nerissa noble {d1 - cb - fin}

I am not a puppet.

My father wants to control our future. He thinks I am meant to cook, clean, and serve men like my mother does. I love her because she respects my interests, but she's submissive. You might as well cut her tongue out and call her Avox. What kind of life is that?

I'm sorry, but that isn't me. I shouldn't even apologize because I'm not actually sorry for how I feel, I'm just used to apologizing for every mistake my father points out. "That isn't how a lady should act, Jasmine," he says, as if he doesn't realize I'm not a lady and I'm not my twin sister. He thinks we're a single mind in two bodies, but you won't find Jasmine in my garden planting roses and sunflowers. Only I do that, but he doesn't take the time to know us. We're property.

His idea of a woman's life is boring. I often wonder if he notices the very distinct bored expression on my face whenever he's lecturing me on women's duties. I don't care. I'd rather think about my next lesson in career training. He would likely die of a heart attack if he knew we could sport tight spandex outfits and sweat in the training center as they teach us how to skewer torsos and splice limbs.

Even better, he should see the short, "slutty" dresses I wear to parties. He should see how I drink vodka like water.

Problem is, I have a "boyfriend" to hold secrets against me. He's a rich boy with no personality, but he can be clever. I deal with him to keep his mouth shut. I'm always subtle with my displeasure; I frown at him when he compliments me, and utter one word answers when he asks questions. I'd rather watch paint dry than have sex with him.

If anyone thinks I'm going to marry him, they've got another surprise coming.