“If you knew you would die tomorrow,” Jada leaned against the door, unbound hair brushing her hips, listening to her sisters tutor talking to them, “and you only had today, what would you do?” It was 9:00 on a Saturday morning. Why was the tutor over here? Other than the fact that Zora was failing her mathematics classes. But if Zora was the one failing, why was the teacher discussing something almost philosophical in nature, and why was Kayley sitting on the window seat, munching on a brownie?
“I'd go to Disney.” Kayley said promptly, shaking her blonde head so that her ringlets bounced around her pale, pretty face. “I want to see Mickey, and Goofey, and I'd have Daddy get me to the top of Cinderella's castle so I could be like a princess.” She looked a princess, right down to the bright green eyes. “And I would have fireworks, and I would stay awake all night, and when I died, I'd be asleep cause I stayed up all morning.”
“I'd get a tattoo.” Zora said when the tutor turned to her. Popped her chewing gum, twisting the little silver ring on her pinkie finger that Jada had won her out of a little $1 machine one night. A thirteen year old hellion, with bright red hair and her black-haired sister's purple eyes. Her hair was cropped close to the skull; she'd cut it earlier today with scissors. “And I'd get a ride on a motorcycle.” She glared at Kayley, almost daring the other girl to say anything.
Jada snorted from the door, stepping into the library and moving for a bookshelf. Her black silk nightgown whispered around her ankles, the pale violet robe slipping off of one shoulder. “I remember when you asked me a similar question, professor.” the questioning look was answered before the older woman could get the words out. “Except you asked me-”
“If someone tried to kill you, how would you defend yourself.” The older woman leaned back in her chair. “Your father chastised me for making you afraid someone would try and hurt you.”
Jada ran slim fingers over the books. “And I told you?” Did the old woman remember? Jada didn't. Jada had blocked out her answer a long time ago, locking it inside herself so that she'd never answer that question again. The answer had made her mother angry, had upset her father.
“You said that you would take them out with you.” the professor's lips twitched. “You were so young when I asked you that question. It wasn't fair to you. You used to be so cute, and you were so attached to-”
“I remember.” Jada interrupted. She could remember bawling at the thought of dying at the hands of some monster with a knife, leaving her mommy and daddy to cry and mourn. She had been inconsolable for days. The old woman had been her tutor then, and had almost lost her job for asking the question. She'd had nightmares of looking like one of the chickens in the kitchen, trussed up and headless. It was when she'd still loved her mother, not just respected her; back when the lovely older woman would hug her close, not thinking about makeup and crisp clothing. She could remember being tied to her mother's hip, admiring the silk and satin of her fine dresses, the cashmere sweaters. She'd been so proud of herself when her mother had given her a small golden locket with a little pearl on the front. It was her first grown-up piece of jewelry. Jada had been 11, and was going to dinner with her parents. A real big kid dinner. She was supposed to keep some little boy company.
She'd ended up getting in a fight with him when he told her that he wouldn't let her sit on his right; girls sat on the left, only important people sat at someone's right hand. Which was why a wife sat to the left. She wasn't important, but her husband was supposed to be the center of her world.
It was the first time she noticed her father sat to her mother's left. Her mother was on his right.
But that was neither here nor there, not now; what mattered to her now was finding the right passage... From the shelf she pulled without needing to search, the book she was looking for. The Art of War. Expertly, she flipped it to a bookmarked page. 'All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.' Jada pondered the passage, mentally fitting it into the paper she was writing upstairs.
“You were a smart kid.” Zora popped her gum, crossing her legs. The sound of the gum popping dragged Jada's mind from the darkness it had been sinking towards.
“Uncross your legs, Zora. Ladies don't sit like that.” Jada's face was expressionless, the words something uttered in a voice that wasn't hers, from a part of her brain that was automaton, not real. From a part of her her mother had crafted inside her a long time ago.
“I ain't a lady. I'm a hellion.” Zora's eyes met Jada's, something passing between their gazes that made Kayley look confused, neatly twisting her hands in her own lap.
“Ladies don't use 'ain't' Zora.” Kayley's voice was almost as prim as their mother's. “And they cross their legs at the ankles.”
“Why don't we hear your sisters' answer to the question I put forth to you girls.” the professor looked at her eldest pupil, who looked back at the bookshelf, pulling another from it.
“I'm not here for a pop quiz, I needed a reference. My copies of these books are at school.”
“Answer, Jada.” the twins almost chorused the question, glaring at each other before Zora continued. “What would you do if you were going to die tomorrow?”
“....” Jada looked down at the book, considering the question. It was a tough choice. If she was going to die... “I'd make sure I didn't die for nothing.” she said finally. “I'd die fighting. Because if I gave up, the thing that killed me won without any resistance from me.” she shook her head. “I couldn't stand losing. I'd just...” she shook her head, closing the book in her hands. Wordlessly she padded out of the room on bare feet, shutting the library doors behind her. The answer had sobered the twins quickly, and the old professor gave Jada a very solemn look, watching her move out of the room.
