Simply Rebellious
A story of love and understanding reality
A story of love and understanding reality
Chapter One
MY NAME IS EMERALD Shasta - a quite unusual name for such a mainstream girl like myself. My friends and family call me Em, though. Emerald isn't used too often.
Roxy's been my best friend since first grade. She's always been confident in herself. She does anything she wants to, and sometimes she wears the most drastically rebellious clothes. Mom says she's always been a bad influence, but I don't believe her. It seems like I don't believe anyone anymore. I've always wanted to be like her, since Roxy doesn't have fears.
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
My main hobby is quoting people. Roxy says it's because I always admire others and want to be like them. If you asked me who my idol was, I'd never finish saying who. There's Franklin Roosevelt, the man I quoted earlier, William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, Madame C.J. Walker, Woodrow Wilson. Those are the top five idols. They have the most magnificent quotes, and Madame C.J. Walker and Miss Dickinson are women of words. Words. I've always loved them. But there are some things I haven't always loved, like the color black.
"Emerald Jane Shasta, you are not wearing that to school!" my mother commanded. Roxy dresses like this all the time, and her parents never care. It's unfair how my mother is acting. It's just ripped black leggings. I don't comprehend why it's such a big deal.
"Mother, you're being quite unfair. I told you that Roxy's parents do not have any troubles with this style," I state confidently to her. I close my green eyes - how fitting - so I don't see the look of pure anger on my mother's face. She always seems exhausted and frustrated. I must be a large cause of that.
"I'm not Roxy's mother! Now, take off those clothes and put on that new dress I bought you a week ago! You haven't worn it once," my mother huffs. She wipes sweat off her forehead as she continues cooking scrambled eggs. The kitchen is steaming, and I feel perspiration dripping down my own forehead.
Roxy would rebel and wear it to school. I'm not strong enough. I nod and go back to my room. Sometimes I feel like I'm close to winning, and one day I'll hear my mother approving of the leggings. But it's not today. I can feel it deep in my heart. Maybe it'll never be the day.
First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you, and you win. Mahatma Gandhi.
I'm wrong. There will be a day when I will win.
I trot towards my locker. It's about thirty minutes before school starts, and Tansy High lets their students talk before the bell rings. I wait by my locker with fear. Roxy told me I had to fight today, and I didn't. I was defeated. Fighting's so sudden now, and when I was fourteen I didn't have to fight to wear clothes. Now I do. Being rebellious is difficult. It comes to Roxy so easily.
War is over... if you want it. John Lennon.
I wanted that war to be over. My head was hurting, and my fists were clenched. I never liked the idea of fighting. But Roxy does, and in order to be her friend, I have to fight. For her. So she may see how rebellious I really can be. However, she will not see it today. Again, that proud, winning day will come sometime soon.
I see Roxy sporting a new gothic look today. It's not ripped jeans or short skirts today. It's simply all black. I see the eyeliner heavy on her lids, the blue eyes underneath gazing at me questionably. Before I know it, she's standing in front of me with a clear, cunning smirk on her face.
"Em, you didn't fight today did you? If you fight and fight, the people around you will become accustomed. Then you won't have to fight. It's like a real war. Once all the bloodshed has been finished, there's no more of it for a long time," she says. Sometimes I think about quoting Roxy in my mind. Except there's always hesitation when I think of doing so. It feels like I shouldn't quote or idol her. But I know I'm incorrect. Roxy's a great friend, and she would stand up for me every day if she could.
"No. I got tired. My mom was tired too, so I just left it," I reply. I shrug my shoulders and open my locker nonchalantly. I look at all of the quotes written on my pink notepad lying beside my mirror. I see my bright green eyes. I know I have seen no eyes like mine before. They're so bright that they will stand out against any color I wear. I can't be fully dark, like Roxy can. I clutch my English and CA History books. They're my first two periods, and after CA History I'll have time to get my Biology book and change into my volleyball uniform. Volleyball's fun enough to get out of the regular, tiring Physical Education classes. But I know for sure our team will never be anything different than just one that never wins in big competitions. I'm in it for the fun of it all.
Just keep taking chances and having fun. Garth Brooks.
I am taking chances and having fun. I'm not doing anything wrong. I hope I'm not.
THIS WILL BE CONTINUED, but it won't be actually finished for a while. Simply tell me what you think below.
