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Forbidden To love, Chapter One
Today was supposed to be a big highlight in my life. My first trip to the flower shop with out my mother or father in attendance. My father did not agree, but mother thought at sixteen years old, that I was mature enough to go fetch a bouquet of roses with the money she gave to me. However, I was not feeling sunny about this trip at all. In the town of Chicago, many people thought of me as a scandal to the humanity.
With my father being a wealthy and respected lawyer, I was expected to be well mannered and well trained, but most would say I was the faithful opposite. I liked to run, and I would do so early in the morning when the sun was just rising. I would fly through the empty streets in a pair of boys’ jeans. I would run for miles and miles, never stopping to look back. The women who liked to natter would get up early with there daughters to watch the “mad girl” dart through the streets.
The girls at school would pester me about it to no end, until they felt they had pushed me too far. They would not want to end up like Lauren with two black eyes, and a broken nose. She had teased me far too much, and had got what was coming to her. I wish I would have no less than knocked out a tooth that would not grow back. She had not come back to school because she was so humiliated about it that she had her aunt home school her. I learned to tune out people at school. I had no friends, and the teachers would not call on me for an answer even if I were the only one with my hand raised.
Nevertheless, I made good grades, the best in the school. I always made the best grade on tests and homework, because I studied hard. What better was there for me to do? During the summer when school was out I worked at a mechanics shop in town. It took me a year to get them to give me the occupation, but I had finally proved to them that I knew everything the men did. I did not need the funds, but it was nice to have; I just needed a distraction from the tediousness the summer brought on me. School would be letting out for the summer again in a week, and I could not wait for the work.
I was always good with fixing things, regardless of what it was. Some people would refuse to have me work on their possessions, terrified that I would destroy it further. When someone cracked a joke about me, I would just roll my eyes, another very unlady like thing to do. But I had friends at the shop. They were all adult men, but they were nice to me when not everyone else was, and they stuck up for me as big brothers would to a little sister. The most recent rumor around town was that they took my virtue the first summer I started working there, and that was the only reason I kept going back. There was also a tale last summer that I was planning to run away with the youngest one, Joseph.
There was not an individual I had met yet that did not think I asked too many questions, or dressed in a way a woman should not. Apart from special occasions, I wore a vibrant sundress and let my hair fall flat on my back. It was lengthy, unlike most women, and because of my clothing habits and hair, I was a social outcast who was looked down upon by others. Today I wore a weightless sundress, strapless, that went to the tops of my knees with my black converse shoes. The sundress was a deep indigo color that looked good with my skin. I did not like to dress in a corset, due to how taut they felt. I preferred to only wear them to parties or special occasions, but I did not like to wear them then either.
No one ever spoke a word to me anywhere, no even at parties where it was only respectful to say hello to everyone present. I would just sit alone and read while others socialized and danced. Most girls my age would have been married and had several children, but not me. I was not only dreadful in the eyes of others, but I was not the best looking either. I had the palest skin anyone had ever seen, and so may thought I was incurably ill. I had always been a pale shade, and I had always been healthy.
I was not terrible looking, but compared to other girls my age, I was undistinguished. I was formless and colorless, and looked down upon by everyone; there was no hope for me. I had never dreamed about having children or a husband, but it seemed expected. It did not matter, because there was no one in the world who would want someone like me to be there wife, when they could have a girl with an hourglass shape and child bearing hips.
I made a decision to sidetrack myself from those thoughts by looking at all of the newly built houses. Most were one story, but there were a few two stories also. I happened to live in a yellow three-story house. It was a rather big house for only three people, I was an only child. Renée had had several miscarriages since my birth, which is why Charlie and Renée were happy to have me. They did not care if people talked about me, they knew who I was, and knew I was too stubborn to change myself.
I was a bit caught off guard when a attractive looking boy with reddish brown hair came jogging out of a pretty two story house with a lovely garden that flowed into the back yard on the other side of the street. He had the prettiest, glowing green eyes I had ever seen. He was probably seventeen or eighteen years old, and he had a muscular build, but not too muscular. I was even more caught off guard when I looked down at his left hand and saw no wedding band. How could a man as handsome as he not be married to a woman just a beautiful? Maybe he is still engaged.
I turned my head the other way as a heated flush invaded my cheeks, if he were looking at me he would see it for sure. I peeked over at him swiftly; he was staring straight at me, of course. A man never noticed me at any time, but at a moment when I was wholly mortified, a very good-looking one was gazing at me with interest in his eyes, probably trying to fathom what I was so embarrassed about.
I looked over at the houses on the same side of the street that I was walking on for a while, until I was sure his house was out of sight. I sighed a thankful sigh and looked to the other side of the road again. I leaped a foot in the air when I become conscious the boy was following behind me at a snail’s pace, not quiet hiding the fact that he looked engrossed in me. He could not possibly care about me, not him. But, he unmistakably had something crucial to say to me, because he was now jogging in my direction with unwavering green eyes.