Path to Secrecy

Embracing the change

Copyright © 2014 by Shazzaam_

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Wednesday 1st October, 8:00 am

Ever possessed that feeling of falling from a great height in your dream, when in reality you're only half a metre higher than the ground. Then jerking your body as if you'd just been electrocuted?

All the time.

Not only that, ever had the irritating temperature control your body desired. Not too hot, not too cold. Just perfect?

Day and night.

How about when you anticipate for time to freeze over just so you could correct yourself before you re-enter the race against time and perpetrate the 'live life to the fullest' expressions?

From the outset.

I stood in the shower and grimaced at today's schedule.

Work.

Rationally, I dressed into the attire Andrea assembled for me last night. Though I was against all her choices, she eventually threatened to haul my suitcase over the balcony. Pointedly warning me that my new transport was parked right underneath it, from the unexpected chauffeur chores Andrea initiated.

So eventually I agreed.

An ironed, navy blue pencil skirt ending just above my knees and a creamy white coloured tucked in sweater was what we finally agreed on. I shoved my feet into a pair of nude heels and laughed hysterically at my sudden tallness. Despite my natural 5'6 which was already considered a giant compared to Andrea's 5'5, I shrugged.

My hair was something that had always been admired. While my straight ash-blonde hair halted near my waist, Andrea had urged for me to enhance the style. I still remember the memory of her forcefully driving me to the hairdresser's despite my whines. After Jonathon had refused to support me out of the situation, I had ended up with safe highlights and simplicity for not looking way too feminine. Blinking out of my trance, I pulled it into a high pony tail and raked a once over my appearance, chewing the inside of my lip indecisively.

The weather was appraisingly sunny, so I decided against a coat but still debated whether I seemed overdressed.

"Hey mum!"

She'd taken mere second before half yelling with a struggle. "What?"

When I didn't respond and continued to glare at myself in the mirror, she emerged into my room, a questioning stare masking her features. No sooner had she regarded my whole countenance, an impressed smirk fidgeted her lips and she rested her hip against the door frame, folding her arms.

"Do I look, overdressed?" I questioned, tugging on the soft material of my sweater with a small shrug of my shoulder. The outfit laid out last night looked sublime but realising how tomboyish I consider myself in being, the outfit itself seemed out of place.

She arched a brow, before rising her head with a statement of intimidation. "Are you questioning my skills?"

I nodded my head enthusiastically and she pulled off a droll stare, flaring her nostrils in tiresome. "No, but I don't dress like this. You know how I dress." I agreed with a chuckle, before looking back at the mirror.

"Sweetheart, you know the profession you're in requires decent appearance. Your combat boots will no doubt have clients running a mile." She replied like she had enough of explaining common sense.

"Yup." I gazed over my attire once more, throwing on a black blazer that seemed to throw me into the art of feminism. My feet soon throbbed in pain and I plucked off my heels with a kick, preventing to break my ankles rather than the heel itself Without thought, I absently bent over and examined them, wiping off a small dirt stain on the heel. My move practically provoked Andrea to throw a comment with a shit eating grin.