Not What's Desired

CHAPTER 1: JUST THE SAME ROUTINE... KINDA

I wake to the familiar sound of shuffling feet.  I lift myself up with a grunt of pain and rub the sleep from my eyes.  I swing my legs over the side of my small bed and stand, going through the same routine since I was eight.  Somehow get out of bed.  Put on my standard uniform.  Eat only enough to get through the day and walk to work.  It never changes and it never will.

I pull my white leggings over my pale legs and slip on my knee-length powder blue skirt.  I button up the matching shirt over my white tank top.  My three roommates, also sisters, do the same around me only with different uniforms.  I slip past them and walk down the narrow hallway.  I enter the bathroom and turn on the rusty sink.  I let the water run for a second before splashing some water on my face.

I look up at the mirror and stare at the girl looking back at me.  She has a slim frame with a decent-sized bust, little curve, and no muscle.  Her strawberry blonde hair looks tired and tangled.  Her pale skin is covered in ugly freckles and dark bags hang under her eyes.  Her light eyes look dull against the powder blue uniform.  She isn't ugly, rather unmemorable.  But I will always remember my bland face. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a small body that pushes me towards the counter.  "Excuse me, " The small girl says as she digs through one of the drawers next to me. 

"What are you looking for Elfa," I ask kneeling down to my eight year old sister's height.

"I need to put up my hair, Mrs. Vera yelled at me yesterday for having it down," she explains grabbing a hair tie and attempting to put her tangled hair in a bun.

I grab a hairbrush and pluck the hair tie from her wild mane.  " Come on Elfa, let's get out of everyone's way," I say taking my little sister's hand and leading her back into the older girl's room.  I lift her up and set her on my bed.  I set behind her with my long legs on either side of her small body.  She plays with the tangle of sheets in her lap, while I French braid her hair back into two large braids conjoined in a bun at the crook of her neck.

She continues to sit there even though I'm done.  I quickly Dutch braid my hair and twist it into a bun at the base of my head.  When I'm finished I wrap my arms around my younger sister's shoulders. She has the same hair as my mother and clear rosy skin like my father's.  Her green-blue eyes are still alive and filled with curiosity.  She is shorter than I was at her age and she has a skinny semi-athletic frame.  She will get to escape this, she's too good to deserve a life filled with hard work and poverty.

 She leans into my touch and lays her head against my chest.  " promise you'll still... still remember me after next week," She says with a small break in her voice.  Her tone is thick with emotion, but she holds back her tears.  She is so mature for her age.  She shouldn't be worrying about me or how she has to have her hair up for work.  She holds back tears better than any adult I know.  She didn't cry the day dad's best friend told us our father was dead.  She didn't cry when my older brother had to leave for the navy.  She was strong through every heartbreak.  It was as if she knew, our family needed an anchor to survive the sorrow of these past six months.  She made herself that anchor, she sacrificed her youth to save this family.  She will be able to fill my place if I actually do end up leaving, But I know that will never have to happen.

"Elfa,  we both know I'm not leaving..." I start but she interrupts me.

"Promise?" she tilts her head back to look me in the eye.  Her eyes are filled with so many emotions.  Regret, sorrow, longing, excitement, curiosity, hope...

"Yes I... I promise," I say with my voice breaking a little.  I think everyone knows that I'm not going to move up a caste.  We all know... Or at least I know that my life will always be filled with dirty dishes and endless work.  I sigh and squeeze my sister's shoulders.  I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before standing up.  " Come on.  We don't want to be late for work.  I don't want Mrs. Vera yelling at you for being late, " I say holding out my hand to her.