Page 9 of Dissent

“Respect is a lesson that can be hard to learn for the dim-witted,” she cut in. Standing tall, she ran a finger across my dresser. “A lesson that I will continue to work on teaching you as best as I can.”

I shut my mouth and averted my gaze to the floor, bowing my head, “I’m sorry, Mother. I only—”

“Don’tcall me that,” her voice sliced through, stern and sharp. “Let it slip again, and you might find yourself with more than broken fingers this time.”

My heart skittered as I wrapped my fingers into themselves in front of me, hiding them from view. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.” I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, but felt a sense of relief when her attention shifted away from me.

“Chelsea, such a misfortune for you, my dear, to be cursed with that mess of hair. It also seems that those unkempt curls are a perfect representation of your intelligence, for I don’t think I have ever had the displeasure of meeting anyone who cannot seem to dress themselves properly.”

I glanced at Chelsea. Her hair, though in the bun as required by all maids of the house, looked as though she hadn’t even bothered to brush it. Ringlets stuck out, loose hairs dancing in the air, and a lopsided bun was evidence that she couldn’t have cared less. Her uniform, a long-sleeved, full-length black dress with a white apron, was wrinkled as though it hadn’t seen an iron in all its life.

“No doubt your inability to dress yourself played a role in your Initiation assignment as a maid.” Belinda inhaled deeply, causing her nostrils to flare as her eyes pierced through the redhead. “Of course, it still baffles me why you were given such an honor as to be placed inmyhousehold.”

I reverted my eyes to the ground, wanting to draw as little attention to myself as I could. It didn’t work.

“Of course, a maid is only as competent as her mistress. Come now, Mara, do you also suffer from a lack of intelligence?”

I winced, closing my eyes. “No, ma’am.”

“Look at me when you address me, Mara.”

I gulped, lifting my head slowly, eyes catching the look of disdain she didn’t even try to hide. “I…I said no, ma’am.”

And then I saw it, the shift in her eyes, like a predator locking sight on its prey. “Perhaps if I punishyou, then you will be more motivated to instruct your staff in proper dress and manners. After all, I am not nearly as forgiving asyou. Isn’t that right?”

My eyes opened wide as the image of the basement flashed through my mind, causing my heart to pound. And then I felt it—desperation.

“It’s not my fault,” I began defending myself. “I’ve beentryingto tell her, but she doesn’tlistento me.” I was pleading now, and as much as I hated giving Belinda the satisfaction of seeing me squirm, I didn’t want to get locked in the basement. Not again. Not after the last time. I couldn’t…Iwouldn’t. My survival instinct kicked in, and I did the only thing I could think of topossibly—justmaybe—save myself. “I-I think she’s doing it on purpose,” I accused, pointing at Chelsea.

A devilish smile crossed Belinda’s rosy lips. “On purpose, you say?” Her attention shifted back to the maid like a raptor. “I see. Well, we can’t have that, my dear, now can we?”

I stole a glance at Chelsea. Her body was stiff as a board, but her eyes slid to meet mine, and they spoke three simple words:I hate you.Although she had been driving me crazy ever since she was assigned to me, I couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt.

But Iwarnedher.

Itriedto get it through her head that she had to shape up. It wasn’t my fault…was it?

Belinda lifted her arm, pulling back her sleeve to reveal her sleek, black mini-tab attached to her wrist. It was the latest and most advanced smartwatch technology and everyone in Telvia was required to have one. Pressing a button on the side of the device, she spoke into it, her voice syrupy in its sickly sweetness. “Joseph, our newest help needs some correction, it would seem. She will report to you momentarily. Could you take care of it for me?”

“Of course, mistress,” a voice reported back.

“Thank you.” Her smile deepened as she returned her attention to Chelsea. “There we go, my dear. All taken care of. We will have you presentable in no time at all. Report down to Joseph. He will assist you in your…reeducation.”

I watched as Chelsea’s rebelliousness faltered, overcome by fear. She glanced at me again, but I couldn’t hold her stare this time. I looked away, unsure of what I was feeling. All I heard was her whisper an acknowledgement to Belinda, and then her footsteps walking away.

Cautiously, I looked back to my stepmother. She gave me that same devilish smile as she arched a manicured eyebrow. “Don’t be late for dinner tonight.” I gulped. The eyebrow slid back into place and she left my room. A few seconds ticked by when a gentle ache stung in my chest. I exhaled, realizing that I had been holding my breath. Slowly, my heart rate returned to normal, and the fear seeped out of me, leaving me exhausted once again.

5: Dinner

Ihateddinner.

One would think that if you ate nothing, you would stop with stupid stuff likedinnerorlunch. But Raúl always felt that maintaining these routines was important for Telvian families. “Dinner time is family time,” he always said. So, there we were, just sitting and staring at each other while we swallowed our nourishment pills. The long dinner table offered me some comfort, though, since it separated me from my parents. Jacob and I sat at one end while Raúl and Belinda sat at the other. Once Jacob completed his Initiation, Raúl insisted he sit at one end of the table, across from him, as equals. Of course, theyweren’tequal, but it was as close as anyone would ever get.

“Have you completed your Initiation Application, Mara?” I looked up from my hands to my dad. Raúl was an elegant man, with mocha colored skin, deep brown eyes like mine, and dark brown hair that had become salted over time. In his younger years, he was clean shaven, but with age, he started sporting a short, well-groomed beard. He believed it made him look more trustworthy and wiser. He was the epitome of the phrase ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’ Everyone in this family was regal looking. It fit that Raúl was President of Telvia, Belinda the wife, and Jacob the heir to the presidency. I was the only one that didn’t fit, and I never would either. I blinked quickly to snap myself out of my thoughts.

“Uh, no, not yet. But I still have time before it’s due—”

“Of course not,” Belinda interrupted. That sickly, syrupy tone was back, nauseating me already. “Come now, my dear, how do you expect to amount to anything in this life if you aren’t proactive?”

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