We Haven't Come Very Far {Zakros House Residents}

Everything in Friday's life was really simple. She was brutally honest for the most part, and she wasn't really stuck in relationships. Though, some things weren't actually simple in Friday's life. Her parents were disgusted in her for being lesbian -- which she couldn't help --, she also liked to spread rumors and that got herself into more trouble than it was worth. Life wasn't worth some things, but some things were worth it. Friday always thought being herself was worth it. Time away from her parents, it was definitely worth it. At the moment, Friday's parents were greatly displeased with Friday's 'way of life'. Sure, her parents wanted grandchildren someday, but they should accept their daughter for who she really is -- and truthfully, Friday was not going to change for some mad parents.

When she signed up to live in 'The Malachai House' for a while was to escape her parents, be able to live freely. When her parents drop her off at the mansion, she isn't the first one there. She doesn't mind anyone and she walks in, she notices that almost everyone here is a girl, which is a good thing.

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This place better be good. Well, from the outside, it had an appeal of the other homes my parents owned; all, in which, were quite smaller than our main house. It was charming, I suppose but I can’t help but to think I will suffocate in this place. I cannot even survive in my family’s lake house for a week. It was odd how I used to beg my parents to take me camping or to our mountain home only three years ago. Well, back then, I suppose I was only trying to escape the torment gifted by the other kids of District 1. Now, I have nothing to worry about. I am beautiful and every person I know worships me. Life is good.

For some, the absence of one’s parents may become so overwhelming that one may squeeze tears from the eyes. That is not the case with me. My parents are not around much to begin with; therefore their lack of appearance did not effect me much. A matter of fact, I believe I am not phrased by their disappearance at all. They are spending all this time to gather money as if their were squirrels stalking up for a bitterly cold winter. They buy me whatever I want and let me do whatever the hell I want to do. I am happy.

It was my decision to move into this home. It was awfully boring at my own home. My army of servants cannot even help occupy my time locked in the mansion. They now refused to let me practice hand-to-hand on their own bodies. You break one arm and everybody freaks the hell out. The guy was okay, obviously. He is living it up in the guesthouse for six months with full pay. Oddly, I would think my servants would have lined up to allow me to break their limps. They would no longer have to hear my constant bitching and complaining.

I was already beginning to despise this place simply because there was no person to assist me with my bags and the heavy trunk I own. I did, in fact, have my driver with myself but he was just as small-framed as myself. At least I got some exercise from being a Career but this poor guy probably would crumple from the weight of one shoulder bag. So, basically, I was alone to carry all my stuff. I suppose I could leave one or two bags in the car then come back for them later. However, not only does he have a fragile body but also, the driver seemed as if he was quite ignorant. The stupid man would probably drive away with some clothing of mine. Worse. He could take my curling iron and my make-up.

I shook my head as if the terrible thoughts would be erased from my head. However, I begin to question why I would think something like shaking the head would make thoughts go away. Perhaps I was just as stupid as my driver. A sigh in a deep breath as a way of relaxing. It was yet another ridiculous custom I have heard about. How could the release of a sweet air make someone’s problems go away? It doesn’t. A matter a fact, it is quite the waste of time and oxygen.

My once leaning body rose from the black car’s door. I watched in anger as the driver made his lame attempt to get all the bag from the car. I was right. The driver was weak. Not only was I disappointed in his actions, I was also disgusted in the fact my parents paid for such a pathetic loser. He could do nothing right. He toss my bags upon the filthy ground as it they were potato sacks rather than the high priced luggage they were. I wished to yell terrible things into his ears but I fear I am being watched. I would not wish to make a complete fool of myself.

I have been handled a puzzle to solve. How the hell would I get all my things inside this building in only one trip? I did not want to take two trips simply because I fear that some random person may spot my bags and steal them. Of course, I could ask the weak, ignorant driver to keep watch but I think he’d find a way to screw up even that simple task. First, I grabbed my trunk. It had wheels that can pop from the bottom but fold inside. This way, when it stays at the end of my bed, the wheels would not appear too tacky. The wheels are there for obvious reasons. Like the rolling luggage I have seen before, this particular piece had a hand that folds out of the top. I then place one of the heavier bags on around the handle to wear the bag could rest on the trunk as I roll it. I then took one of my lighter bags did the same. I now have two more shoulder bags whether weigh about the same. I place one to my left then the other on my right. I am steady but I still fear I may fall.

I knock on the door but I don’t bother waiting for a person to answer. My landlord would be expecting me; therefore, why would I wait even longer outside. So, after I adjust my shoulder bag, I open the door and, obviously, I walked in. There was no point in opening a door and not entering. Actually, it was something I would expect my driver to do. He is stupid. Anyways, after I do the obvious walking in, I lay my trunk upon the floor of the room, causing a slight noise to erupt to the room. Perhaps he had some servants of his own that would assist me in carrying my luggage elsewhere. Soon after the trunk made my appearance clear, I placed my shoulder bags upon the floor as well.

