-*| The Cursed World |*-

Chapter One: Mother

(Four years later...)

I sit on a small stool, in my mother's bathroom. Everything inside here all holds a very light color. From the flooring, to the walls, to my mom. Then I look in the mirror, and see myself.

I look like my mom. I have her high cheekbones, her structure, and her light complexion. However, I also hold these harsh, yellow eyes. I never thought they suited me, and maybe were someone else's that were placed onto myself.

Then, there is my hair. Unlike the rest of this room, and this house, it is dark. Like a shadow, that clings to my head. It's so pretty, though. I like to play with it, and wrap a strand of its silky texture around my finger.

My mother, Fauna, ties my dark hair into a small bun. She pulls a dark cap over my head. I giggle — I look like I'm bald!

"Mom, what are you doing?" I ask; still giggling. I tilt my head to the side, but she quickly fixes it back to its original position.

"Well," She starts, "Your father is coming back from his long trips that men take. He doesn't like your... darker hair, and since this is your eighth birthday, I'm giving you a new look,"

"But I like my hair. I think it's pretty," I protest.

She scowls, as she pulls over a brownish-blond set of hair. "Your hair is dirty."

I stay quiet. I'm a little confused on how my hair is dirty. So, she continues to explain this more, "Listen, Hebe, there are white-coats, and there are dirty-coats. White-coats are civilized, and tame, while dirty-coats are ruthless, wild, rabid, and not pure."

I blink at her through the mirror. "But what does this have to do with hair?"

She sighs, "Dirty-coats have dark hair like yours, while white-coats have clean, lighter colored hair."

I stare at her with wide eyes. I'm dirty. She laughs at my expression, and shakes her head.

"So this means I'm a dirty-coat." I mumble.

"No, not really. I'm not a dirty-coat, am I?" I shake my head. "And you're my daughter. So the answer is, not really. By wearing this clean hair, you'll be a white-coat."

"Oh. Okay." I nod and give a little grin.

I play with the wig. It is quite rough and itchy, but I guess it looks prettier than my dirty hair. Although, a part of me really does miss my old hair. However, if it makes my mom and dad happy, then I will change it.

She stares hard at my brownish-yellow eyes through the mirror. She mutters something along the lines of: "I don't know what to do with your eyes though."

Mom has the prettiest light, sky-blue eyes. I've never really seen the sky, as girls aren't allowed outside until they're married off. Even then, we have to stay inside, as we have a domestic role in our community. However, I have seen the sky in some of the picture books I have gotten for my past birthdays.

Curiosity gets to me once again. I remember something about dirty-coats awhile back, when I was really little. I haven't been told too much about that, until now.

I blurt, "Why are there white-coats and dirty-coats?"

She continues to fix some of the darker hair poking out. "Well, we live in our own society on the outskirts of our large, beautiful tribe called Breeze Tribe. In Breeze Tribe there are different ranks on how pure you are, based off of the same traits we use.

We use these traits to differ the more pure people, from the dirty people whose minds are tainted to committing bad actions. However, not too long ago, our tribe has changed, and has become more inclusive. This sudden decision will taint our home, so we moved as a community to save the decency of our home tribe.

I, myself, will state that I was a leader in this action for righteousness. However, as our old ways have stated, us women will take care of the home." I yawned from the long lecture. This was kinda confusing, but I guess it made sense. "That is also why we have more proper names, while a dirty-coat might be named... I don't know, Tree."

She turned to me again; finally done with fixing my hair. "Do you understand?"

I gave a nod and smiled at her, but I am met with a cold, icy stare.