I’m lying on bed with my leg propped on the other. When my mother throws the door open and starts hailing nonsense about my clothes.

I look down at myself and roll my eyes. A deep red sleeveless top and leather pants in a similar colour cling tightly on my torso. This is the latest fashion in the city of Tawalla, but I’m certain that’s not one of her specialities.

She walks across the room noting how chaotic everything is, but says nothing. I ignore her, busying myself with the sketch in my hand. She suddenly inches towards me, her tiny nose raised in the air sniffing the slightly smoky air.

“You’re high again! How many times should I tell you to stop using drugs?” She shouts. furiously.

“Relax, it’s no big deal, it’s just Yellow Flower and it’s not like it’s illegal or something.  Plus, I need it to focus.” I reply placidly. 

Surprisingly, I’m not shouting back. This is new, I don’t like it.

” Well, as from now on, its declared illegal to you.” she says.

I rise from the bed to stand before her.”Well…you can’t force me to stop, and you certainly can’t force me to do anything, but… you can join me. Would you like to join me?” 

Join me? I frown. Why did I say that? Gosh, what are they adding to this stuff?

She pauses, her brows furrowing  like she always does when in deep thought.
“You’re right, I can’t.” she admits in a surly tone “but I will. You will lose privilege to all your electronic gadgets, each and every time you disobey me.” She  smiles with satisfaction. “Effective immediately.”

My jaw drops. This can’t be happening! She’s not real, she’s not here. I blink  five times just to be sure; yap still here; definitely not hallucinating – shit! 
I stand resignedly watching as she scrambles, disconnects and gathers all the devices in a bundled bedsheet ready to leave. 

My insides  scream foul and I’m simply standing there like a sissy. Am I sissy? No sissy is the male term, what’s the female term? Gosh, uh… “Who the  hell cares!!!” I scream in frustration.

She flinches and drops the bundle on the floor. I shift on my feet and take a step back looking anywhere else but at her. I return my eyes to find her gaze fixed on the link embedded in the palm of my left hand. And I’m instantly alert. My previous disorientation diminishes appreciably. I cross my arms and fix a menacing glare on her. She takes one long look at me and turns on her heels. 

A triumphant smirk forms on my lips.

I slam the door behind her, locking it for good measure. I pace across the room, biting my fingernails, all the while fighting to keep the impending volcano in my head from spewing over. I’m a useless coward, why didn’t I say or do something? I just stood there; like a damn… sissy? She’ll never stop. She’ll never stop controlling me. It ends now! I reach for the closet and pull out my leather backpack . In goes some pants, a couple of t-shirts and a few dresses.

I breeze through the street with my head bowed  down, furiously wiping at the endless tears.

I take a left turn and head to the park. Saturdays are  always packed. A bunch of kids ride on mechanical horses while their parents watch with intense caution. Scrutinising and questioning every detail. It’s been decades since humanoids were first introduced with the sole purpose of replacing and aiding humans in the military. However, they seem to have magically filled every nook and cranny in the society.

I find an empty bench in a secluded spot away from all the throngs of people and immediately plank on it. My eyes shut taking in all the sensations, drinking in the salty breeze from the ocean, the soothing cool caress  of the wind as it whirls around me. Then piece by piece the broken bits of my shattered soul are willed back into one .

After what probably feels like an hour, I quickly grab a cab to my father’s place. He has zero tolerance for tardiness and to piss him off right now is the last thing on mind though I’m silently praying that he’s on one of his long trips to the Eastern Continent. I revel in having the whole place to myself.

I let myself in with the extra key that came accompanied with a set of rules and instructions. Among which are no boys, no loud music, no friends over…  The list was annoyingly endless. 
I have always admired my father’s impressive taste. I lost count of the nights I’ve spent curled up on the sofa with a book till the early dawn.

His living room is fancily done in rich tones of beige and deep red. Two dark faux leather couches, a thick crimson-coloured carpet and the gold curtains to warm up the living room. While the latest model of the stereo and television system rest on a brown wooden glossy stand .

The hot spell in Tawalla is an inferno during this time of the year. Particularly in the evenings. Lasting about six months or so.  Perhaps that explains why the entire city is bounding the Dark Sea.

On nights like these, most residents prefer eating out, shopping and ambling along the mazy alleys of the Archaic Square rather than staying indoors.
The Archaic Square is basically a museum showcasing the lifestyle and anything else involving the Old Worlders. I don’t know what it is but there’s something hypnotic about the Archaic Square that keeps residents coming back for more.

Laying next to my empty dinner plate is my book. I grab it and head to the balcony opening the page where the red bookmark rests.

Halfway through it, a couple of guys from the adjacent apartment make their way to the balcony arguing and laughing about something. I turn my head towards them and my gaze locks on a pair of eyes. I’m not the friendly type, and certainly not the type of saying hi. So I don’t. Instead, I lower my head and take an overwhelming interest in my book.

Almost immediately, two of the guys must have heard something on the television, because they quickly rushed back inside to make some cheering noise. All of them except one. With the others gone, he’s back to his newfound hobby of staring at me. 

I clutch the book harder, and make an effort to read but the words had become blurry letters in a crystal ball. I make myself invisible by sinking down further into the lounge chair, his  burning gaze following every move. Lingering for a little more than I was comfortable with.

A few excruciating moments pass, and I quickly dart inside stopping at the couch to contemplate about the mushy events. My cheeks heat up, and a stupid grin creeps up on my face. No! I wipe it off instantly.

As much as I’m flattered by his unwelcomed attention, it’s simply too unbearable for me. His presence seems to evoke all sorts of things. The fact that some deep part of me finds delight in being the object of his attention. That, is truly unnerving. 
                          *****