The Red Room

𝕋ℍℝ𝔼𝔼

The women bent over and whispered, "It's fine, get up, I won't tell if you don't." She kept a serious face the whole time.

I swallowed and nodded, then hastily got out of bed and followed her, still wearing my nightgown.

She went to the courtyard outside and there was a small private jet sitting there. We boarded and I was instantly confronted by a man wearing a stripped shirt and matching scarf. "Do you really expect to be a normal teenage American in that outfit?" He scoffed. "I am Norman. I will be helping you with wardrobe everyday. I will also being posing as your father if necessary. Right now you need something way different to wear, same with you Amelia. But Izabella is first. Follow me."

He strutted towards the back of the jet where there was a dressing room. He put me in a nice looking blue top with light washed skinny jeans, they had rips in them which I thought was weird. I thought we were going for popular, not trashy. Holes in my pants would surly suggest that I put them there and that my family can't afford anything else, right? Nope, "They are in style, darling." He rolled his eyes. I was also wearing a shoe by the brand of "Vans" that matched my shirt. "Now that is style!" He exclaimed as he ushered me out of the dressing room and pulled Amelia in.

Shortly after Amelia emerged wearing a normal mom outfit. A horizontally pink and peach striped shirt and khaki capris complete with brown sandals.

"Hey, sweetie." She smiled and joked. Joked?
I stared confused at her. "Oh come on, you don't really expect me to be 'Miss serious brown coat' the whole mission do you?" She laughed. "If they are ever going to believe I am a mother, I will have to act like it, I'm not complaining." This was coming from a woman who had dragged screaming girls out of classes to be tortured. Her cheery attitude was so unfamiliar that it was border line scary.

I remained silent. "Come on, honey, they are not going to accept you as a popular girl unless you get a whole lot chattier." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, sorry, what do popular girls talk about?" I said.

"Beats me." Amelia shrugged.

"Normally about boys." Norman walked out of the dressing room and sat in the seat next to me. "You will be talking about Morgan quite a bit."

"Oh, thanks." I still had a straight face.

"You also need to smile, sweetie." Norman pointed out. "They won't like you if you're always so dry."

"Like this?" I smiled really big and happy, like I had just been awarded assassin of the year.

"Yes, perfect." Norman and Amelia continued to coach me on being the perfect popular high school girl until we landed our jet at a small remote airport next to a corn field.

When we got out there was a maroon mini van waiting for us. I climbed in the back while Amelia sat in the passengers seat and Norman drove; just a normal family. Finally we got to our little home. It was right by all the restaurants, small stores, and other houses so I could quickly get to any social event.

It was a light blue one story house with three bedrooms and three bathrooms. There was a kitchen and a living room with a TV. I got out of the car and followed my new parents into the house. Amelia showed me to my bedroom which had been done like a high school girls. It was all light purple with a matching bed, a white desk and a white shag carpet. It also had a white dresser and whites curtains and a big purple chandelier in the center of the ceiling. I hated that I loved it so much.

My bathroom was also purple themed, apparently I like purple. I opened my closet and there were so many clothes of all different colors. Norman would help me with my outfits for each day since I had never gotten to choose what I got to wear. I closed my door and collapsed giddily one my bed, squealing silently.