MENTAL
I woke up with a headache. And Emily had already gone. And I was cold and the nightmare had shaken me up into hysterics. I had a quick shower, scrubbing myself thoroughly because I had, evidently, sweat through the night even if it had been freezing. And even in the shower, I could still see the mysterious, discerning eyes that seemed to haunt me.
I didn't smile at breakfast.
"I heard you had a good time", said mom with a loyal smile, moving around the kitchen as she readied my dad's lunch. He was going fishing that morning with one of his mates.
"It was great."
I tried to smile back but I couldn't. I was still quite shaken by the nightmare.
"And..." she wanted me to continue.
My mom was a tall, dark and handsome woman whose face was tense and it was plainly discernible that she was a business woman. Even in her robe, her beautiful, elegant and eternally formal attitude glowed without flaw. Even when she was smiling and trying to be motherly.
"And", I murmured, trying hard to get out of my morning mood. "And... um" it was like my mind was blocked. I craned my head and clicked my tongue, hoping to wake some dead cells from eternal slumber. "And, I think, Dora's engaged."
"Dora!" screeched my mom in delight. She turned quickly to look at me and for the first time that morning, I noticed that she had make-up on. I didn't wait for her to continue before I asked, "Are you going to work?"
"Of course, dear", she said, dismissing the question without taking much thought to it. "And Dora's engaged? To who?"
"Mom, it's a Sunday", I said. I was watching my mom for any signs of nerves, but she still had her composure even when she turned on me.
"What's wrong?" she asked casually.
"It's Sunday, mom. Why are you going to work on Sunday?"
She smiled a warm and calm smile at me. "So that you can go to school and get those good grades of yours", she said indifferently. "And I asked you a question, Jean. Who's Dora's new fiancé?"
"Duncan Fern."
"Oh, he's a sweet boy."
I was halfway to my room when she finished the sentence and noticed I wasn't there anymore. I banged the door so that she would here it and notice that there was clearly something wrong, but she never came up. I sat on my bed and stared into the mirror, wondering why everyone kept saying that I looked like her.
We both had our dark skin, mine being just a little bit lighter, and we both had short, sleek hair that went crazy with humidity. But apart from the usual, I looked liked my father. I had his chubby cheeks and his dark, blue eyes. I tried to have with humour but I ended up being almost as calm and serene as my mother, so I quite. I settled on both, not wanting to turn into a copy of my mother.
I never wanted to go to work on Sunday.
I sighed. I didn't look like my mom and so I didn't have to worry. I was Jean Verns and I was not a copy and paste section of my own mother. It almost made me smile to think of myself like that.
"Jeanie! Hey, Jeanie!"
Dad's loud, booming voice sounded enigmatic through the corridors. He almost sounded enthusiastic but I knew he was trying to hide it. he had found out about something and he only called me Jeanie when he seriously was going to ask me to do something that I clearly didn't want to.
"Yeah, dad?" I asked, walking out of my room. "What's up?"
He was in a pair of worn-out jeans and a big, grey t-shirt that proclaimed 'I am the BIGGEST FISH IN THE OCEAN! Come get me!' He stood next to my mom who was in a lithe, black suite with a cup of coffee and he was looking very energetic. There seemed to be a distinct contract between them that disturbed me slightly.
