Deep End

Throwback 1

I still remember the first time I decided I was done. I was thirteen. I fought with my mother. My mother is an amazing women who can only relate to half of me so I hide the other half and then she gets angry because above all else, she values honesty.

Well, I value not being judged by her.

And she definitely would have judged Eric.

Eric was seventeen and was the human version of a lion. He gave off a tall impression, had eyes such a light brown they were almost amber framed with black lashes, and an immaculate jawline\cheekbone combination that he purposely kept shaded with the slightest hint of a beard. He also had three earrings and one eyebrow ring.

I think it was the eyebrow ring that did it.

We still lived in that old mansion back then, decorated like it was a Middle Ages manor. There was a balcony from my room, and that was where Eric and me had been kissing when my mom walked into my room. She was not supposed to be home. Then again, I was not supposed to have a boyfriend.
I still remember how many steps it took for her to get across the room. The first three were fast, the next three were nearly a run. She slapped him. I still blame the ring.

After the awkward breakup in front of my mom, the fighting happened. She was scared for me, I understood that, but Eric wasn't dangerous - well, he was, but I wouldn't know that until later - and I was safe and- and it would never be good enough. Because we were Arminese. A fate I could never outrun, out-rebel, out-kiss. We were part of an organization, a network of people that stretched out into history and tradition and community bigger than my rebellion.

I remember yelling that being an Armini shouldn't control my life, and the judgment and sadness and fight I got in return. I know now that she was just trying desperately to protect me but it didn't stop me from feeling done.

I didn't do anything on the feeling, though. That wouldn't come until later.