“I'd go to Disney.” Kayley said promptly, shaking her blonde head so that her ringlets bounced around her pale, pretty face. “I want to see Mickey, and Goofey, and I'd have Daddy get me to the top of Cinderella's castle so I could be like a princess.” She looked a princess, right down to the bright green eyes. “And I would have fireworks, and I would stay awake all night, and when I died, I'd be asleep cause I stayed up all morning.”
“I'd get a tattoo.” Zora said when the tutor turned to her. Popped her chewing gum, twisting the little silver ring on her pinkie finger that Jada had won her out of a little $1 machine one night. A thirteen year old hellion, with bright red hair and her black-haired sister's purple eyes. Her hair was cropped close to the skull; she'd cut it earlier today with scissors. “And I'd get a ride on a motorcycle.” She glared at Kayley, almost daring the other girl to say anything.
Jada snorted from the door, stepping into the library and moving for a bookshelf. Her black silk nightgown whispered around her ankles, the pale violet robe slipping off of one shoulder. “I remember when you asked me a similar question, professor.” the questioning look was answered before the older woman could get the words out. “Except you asked me-”
“If someone tried to kill you, how would you defend yourself.” The older woman leaned back in her chair. “Your father chastised me for making you afraid someone would try and hurt you.”
Jada ran slim fingers over the books. “And I told you?” Did the old woman remember? Jada didn't. Jada had blocked out her answer a long time ago, locking it inside herself so that she'd never answer that question again. The answer had made her mother angry, had upset her father.
“You said that you would take them out with you.” the professor's lips twitched. “You were so young when I asked you that question. It wasn't fair to you. You used to be so cute, and you were so attached to-”
“I remember.” Jada interrupted. She could remember bawling at the thought of dying at the hands of some monster with a knife, leaving her mommy and daddy to cry and mourn. She had been inconsolable for days. The old woman had been her tutor then, and had almost lost her job for asking the question. She'd had nightmares of looking like one of the chickens in the kitchen, trussed up and headless. It was when she'd still loved her mother, not just respected her; back when the lovely older woman would hug her close, not thinking about makeup and crisp clothing. She could remember being tied to her mother's hip, admiring the silk and satin of her fine dresses, the cashmere sweaters. She'd been so proud of herself when her mother had given her a small golden locket with a little pearl on the front. It was her first grown-up piece of jewelry. Jada had been 11, and was going to dinner with her parents. A real big kid dinner. She was supposed to keep some little boy company.
She'd ended up getting in a fight with him when he told her that he wouldn't let her sit on his right; girls sat on the left, only important people sat at someone's right hand. Which was why a wife sat to the left. She wasn't important, but her husband was supposed to be the center of her world.
It was the first time she noticed her father sat to her mother's left. Her mother was on his right.
But that was neither here nor there, not now; what mattered to her now was finding the right passage... From the shelf she pulled without needing to search, the book she was looking for. The Art of War. Expertly, she flipped it to a bookmarked page. 'All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.' Jada pondered the passage, mentally fitting it into the paper she was writing upstairs.
“You were a smart kid.” Zora popped her gum, crossing her legs. The sound of the gum popping dragged Jada's mind from the darkness it had been sinking towards.
“Uncross your legs, Zora. Ladies don't sit like that.” Jada's face was expressionless, the words something uttered in a voice that wasn't hers, from a part of her brain that was automaton, not real. From a part of her her mother had crafted inside her a long time ago.
“I ain't a lady. I'm a hellion.” Zora's eyes met Jada's, something passing between their gazes that made Kayley look confused, neatly twisting her hands in her own lap.
“Ladies don't use 'ain't' Zora.” Kayley's voice was almost as prim as their mother's. “And they cross their legs at the ankles.”
“Why don't we hear your sisters' answer to the question I put forth to you girls.” the professor looked at her eldest pupil, who looked back at the bookshelf, pulling another from it.
“I'm not here for a pop quiz, I needed a reference. My copies of these books are at school.”
“Answer, Jada.” the twins almost chorused the question, glaring at each other before Zora continued. “What would you do if you were going to die tomorrow?”
“....” Jada looked down at the book, considering the question. It was a tough choice. If she was going to die... “I'd make sure I didn't die for nothing.” she said finally. “I'd die fighting. Because if I gave up, the thing that killed me won without any resistance from me.” she shook her head. “I couldn't stand losing. I'd just...” she shook her head, closing the book in her hands. Wordlessly she padded out of the room on bare feet, shutting the library doors behind her. The answer had sobered the twins quickly, and the old professor gave Jada a very solemn look, watching her move out of the room.
