I survived another witching hour. For the Sun had decided me another day as it stripped through my eyelids and to my eyes awaking me. Yes, I know it is not the Sun who decides day, at least according to my family.
A Christian family. A family in which the women, questionable feminists (I am always questioning, another sin to my Sin Book), are nothing more than brethrens. I am always asking my sister, Lisa if we will ever be able to have chance like the men. According to her, "Things are how they are for a reason and by trying to change them, we just expose the ugly truths." A part of me agrees. But then again, that change- by how things are going now- is far from my lifetime.
It is rule in my house that ladies are to be woken earlier than the Wakers. For they are only sent for the men. The women prepare the men for the wakening. Which to me is absolutely absurd that we are to make it certain that the men are prepared for their day as we are NOT for ours. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Which came first, the WOMAN or the MAN? I do not always rely on Christian faith. I too have my questions. (Yet another sin to my Sin Book. I presume it is fit for a throne now.)
On some days, like this one, I am permitted to walk around the house and do my duties in my SLEEP WEAR. Days when mother is gone to market, and Lisa will not tell. Lisa is old enough to be a woman, so I have to watch her moods in order to tell if she will tell on me. She will not tell today. When we have completed our chores we have made it a custom to meet in the living room and overcheck.
"Asha, have you cleaned your bedroom?" Lisa asks.
I answer with a nod of my head.
"Gotten Uncle Bill's shoes polished? Cleaned the oven? Decided the supper? Given Figzee a bath?"
I nodded my head to all except giving Figzee a bath. We never bathe our house cat.
"What?"
She responded to my 'What?' with a smack to my head. We were never allowed to reply with such manners.
"Everything needs to be more than ordinarily cleaned. You may be 13, but that is NEVER the language of a lady! I have never spoken that way and I am 16. We have a guest."
"A guest? In this house?" I questioned.
"Yes, he is a fellow that we both need to know. You mustn't tell-" she leaned into my ear and in a whisper said, "I have been listening to Mother and Father, I know I shouldn't have but I couldn't help myself, and they have been talking of a brother.
"A brother? Of whom?" I ask.
"A brother of ours." Says Lisa. I watch her face light up as it does on certain occasions.
Curiosity spread through my body like a wildfire through a forest. What is he like? What does he like? Will he find me a nuisance like Lisa? I bet he will favor her over me and she will have a companion while I am alone. I suppose it would be selfish of me to wish her lonely and me sociable, but is it really a crime for me to want something of my own? Someone to talk to who is solely for me? A personal diary? Yes.
I could imagine us being best friends. Him and I walking on the playground together and nobody, not even Chris Tupper, would bother me upon seeing him. I imagine him a broad fellow, with the nicest hair and the shiniest boots. But could Lisa have heard wrong? Where would he had come from after all and how are we to be sure he is our brother?
ESTÁS LEYENDO
For the World's Sake
RomanceA baker's daughter fights temptation by her newly found brother as her family becomes more suspicious. Facing no apparent other choice her family decides to bring in another temptation to overpower and win back her sanity.
