The Story of Rain Part 3

Darius and I stared at each other and I said, "No. I can't do it." I started walking away and he grabbed me and spun me around, his eyes bright and wide, just like my father's had been whenever he got passionate about an idea or concept. It broke my heart seeing that the only trait given to Darius from my father was his expressive eyes.

"We will die unless you do it. Please! What's to lose? You're too poor for any man to marry you and we'll die in the upcoming winter months unless we get an income. Please!" He said, sounding more desperate and scared than determined. I looked at the floor, his boots had holes in them and my shoes were ruined from every kind of manual labor it took to survive without money to provide.

"What about mom?" I asked quietly, we both looked out the window. We could see her hugging a blanket to her chest, staring out into the distance, her face revealed nothing but emptiness. I felt guilt twitch in my chest and I said, "If we do this, I'm not saying I will, but if we do, we need to think of a cover story for my disappearance." Darius said, "What if you fell in love with someone who wasn't considered a man and ran away? All kinds of those go to the country to live with family. Mom would go along with it, and she would say you were a nephew, that had traveled here. It would be simple enough. We don't need paperwork, like the old days." I snapped a look at him and scoffed. He didn't even remember the old days as well as he was making it sound. He only remembered the stories we told him.

Darius rushed up the stairs and came back down, a piece of paper was in his hand. He looked at me and quietly asked, "Do you remember this?" I took the paper and it was something I had written. I knew what was on it, but I didn't want to admit it. I shook my head and he smirked and said, "Typical woman." I snatched it out of his hands and said, "This coming from a boy?" The instant I said it, I regretted it. His cheek was still bloody and his arm was bleeding. He looked at me, no tears in his eyes and said, "Read it." And he walked outside to our mother. I watched him through the plastic. He looked like a man, but his tattoo said he was never a man nor would he ever be one. He was cursed to a life without marriage, without love and without honor. A life of no respect or hope... I felt tears well up in my own eyes. I wiped them and looked at the paper; 

Life does not follow the rules of society. Equality exists because we have to create it. We must step up and become what we want to be, otherwise society is living our life. I will be the first of many to step up and say, "This is my life and no one will tell me what to do with it."

I walked outside and my family was sitting together, sharing a blanket. They looked like war victims, and they were. I looked at the end of my hair, It was still wet from the morning, I hated having long hair, but my mother insisted that it would attract men and get me married and into a safe home. They looked at me...

I smiled and said, "Bring me the scissors... I'm going to take control of my life."