Two months of restriction would make any teenage girl go crazy and it is definitely driving me nuts. Here I am, on the last day of my confinement and my freedom so close. Two months without the use of a phone, without the ability to watch TV. And heaven forbid I pick up a book and start reading it because Mama seems to think reading is a luxury rather than a necessity. No music either considering music has the tendency to lift my spirits. Only communication to the outside world these past few long weeks have been through notes between Tristan and I, delivered by Ambrosia. The last few notes I received from him didn't seem very encouraging. Just a few lines of scribble, scribble, "Can't wait til...", scribble, scribble, "See you soon", signed "T-scribble."
"Cherie, I got a note from Tris," I hear Ambrosia's voice try to whisper without too much success.
"Shhh... don't let Mama hear you. You're too loud." But I nod anyway.
Mama chooses that very moment to walk in and gives me one of those looks that says "I know you're up to something. I don't know what it is but I'll find out and you'll be sorry." I sigh as softly as I possibly can because I know the only way I can get the note now is if I'm mean to Brosia. It's a tactic we've used a couple times before whenever the old woman seemed suspicious. I would yell at Brosia and tell her what an idiot she is and that I hate her. My little sister would then turn on the water works and run to her bedroom and slam the door behind her. Mama would give me one of her condescending looks and tell me that if I didn't apologize right now then I'd be restricted to my room for an additional week. I would then go in to make a sincere apology as loudly as I possibly could in case Mama was behind the door and listening. The note would exchange hands and Brosia would wink and smile. Everything worked out. Thank goodness for my sister's love for theatrics.
"Why don't you go get lost, Bros. I can't stand being this close to an idiot."
"Why don't you get lost, Cher... "
"I can't. I'm on restriction, duh. Or are you so stupid that you forgot why I've been home every day for two months."
I can see her lip trembling and the guilt just tears at my heart. I can't stand being mean to her. A tear trickles down her cheek. I nearly forget that she's only acting it out, almost reach out to pull her into the bear hug I usually give her to comfort her.
"I.." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I finally let the words go. "I hate you!"
The little girl's face looks so utterly sad before she rushes out of the room to seek the sanctuary of her room, slamming the door behind her. Mama and I can hear the sobbing. All I can do is stare at the door.
"Go apologize to her or else you're...."
"I know, I know... Or else I'm grounded to my room for a week."
"No, you already are. Congratulations Cheriah. I was going to say for an extra week after that one is up, but your sarcasm earned it for you. Now, go apologize and then go to your room. You're not to come out unless it's time to eat or you have to use the restroom. No games, no books, no paper or pencils."
My mouth hangs open from sheer shock. How could this plan backfire? It's not like I told Brosia I hated her every single day. Not like how my brothers did to me.
"Maybe you should ground Tony and Mitch, Mama... they always call me names. This isn't fair at all."
"You can tell me how to be a mother when you have kids of your own. Now go."
I want to scream at her and call her every name in the book, but I don't. Instead, I flip her off and stalk away, hoping to be ensconced in Brosia's room before the woman realizes I had the audacity to do such a thing. No such luck. Mama reaches out and grabs me by my long pony tail, forcing me to fall backwards to land at her feet.
"I've had enough of you, Cheriah Merrique De'Velvis. Quite enough. Start packing because you're leaving."
"But where am I going?" Tears pool up in the corners of my eyes but I refuse to let them flow, I can't show this woman that she won.
"Tante Sophie's."
"B-but she's in France, Mama. You can't send me to France."
"You want to bet?"
"For how long?"
"Indefinitely. Now go apologize and pack."
