Chapter I: The Headless Cross, page 4Mature

London, present day.

Rebecca sighed as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. No matter how hard she brushed her hair, there was always that one rebellious lock falling in front of her eyes. Not that she should really care. After all, no matter what, with her small stature, shoulder-length black hair, round face, and black eyes like two blots of ink, she was plain at best. One could argue she had graceful manners and her black eyes were actually attractive, she would always be a far cry from the bitchy Donnie Manilow, who always looked like a magazine cover come to life. Nope, she would always be same old Rebecca Hart, the one who cared more about English class than fashion, who never dared to smile because of her braces, and who seemed to have her head in the clouds constantly. She tried to arrange her skirt, and put on her vest. Dark blue vest, dark blue skirt, dark blue stockings... why did those uniforms need to be so depressing? Wouldn't it bother them to put in a little fantasy, once in a while?

Nevermind... the uniform kind of fit her school days: dull and boring, with her only comfort being her two friends who helped her survive the day and the Stephen King novel she would lose herself in right after her homework.

"Becca ?" she heard her father call. "Breakfast, sweetie, hurry up or you're gonna be late !"

Abandoning her gloomy thoughts, she left her room and went for the kitchen to help herself with a bowl of cereals. She said hi to her dad as he passed by, who was so busy knotting his tie he just mumbled an inaudible answer. The telly was set on BBC News. Yup, just another dull morning. She tried to watch the news so she could at least pay attention to something. Same old stuff about the economic crisis, financial scandals...

"... In the wake of the Prime Minister's speech on financial responsibility, an investigation has been opened on allegations of financial fraud by the investment firm Hall Ltd., allegations fully denied by the executive board. We have attempted to collect a comment from Hall Ltd. CEO Miss Lucy Rofocale, but to no avail..."

On the journalist's words, the camera was showing a pretty middle-aged woman in strict business attire, who kind of looked like Monica Bellucci with her tall stature and long dark hair, as she was walking from a building to a car, coldly ignoring the reporters asking questions around her.

"Is that your boss, Dad?" Rebecca asked.

"What ?" he turned towards the telly. "Oh, yes, Lucy Rofocale."

"She doesn't look very nice..."

"I can't tell, sweetheart, I've never met her. She's chief executive and I work in the HR department, you know, there's no way I could meet her in a company so big. But from what I've heard, she's quite a female Gordon Gekko..."

"Gordon who?"

"Oh, that's right, you've never seen that film. Well, she's a shark. People like her don't care about being nice, they care about being rich." He cast a quick look at his watch. "The bus will be here soon, you should hurry."

Rebecca complied, she gulped down her remaining cereals, grabbed her bag, and after giving her dad a quick kiss, she left their small third-floor apartment and ventured into the streets of Richmond-upon-Thames, shuddering as the chilly November air attacked her.

The End

2 comments about this story Feed