Sometime in year 2016...

Art was my life.

The other half of my soul.

The only thing that ever made me truly happy and content.

Without it, my life would become colourless, bleak and hollow.

Without it, I would be incomplete forever.

So how would anyone expect me to be happy when the only thing that gave me a sense of purpose was deemed illegal in my own family?

Why should I be excited about moving to a new place when my only means of expression and sense of direction had been taken away from me?

Just thinking about it clouded my soul with a familiar feeling of misery and pain-of dejection and sorrow. Hot tears had begun to sting my dark orbs, wanting to escape but I wouldn't let them.

So maybe I should just stop thinking about it. Maybe then this lead-like weight which had dropped on my chest since the day art was taken away from me, would be relieved.

Maybe...

"Big sis, isn't our new house beautiful?!" Liliana squealed, rushing past me. Not waiting for me to answer, she twirled around in excitement and raced towards the house. Her blonde hair flowed behind her like an endless river.

She's always had longer hair.

And as much as I loved my little sister, I couldn't help but wonder how she was still able to feel any form of happiness each time we moved somewhere new. But what else should be expected from a six-year-old girl? At that age, there was still so much innocence that even the smallest thing was thrilling.

However, long before arriving at the foreign house that loomed before me, I was sure what I felt at that moment was far from excitement or glee.

Florida, Canada, Australia, Norway, Argentina, Spain, Mexico and now Hamstead freaking London! What's there to be happy about?

The cool breeze kissed my skin, making me shiver with delight as it filtered into my nose, mixing the glorious scent of flowers and cool air.

I could smell different flowers, but a particular scent took over my senses. With only one sniff, I knew what flowers they were-roses.

I looked around, and found that I was right. There was a rose bush next to the driveway.

It was difficult to forget the distinctive smell of roses because every time I had a nightmare, I would wake up still smelling them.

Another part of my life that should be kept hidden but I couldn't help myself. I gawked, captivated by the sheer beauty of these natural elements.

But then a voice in my head reminded me that despite their beauty, they had thorns which would bite back every time they were touched.

Beautiful, but painful...

In all seventeen years of my life, I'd come to understand three simple facts that mean exactly the same:

Beauty comes with pain; joy with sorrow and happiness with sadness.

These words might contrast themselves in every way possible, but they could never exist without each other.

It's just like they say: "Opposites will always attract and likes; repel."

Feeling my eyes begin to water, I inhaled deeper, allowing more of its overwhelming scent to cloud my senses. As always, the scent of roses stirred a range of emotions within me.

A range of contrasting emotions.

One part wanted to rip them out and toss those dreadful plants as far away as possible. I wished they went extinct. If only to eradicate the mix of fear, anger and despair washing over me.

Another part was ready to nurture those plants. Ready to see them bloom until they could no longer wither. Ready to gaze at them for days without moving and wonder how these fascinating plant species evolved into what they are now.

My life had always been filled with contradictory emotions and I'd learnt to accept them. Although I could never understand them.

I pushed away my confusing thoughts and opened my eyes, letting them wander across the area.

Flowers of different shapes and colours surrounded the house with a vast field of trimmed green grass spread across the compound. My heart leaped at how refreshing it would be to create art in such a beautiful environment.

No, focus. Rachel, focus!

My eyes snapped shut as I mentally scolded myself. The reminder that anger should be the only emotion streaming my veins squashed the happiness I felt.

Ridding myself of any type of positive emotion wasn't healthy, but the alternative; far worse-I presumed.

I couldn't allow myself to like anything about this house because, like always, it was only temporary.

Growing up, my books had always been my channel to the outside world. The more I read, the more my desire to attend a normal high school grew immensely. Especially since I'd been homeschooled my entire life. What irked me even more was the fact that Liliana was allowed to go to school.

So why can't I?

We might have been to different places all over the world but I've always been trapped within the four walls of a house-not allowed to fully experience it.

Sometimes, I felt like she was hiding me from something. But what could it be, and why?

"Come on, baby." My thoughts were disrupted by an overly familiar voice, my eyes flicking to Mum who had cradled Lilly in her arms.

"Let's go. We have a lot of work to do today, and I still need to make a phone call regarding Rachel's new home school teacher."

I knew exactly what she was trying to do. That woman wanted me to forget about attending a real school, but I wouldn't!

As much as I loved my mum, this was an age-old argument between the two of us-one I had to win at all cost.

"Princess!" It was Papa James' turn to interrupt my thoughts. "Stop zoning out and come on! We've got a lot of unpacking to do."

He held out his hand, green irises sparkling with so much excitement I had to remember that he was Lilly's dad after all. The only difference between those two would be the gap between their ages and their sexes. They were more than two peas in a pod-that much I knew.

"Come on!" he urged and I placed my hand in his.

Groaning, I let him lead me into the building. The scowl on my features, more prominent than ever.

Welcome home suckers!

The moment I stepped into my new room, a sudden sense of belonging travelled through me. Everything looked the way I would want it to. The way I'd always wanted it to be.

Closing the door behind me, my eyes were drawn immediately to the queen-sized bed.

Holy-

She actually got me a freaking queen-sized bed!

I couldn't believe it.

Remembering how long I wanted a bigger bed, and how I had begged for one, made me emotional. I always fell off my old one while sleeping, and now here before me was this perfect bed; yet it came with a price-one I didn't want to pay.

