Breaking Free

Chapter One: It's All Harper Lee's Fault

I nervously bit my bottom lip, playing with the cross-shaped pendant that hung from my neck. The shimmery red dress that I wore hugged my body, cutting off just above my knees. My dark hair had been intricately braided and pulled back into a bun-type hairdo, with a few strands loosely curled and framing my face.

I glanced in the mirror at my makeup. Tricia had done an amazing job. Silver eyeshadow covered my eyelids, and my normally dull green eyes were ringed in black eyeliner, making them stand out and seem to sparkle.

Pulling out my phone, I quickly checked the time. 5:53. I had seven minutes. I slipped my phone back in my pocket, the silver bracelets on my wrist tinkling like wind chimes, as I sighed mentally preparing myself for this.

My first performance. Ever. This was HUGE. The show had sold out.

But this isn't making much sense. Let's go back to where it all started.
*****
"Becca! Get up! You're gonna be late!" my mom yelled up the stairs. I let out a groan, rolling over and fumbling in the darkness for the switch on my lamp. I pressed the button, sitting up and rubbing my eyes as light flooded my room, before reaching for my glasses. I glanced at my alarm clock and saw that I'd overslept by 15 minutes, giving me 30 to get ready for school. I think I could manage that.

Stretching my arms above my head, I walked over to my door, yelling "I'm up!" and going back into my room to search for an outfit.

As quickly as I could, I got dressed, pulling on a pair of dark, bootcut jeans and a forest green sweater. Then, I began the search for my combat boots. Once I had located them under a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the room, I made my way into the bathroom.

I brushed my hair, such a dark shade of brown that it was almost black, and let it fall in its natural waves to my waist before pinning back the sides with bobby pins.

Then, I moved on to my makeup, applying a little mascara and light lip gloss, calling it done. I didn't wear a lot of makeup, but it was usually because I didn't feel like putting in the effort.

Now fully ready, I grabbed my backpack from nest to my bed and hurried down the steps, nearly tripping over my untied shoelace. I'm such a klutz.

Mom heard me coming, as did Katie, and they both looked up from breakfast in time to see me almost face plant. They shared a look and then burst out laughing, faces turning red. I just glared at them, snatching a piece of bacon from Katie's plate as I walked by.

"Hey!" she shouted, surprised for whatever reason. I just smiled sweetly at her and took another bite of the stolen food.

"Want it back?" I asked, licking one side. She made a face, disgusted, and shook her head. I shrugged, turning to get a cup from the cabinet behind me. "Suit yourself," I said, pouring myself some coffee from the half empty pot. I reached into the fridge, grabbing the French vanilla coffee creamer, and then added some into my coffee along with some sugar.

Taking a sip, I sighed contentedly. Some may call me a caffeine addict, by I didn't care. I loved my coffee.

Mom rolled her eyes at me, sipping her own coffee.

"Hypocrite," I mumbled, just loud enough to hear.

"I heard that," she told me, not looking up from her book.

"You were supposed to," I retorted. She looked at me then, and I held her gaze for a second before we both dissolved into a fit of giggles. Katie looked between the two of us and sighed.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," she stated as she got up from the table and headed for the stairs, putting her dishes in the sink as she passed by it.

"Don't talk about Dad and Toby that way!" I called after her. She just shook her head and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I giggled at my dumb remark, finishing off my coffee. As I placed my dish in the sink, Mom looked up at me.