BILLIE'S NIGHTMARE

Chapter 2

I dismissed my alarm clock and groaned under my bed covers. I had slept around 1a.m. studying for my upcoming biology exam. It's important that I graduate so I could get into my preferred college and leave this house forever. It's been my dream to do so since I found out that I would study far away from here for the rest of my life. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, but she prefers me wrapped around her finger, cuddled under her wing or drenched in her control while I would much rather just...flow. I want a taste of my own freedom for once.

My parents—well, my mother—has pretty much planned out my entire life. In a few weeks I graduate, get my first car, get into a prestigious college, get married at 20, we get our own place to live and finally have kids at 24. I'm not too eager about it all, but I'm most excited about getting a car. My dream car.

A Matte Black Dodge Challenger. My parents told me if I got straight A's this year, they'd let me get my Dodge. Which is why I was studying my butt off last night. This car is everything I've ever wanted.

I got up and slipped my slippers into my feet. I tried not to drag my tired feet as I lazily made my way into the bathroom for a shower. I let the cold water hit me and kick sleep right out of my tired eyes. Eventually the warm water fell onto my naked body and I relaxed under the tender touch.

As I ran down the stairs, I could hear voices discussing something somewhat important. They silenced when I approached. The last thing I heard was my mother saying, "and she's fluent in 5 languages."

I would've appreciated it if she simply had said, "and I forced her to learn 4 languages." The only language I actually wanted to learn was Spanish and the Castillas contributed alot to how fluent I am. Although, my mother never wanted me to learn it. She wasn't really fond of the Castillas but I had done alot of begging to ensure that I'd spent every Sunday dinner with them.

She and dad were never home on Sundays. If ever they were, I'm sure an earthquake would shatter all of L.A and leave it in crumbs. My father worked for 99.9% of his life and my mother engaged herself in extra muralactivities after church that had to do with her "friends". Honestly, she has way more friends than I do. I have none. All I ever do is read and study. I stopped dancing when I was 13 because apparantly my dance friends were "a useless waste of time" with "vulgar language".

I still blame Katy for saying the F word in front of my mom. It was an accident, but it took away something that I actually loved. Dance was my way to escape and it was the only thing my mom forced me to do that I actually liked.

I looked from my mom, to my dad—who never cared what went on—and then at the two new strangers in front of me. One of them was a woman with red, short hair that touched her shoulders and brown eyes, who looked in her mid to late forties. She wore a long green dress and wedged heels. The gentleman next to her was younger, and had blonde hair and ocean green eyes. He kept his posture straight and his eyes fixed to mine.

He bit his bottom lip as he looked me top to bottom, then top again and kept them fixated to my face. This action made discomfort jolt through me, my body trembling slightly at the unforgettable sight. I tried to shake it off with a soft smile directed to everyone in the room.

"Goodmorning everyone." I greeted.

The woman did the same thing as the young gentleman next to her and scanned me top to bottom. I tried not to look uncomfortable as I kept the smile on my face intact.

"This is Elizabeth?" she asked in disbelief.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" my mother answered pridefully.

"Beautiful? Why, that must be the biggest understatement I've heard in all my life! Christell this girl is a living miracle. Her body is trimmed to perfection, her facial features are sculpted precisely by the hands of the almighty himself. And her hair! Oh, have I told you how much I've always wanted natural blonde hair?"