𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

4

The following Tuesday, Mum comes to visit. Her security for the day is trailing close behind as she walks through the entranceway, Frank, a man who is considerably older, scary looking, and always wears sunglasses. I have no idea why, even when the sun is at its highest, we can't feel it.

"Did you ask Robbie if he can change his shift on Saturday? I want us all to be there for dinner."

"He tried, but he said no one would switch," I reply, wiping down the watermarks from the shower. You'd think with all this technology and advancements, I wouldn't need to do housework. But I don't mind, I like the therapeutic feeling that comes from cleaning. "Why can't Dad just do it the day after? He knows Robbie only has Sundays off."

"You know what he's like." She huffs, glancing at her security. "Frank, can we get some privacy?" He agrees, nodding his head once then closing the bathroom door.

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Mum kneels next to me and starts scrubbing the floor with a wire brush. If my dad were here right now, he would have a hissy fit at her for doing the maid's work.

I refuse to have any maids, chefs, bodyguards, anything that labels me different from the rest of the dome is a no from me. I've been trying to move away from the VIP area so I can at least be a little normal, but my requests have so far been denied.

It's not that I'm ungrateful, but I like normality. I like the idea of waking up in the morning and having my own life.

When I lived with my parents, I felt like I was trapped in a glass house. People judged me based on their wealth and I felt like they watched every single move I made; I know my father did.

He was so strict; I had to ask permission to go to my room when he was home. I was never allowed to stay out late and party or get drunk when I turned eighteen without being questioned, security sent out to locate me, and having Eric breathe down my neck to sober up.

Mum told my dad two days after my birthday that she was taking me to a spa. Instead, we went to Edinburgh. From then on, we frequently went away for spa weekends, making the best mother and daughter memories.

So now, although I'm confined within a blinking dome with limited activities, I feel freer than I ever have before.

"Oh, I bloody hate these things," she says, screwing her nose up at the full-length, panoramic windows. "I still don't understand why we don't have normal ones. They don't do a thing for the environment except have you flashing your neighbours."

"Yeah." I snort. "Dad just wants to make them look fancy and different from the rest of the houses here."

"Well, you aren't wrong. I feel sorry for Mr Berkley, I have no idea how many times that old man has seen my rear end."

I laugh, biting my lip as her face becomes red from her own giggling. "I only have Eric as a neighbour, thank God."

Nodding, she sits back on her haunches. "Then I feel sorry for you. I've witnessed more than enough from him residing with us for nearly six years to know that he is... well, he likes to..." She grimaces, stopping her statement. "Let's just say he is a passionate man with the opposite sex."

"Understatement," I reply.

"Definitely." She quickly scans her eyes over the room and smiles. "All clean."

She fixes her hair, straightens her clothing, and opens the bathroom door, giving Frank a thumbs up and a wink. We both make our way to the sitting room, settling ourselves down onto the couch, putting on Come Dine with Me and re-watching the same four people sitting at a table in a normal home, eating food we haven't seen in a year.