hair tie onto my wrist and switched on my curling iron, leaving it to heat up as I threw on my school’s mandatory uniform of a crisp, white, short sleeved button up shirt and dark blue skirt and the matching blazer to keep me warm.

On a normal day, I would have been able to leisurely perform my daily tasks given the extra hour, however today I was forced to do them at a slightly quicker pace. If I hadn't been hurrying to perfect my Literature assignment just a few hours ago, I would not have forgotten to switch my cell phone to loud and my alarm would have awoken me at its designated time.

After curling my hair slightly, I slipped my feet into the pair of nude pumps, grabbed my usual purse and dropped my cell phone inside. Scrambling down the stairs, careful not to plummet to the bottom with a slip of my heels, I bolted for the door, thankful that I wasn't the slightest bit hungry as I skipped breakfast, but not before my mother made me halt in my tracks.

        “Why in heaven’s name are you causing such a ruckus at this ungodly hour of the morning?” called my mother from the dining room, behind the morning’s newspaper, a cup of steaming hazelnut coffee in a travel-proof mug to her right.