Despite that, I pressed my hands into the new bed.

So soft...

At least she knew how relevant a good night's sleep was to my existence.

I looked around, noticing that she also had the room painted in my two favourite colours: blue and white. A dressing mirror was directly opposite the bed with a dark blue rug spread in the middle. I still hadn't seen the bathroom, but everything already looked perfect.

My dearest mother was really going all out to get her way. But this was all a waste of time because nothing could dissuade me from the initial mission.

Nothing!

But for now...

A loud sigh escaped my lips as my back hit the mattress, eyes closed. The smell of fresh paint wafted through the air, and I welcomed it with open arms.

Heaven...

"I see you're loving your new room." My eyes flew open in shock to see Mum already seated beside me, jerking my body into sitting position.

A short moment of silence elapsed as we stared into each other's eyes.

"Your bribe is never gonna work on me, Mum," I announced, my voice final and unwavering. "No matter what you do, my decision is final. I want to attend a normal school."

I stared at her, awaiting a response with crossed arms but she said nothing.

I waited. And waited...

A whole minute...

Two whole minutes!

The instant my dark orbs met her determined hazel ones I knew, there was no backing out now.

Initiating Plan B, now!

"Mum, please!" I whined in a child-like voice, silently praying that my charms were still in good working condition.

"It's my final year! This is my last chance to experience highschool. You had yours so let me have mine too!"

She stood abruptly and walked to an open window, gazing out into the compound.

"I've told you so many times that it isn't safe. You could get hurt and I don't want that."

"Oh, come on!" I ran my hand through my dark locks to contain a scream of frustration. "Stop lying to me. I'm no longer a child!"

I took a few steps closer to her erect frame but she refused to acknowledge my presence. "That story's so freaking old Mum, and you know it! If highschool's dangerous then what about college? Are you gonna say the same thing? We both know there's a reason why you make us move every year. A reason why you've decided to keep me locked up forever. What is it, Mum? Tell me!"

Suddenly, she whipped her body around to face me, her eyes wide with something I had never seen before-fear.

What is she afraid of?

I searched my mind for answers but got nothing.

She turned away from me once again, hiding her face so I wouldn't be able to read the emotions clouding her expressions.

"W-what are you saying, Rachel? You know we have to move because of my job. Don't use that as an excuse. You are not attending any high school, and that's final!"

I couldn't pay attention to anything she said because one thing kept on ringing in my head: Mum stuttered. My strong, hardheaded mother who was always in control of all situations had stuttered in front of me for the first time.

What could be the reason?

Before I could start racking my brain for answers, she swirled around and our gazes locked. All the fear I saw before had vanished. She managed to conceal it with a fierce scowl but I knew it was still there somewhere. Her sweaty palms were enough to prove that my thoughts weren't mere speculations.

"It's final," she deadpanned and walked past me towards the door, using her leg to hit an open box which I had yet to unpack.

Oh, no!

All my paint, brushes, and other art materials laid scattered on the floor. I knew trouble was coming.

"Rachel!" She only called my name like that when she was furious. "Why is your room still filled with this garbage?"

When I didn't reply, her eyes slanted into pin pricks, leveling my masked fidgeting form with a withering gaze.

"How many times do I have to tell you that painting is forbidden in my house?"

"And how many times do I have to tell you that painting is my passion? You can't expect me to just give it up!"

"You've always been too stubborn." Her steely gaze pierced into mine but I refused to back down.

"I'm only stubborn for things I love and this is one of them!"

Mum stared at me and I stared back. Silence filled the tense space in the room as we held each other's gaze.

After nearly one minute of such glowering scrutiny, I was getting nervous and wanted to blink, but I didn't. I wasn't backing down on this. She would have to give in to my demands or nothing else!

"Fine! You can do whatever you want."

My mouth fell open. What? Did I hear her correctly?

"Re-really?" I stuttered in utter shock and confusion.

"Yes." My mum's voice was still as cool as ever. "I'll enroll you into a public school since that's what you want."

My heart had started hammering erratically. Could this be real? Was I finally getting the freedom I'd always wanted?

I couldn't believe it. Something must have gone wrong. Mum wasn't one who backed down easily. What changed?

"But I have a few conditions," she said and I could feel a sudden dread streaking up my spine.

"What are they?" I frowned, knowing that this was definitely not going to turn out good.

"You stop painting for good. This includes throwing away that garbage---" My art materials aren't garbage! "---for good this time. You're also not allowed to have any art classes in school."

NO!

"You expect me to give up painting and study science in school?" I gasped.

"Certainly."

I stared at her, dumbfounded. Mum knew how much I loved painting. And she was using my desire to attend school in order to make me give it up? Absolutely not!

I opened my mouth to voice my decision, but I was interrupted by another voice from the door.

"Rachel agrees to your conditions." It was Papa James.

What was he doing here?!

"Good." Mum growled, walking out of the room.

I was unable to form any words explaining what just happened. My gaze drifted to Papa James, who was still standing by my door.

I couldn't believe he just said that.

"Papa James, what have you done?!"

***
So what's your first impression on Rachel and her family?

Go on... Say your mind...

If you're a re-reader then I'm sure you'll notice the difference between this rewritten chapter and the old one. Don't worry, this doesn't change the plot in any way.😁😁

Also the cute banner you're seeing below was made by Special_gemstone. A very talented Nigerian babe that's what she is. Please drop some love for her. 😍😍😍