The Imperials

School

Mymoonah POV:

"But, I don't wanna go to school!" I wept tears of bitterness as mommy cajoled me vigorously to undertake the worst expedition in the journey of human lifetime.

"Sweetie, you have too." Mommy cooed sympathetically, pulling me in for a hug as I dozed off in her arms again receiving a dozen of feathery kisses on my face.

"I don't wanna face Musa, il m'agace. (he annoys me/in French)." I cried, rolling away from her arms and snuggling closer to my pillow all while with my eyes. Never will I ever face school again until I hear the glad tidings of Musa departing elsewhere, away from the city, or at least away from my sight.

"Il ne vous ennuiera pas. (He won't annoy you)." Mommy said, untangling the blanket that bound me like a strained rope.

"Oui (Yes), he will. You don't know him!" I swatted her hands away stubbornly with my eyes narrowed.

"Sweetie," Mom sighed, switching back to English. "It doesn't matter, but you have to go to school." Mommy pulled at my arms, and I pulled them back to myself hiding my face on my pillow.

"Non (No),"

"Now!"

"Non (no),"

"Hurairah," Mommy screamed with frustration, barking dad's name who was somewhere in the house grumbling to himself about his annoying life. "I need help!"

"I am not helping you with that daughter of yours." Daddy shrieked back through the walls that barricaded us apart. "Your daughter, you do it. I told you kids are nightmares, should've listened to me beforehand."

Mommy sighed. "Mymoonah, please don't give me a hard time. S'il te plaît! (Please). Just get up darling, please!"

"Fine," I grumbled with a scowl, aggressively shoving my blanket away from my body and letting myself get roughly whisked away by mommy who led me straight to the washroom with the tug on my arms. On my way, I bumped into Halima who happened to glare at me icily like the usual. 

After completing my business, mommy entered the washroom with my toothbrush. "Say "eee"!"

"EEE!" I screamed, closing my eyes and clenching my teeth out for her to sharpen them clean. Mommy immediately stuck her brush in, and shoved it up and down harshly down my poor gums.

"Geez, Safoora. Chill, her gums are going to bleed!" Daddy entered, taking my toothbrush away from mom's hand. "You can go, I'll handle her." He pecked her head, as mommy brushed past us with a frown etched on her face.

"Guess I am a nightmare, huh?" I asked loudly to the mirror, diverting the question more to myself. I stared at my haggard reflection in the mirror-- my blonde hair poking out everywhere like a caveman, and my mouth foamed up with toothpaste and dripping down my chin. Eww!

"Yes dear, you are a very bad nightmare for mine." Daddy noted, slowly stroking his way up my teeth as I patiently clenched my teeth ouf for him to brush it for me.

"Can I spit out everything now?" I finally asked with my muffled voice that was blocked by pounds of toothpaste.

"Yup," Daddy nodded, stroking my tresses with affection as I spat down everything on the sink. "But, this nightmare is a bright one."

I nodded nonetheless. 

Daddy pulled me in my bedroom at last and ordered me to get dressed. "Do you need help?"

"Nope. I'm a very big girl, not a two year old." I argued defiantly, closing the door on him and picking out my dresses for school myself.

"You are two." Daddy voiced from the other end of the door. I rolled my eyes. When will daddy ever learn that I was almost nine soon, and I still never bought my shoes from the baby section like the last pair of shoes he bought for me that only fit two of my two nails instead of my entire feet.