Rebellious Rebellious Veronica

- "Just tell me what I have to do. Just tell me. Please! I-- I don't know... I don't remember anything! None of this nonsense you guys are making me believe.
Maybe, I don't know the rights and wrongs as I think I do right now. I'm begging you, just please tell me, guide me or something! Give me directions. I can't do this on my own."
"Believing what's right isn't enough Vera. You have to remember. Because if you don't, no one will or can tolerate a fake act."


10. Chapter 6

Monday afternoon came like thunder echoing and ringing to the point of explosion. Maybe, it's just our house. And the rest of the world is truly peaceful and calm at the moment.

Maids and servants rushed, and ran around the hallways, that if I tried to take a nap to distract myself, they would just give me nightmares. Their short heels tapping the creaky floors and then in other hallways stabbing the hard, stone floors. I think the men servants don't like it either and maybe there's one in this palace that may share the same feelings as me and who hates it too. It would be a big relief.

If one says that they (the women) haunt their dreams with their huge scowls of disapproval, and who kiss their sweet dulce de leche dreams away, I will kiss them a thousand times, not that they need my kisses. Only thing I can give, against my virtue, that I don't even really care about.

It looks like we need a ceasefire. But, we aren't at war. Or are we?

My little odd life is silly and eerie, I hate it sometimes. No, most of the times. Father is just like me; obviously trying to ignore everything going on around, and it makes me feel bad that he was an expert in it. Since he knows my mother and had lived with her twice as my own age.

Mother ran all around in the house with the rest of them, ordering them, being the boss. Turning tables around, and cows and chickens upside down so they would give their milk and fetch out their little golden eggs. She accidentally sent a tsunami of loose book papers down the stairs, then swimming in her won mess and blaming it to the jaybirds.

She was still in her purple silk robe, her hair still in it's round tubes wires from the night before, trying to get it curly like every morning. I have no idea what was going on. And we didn't question her. I'm not that eager to know, either. We had the dinner tonight, and our trip to to Garna is scheduled for the forth coming night. So I'm assuming mother is trying to get things done with. Sure.

I decided to finally take a stand and block out this chaos, that I call 'killer thunder.' I started in my room from sitting in the living room'a sore bones. I closed my doors, and took a blanket, a green pillow, and a book that was under my mattress to my balcony. I closed it's door, too. Now completely isolated. Not, that anyone couldn't open it, but close enough. Anyway. I laid down my back first. Watching the setting sun through the bars of the rail of my balcony.

I could fall asleep like this, right now. But, I dreaded it, thinking back to the sounds of those pointed spears in the foots, and shuddered away from the thought. Besides, more adventures waited for me and Odysseus. It's one of the only stories that somehow still exist and has survived through everything bad. Through thousandths of civilizations.

According to the Centurie'es our world is suppose to be currently in the thirty-eight century. I think about 3786. I'm not sure, we don't use it anymore. I don't know why we don't, either. Something to do with stolen or burned calendars during the Coup D'États, messed-up computers, and shifting of the earths direction and axis for a few weeks, or something.

I turn around and lean in my elbows, reading once again. This is something else I love. I have to say I am obsessed. Rarely am I. I was born with obsession to stories, father says. There's that small thought though, in the edge of my mind, wondering if the cause was my maids, with their breath taking strategy of story telling, and the great stories themselves. Surely it's their fault.

I read and read, and I haven't gotten much far until, maybe three quarters of an hour, when mother finds me. It's like her stress, anger, and annoyance is transferred into me the moment she looks at me.

"Vera!" Her eye brows crease so wildly, my heart rate increases. "Not that stinking book, again."

"You don't even know which book it is!" I yell, standing up.

"Spend your time with other worthy things you will need!" She yells at me, still with eyes that look concentrated, and it looks like she's going to slap me.

"It's not your business! You don't know what's good for me or what's bad for me."

"Oh, no Missy," she says, as my maids come in. "We are women and every women is the same!"

"Well, maybe I'm not one! Maybe I'm some creature your people would consider a coward. But I don't care! Just let me be. My mistakes will hurt me not you."

"Fine." She says, as she leaves.

Right when I think I can resume to my paradise, she turns around and says, "Maybe, you should go abroad after all." And this time she finally leaves.

"UGH!!!!!!" I bury my face in my hands, at my frustration.

My maids rush to me, after their eyes can see no more of her. Her sight is gone. And that's always a praise for me. She said 'maybe' and I recall that every time she has said that, it has ended up happening. Expect getting a family pet and getting me a flute teacher over the years, but that's the only two out of a zillion.

Right when Pats arms extend to me and touch my shoulders to soothe me, I rush myself out, past my maids. It felt so comforting I might as well just blurt out crying because of the gentleness they were born into.

I run down hallways and hallways. I used to be scared that I would get lost here when I was a little, unless accompanied by my father. My home is it's own kind of maze. But, now I am fearless. I think this changed when I learned how to spell the word and understood it's meaning. No joke.

I ran to the kitchen, and hide behind the wall that divides the hallway and the enormous kitchen. I can see it, the two double doors that hang on the wall, across me. Just waiting to be opened. Only Marta is present, humming as she boils something. She turns to the fridge and gets two red tomatoes. And when she turns to the huge metal saucepan, I tiptoe through the long kitchen and get out of the house, into the backyard.

It wasn't much of a challenge. I didn't want to be seen my her, because if she saw me, she would be a witness when they started to question where I was. I took a good breath, smelling my setting, and close my eyes and smiled. Than my eyes flipped open. I ran past the huge green field toward the walls that surround my house. It's going to be hard to climb them, but no one ever comes here anymore so they don't know how ruined the blocks are.

I grab the brown block sticking out and find another loose block and push myself up, placing my feet on one block. This is insane. Our fight wasn't even that bad for me to be running away!

But, I think it's all I could take. Combining all the other arguments...

I sit on top of the wall and slide my left feet across, like I'm riding a horse. I take one last look at my home from it's behind and disappear. And I fall down the gate.


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