I look over to see that a small group of people have already arrived. It was so like myself to be fashionably late. However, I have the slightest feeling this particular group would not know who I was or even give two shits who I was. The thought sort of frighten me. I need praise to live. I need there to be a person to yell me that I am pretty even though I already know I am. I need someone to call me a badass every time I destroy a dummy. I need someone to worship me.

No longer was I looking in the direction of the group but I was now moving toward them. None of the girls quite sparked my memory whether neither made me depressed or happy. There was man, whom I assumed would be my landlord until I decided to leave. Also, a little girl caught my attention. She was so lucky she was adorable. I was not cute at that age. I was the ugly duckling. I did not envy the little girl. Why would I? I should congratulate her young beauty. “Hey cutie,” I spoke to her. “That is quite the adorable dress you have.”

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Perhaps speaking with the little girl wasn’t the best idea I have had. Once the comment spilled from my mouth, the girl grabbed me by the hand and rushed me to the couch to discuss how little boys don’t like her pretty dresses. Well, little boys did not like her me at that age. A matter a fact, they made me cry. I hated them. So this little girl was lucky she was cute. Well, somewhat annoying but she was adorable. I have no further comment on the matter.

I didn’t know how to feel when I realized I wasn’t the last to appear. Should I be happy that I didn’t appear as irresponsible as the other girl or upset that I wasn’t the only person to be fashionable late? A, clearly, fake blonde girl entered the room after me so, I suppose, I was the last to appear fashionable late. There wasn’t anything attractive about the new girl. At least the other blonde hides her dark roots well. The girl with the ugly teeth was somewhat adorable and the other girl that reminded me of a lesser attractive version of myself had long legs. So far, I realized I was the prettiest. It didn’t really surprise me, however. I am quite the looker. I would not be surprised if my new landlord planed to seduce me like many others have failed.

When my landlord was showing me around the “mansion,” I realized this place wasn’t a mansion at all. It was much smaller. I wanted to cry. If he doesn’t have a training room then I might just burst out in tears. My breathing was starting to get heavier and I figured I might pass out. The walls of the narrow hallway was constricting around me. Who knew the death of me would be something without a blade. However, once we left the hallway, I found my breath slowly coming back.

While we made our way up stairs, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of doors in the hallway. You have to be freaking kidding me. He has to be. A person wouldn’t put an ad in the paper and then expect us to share bedrooms. That would be cruel. But, he then verified that he was, in fact, going to make us pair up in rooms. I wanted to break that door off its hinges. At least punch it and watch as it shatters into millions on tiny, wooden pieces. I was pissed but I wouldn’t dare let my landlord know.

While everyone else were continuing the, what I assumed, short tour, I walked downstairs to fetch my things. Also, this guy angered me with his lack of servants. This also help me verify that this was not a mansion. It was a decent sized home. Once downstairs, I grabbed my trunk and pulled it upright. At the same time, I watched as Malachai and his child going down. I suppose they were going to the kitchen. I shrugged the image away as I began to roll the trunk toward the set of stairs. I was now handed yet another challenge. Why the hell did everything have to be so difficult here?

I pulled the heavy trunk up one stair at a time. The noise could be heard echoing throughout the house. I was hoping he had a servant hiding somewhere that would hear the noise and come rushing to assist her. However, that person ever came. So, slowly, she pulled the trunk up the stairs. Once upstairs, I felt sort of accomplished. Not as if I wouldn’t do this again. I was sure I could. It was more that I did it without the help of others. But whatever. I was still pissed.

I pulled the trunk into the place I would call my bedroom. It wasn’t much of a room. I placed the luggage at the end of the bed I claimed to be my own. I quickly pulled the key to the trunk out of my bra and insert the bronzed object into the lock. Once it was open, its contents were known. Two removable shelves contained my black, training clothing but it was beneath the clothes that is the cool thing. Of course I wouldn’t leave my weapons at home.

I removed one of the shelves and placed it on my bed. In the corner of my eye, I noticed my roommate. So, that was Izabella. Though she was in the room, I began to strip from my clothing anyways. We had to get used to this eventually. I pulled my shirt off, reveling the black bra I has been wearing. I quickly pulled my short bra over said bra. Though we are both girls, I still did not wish to completely expose myself. Anyways, my jeans were the next thing to leave my body. I replaced them with a rather tight pair of shorts.

I threw my shirt and jeans next to my trunk and then quickly returned to look through my weapons for my set of kunai knives. “I’m Tilly if you didn’t figure that out yet,” i spoke as she continued to search her trunk. Once I found my roll of knives, I unrolled them out on the floor for the other girl to see. I placed the shelve back into my trunk and locked it once again. I didn’t wish for the little girl to come across my weapons. I would surely get kicked out of this place if the little girl did. The key was then placed back into my bra. On my knees, I pulled my unrolled knives in front of me. I took one of my kunai and let it spin around my index finger and into the palm of my hand. I rerolled my set, minus the one knife, and rose to my feet. “He better have at least a training area outside. I need to work off some stream because of this tiny place.”