The Inadequate Experiments: 1. White Noise [Rough Draft]

Part 2; Inequity - 11. Like Snow and Frost

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, critiquing every inch of skin visible and every ebony hair on my head, followed by every inch of fabric that made up my clothes. Anything to delay the trip. Anything to be late and miss the bus. Anything to ‘miss out’ on sending three nights in a tent with Oliver Jackson.

Grey skinny jeans clung to my legs, making them look twice as thin as they usually would, and on my feet I wore plain black converse. The plain black singlet I wore hugged all my usually non-existent curves, and I suddenly felt a tidal wave of self-consciousness wash over me. What are you doing, Sera? Oliver will see you in this. I thought to myself. That’s the whole point! A small voice in the back of my head screamed. I flinched at my own thought and spun away from the mirror, flinging open the suitcase that lay on my bed before returning to my place before the glass and slipping a jacket around my shoulders.

Straightening the thick material or the jacket and fastening three of the buttons, I scrutinised my reflection once more. If looks could kill, I imagined the mirror would be in pieces on the floor of my room. A look of complete and utter irritation coloured my features at the thought of sharing a tent with Oliver for three nights. A look of complete and utter irritation that had the ability to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. Anyone else would be over the moon to spend three nights alone in a tent with their Soul Mate. But me? I was dreading it more than anything.

“Sera!” Two high-pitched voices yelled in unison. “Sera, you’re gonna be late!”

I sighed; Stacy and Shaunee, ruining my plans as usual. They just announced to the whole house that there was a chance I was going to be late, which snatched away any slither of hope that I could “accidentally” miss the bus. It was half past nine at night; we were travelling overnight by bus, yet it would take most of the next day to hike to where we would actually be camping. I sighed and dragged my gaze away from the mirror in front of me, staring lazily around my plain bedroom before trudging over to my bed and slamming my suitcase closed, zipping it up angrily.

“Fine.” I snapped to myself as I planted the suitcase on the ground and dragged it behind me out of the room, slamming the door despite Hana’s protests.

“Madam Sera, might I ask you to please refrain from—” Her robotic voice began, sounding almost angry.

“Get over it, Hana, you won’t be putting up with me for the next three days anyway. Enjoy it while it lasts.” I snapped back under my breath, knowing the microphones in her system would still pick it up nonetheless. I trudged along the hallway before coming to a dead-stop in the doorway to the open-plan kitchen/dining/living area.

My mother was sitting on the couch between the twins.

Her heart-shaped face was almost as pale as the white leather couch, only a fractional sheen of pink colouring her cheek bones. Her full lips were no longer a healthy pink (to be completely honest, they hadn’t been for a while, but it was easier to imagine her as the healthy, athletic, blonde beauty she had been for the majority of my childhood), but an odd purple-y colour. Her blonde hair that I had always wished for was streaked with grey that shined silver when the light glinted on it. Her skin hung from her bones as if her muscles simply didn’t exist, and when I looked at her eyes I could see the edges of her eye sockets around the blue jewels that I was so used to seeing whenever I looked at the twins. Despite all this, she was still beautiful to me.

She smiled when she spotted me in the doorframe and motioned for me to come over. I imagined she couldn’t talk loud enough to ask me to come close and for me to be able to hear it, but I didn’t bring it up.

“Mum,” I breathed, “what are you doing out of bed? Dr Wills said—”

Mum brushed off my words before I finished saying them. “Don’t worry about what Dr Wills said.” She insisted. “I needed a change of scenery. Besides, I may not be able to drop you off at the bus bay at school, but I can still see you off from the house, can I not?”