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An uncomfortable Betrothal
I sighed as Clarissa strutted into the room. I can't believe that this is who my parents chose for me to live my life with. Her blonde locks were piled up on her head in a fashion that made it seem that just one more strand of hair would cause her to topple over from the weight. Her snobby little nose was lifted as she walked forward. I bowed slightly and took her hand in mine. Reluctantly I greeted her with politeness. "Hello Clarissa, How have you been?"
"I've been well enough sir." she replied, rolling her small brown eyes. She was always determined to only say what was required of her and no more. The only thing we seemed to agree on was that we would much rather be doing something else. I missed the smooth keys of the grand piano under my fingertips, the rough wood of a pencil as I conjured up and wrote down my song or the dusty smell of the books I so cherished as I read Romeo and Juliet for the third time. None of which activities my schedule had lately permitted. I would even cherish just a small moment to sit in the grass and soak up the sun. But the majority of the past week was spent making arrangements for the wedding, something I was forced to take part of.
Is money really worth making yourself miserable for? What is a new rug compared to an evening of laughter and joy with a person you admire and can confide in? Why must I sacrifice the chance to find someone I want to spend my life with for a snobby, pessimistic little girl who won't even talk to me?
I let out a relieved breath as my mother and father came in the room. My mother, Marilynn, was a slight woman of tall stature. She had big, deep green, smiling eyes. Her curly midnight hair was braided and twisted in ways to create a bundle at the top of her heart shaped face. My father was a bulky man, only a few inches taller than my mother. His short, straight chocolate brown hair was brushed and parted neatly, mostly to one side. She wore an elegant and flowing green dress adorned with black diamonds around the waist and flared sleeves while he wore a white silk shirt under his best jacket and a red pair of trousers.
I smiled as I heard the little padding of feet from behind them. A small round head poppedout from the shadows, blonde curls bouncing as they shimmer in the candle light. A toothless smile lit up the rosy cheeks and a chuckle sounded from my smiling lips as she rans to my arms. I lifted her up and swung her around, causing her to giggle sweetly. At four years old my little sister was as light as a feather and more important to me than anything. "Maxx!" she squealed, grabbing my collar then hanging back, swinging her hair back and forth.
"Be careful Haley." I cautioned playfully. She squirmed out of my arms and I began to chase her but stopped in my tracks as I saw the stern "Stop making a fool of yourself" look in my father's eyes. I groaned inwardly as I realized they weren't here to end my meeting with Clarissa, just to observe. A quick click of impatience emitted from Clarissa's heel and I turned my attention back to her as the night droned on.
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