Today is the worst day ever.
The young blonde tried to keep her face pleasant and pretty. Expressions such as anger or distress were very ugly, so she didn’t want to wear them. It was proving to be very hard, however, in the present situation. She gripped the stem of her glass very tightly as she sipped some fruit juice and forced herself to smile politely at her lunch companions; her amiable demeanour belying her actual feelings. Meredith wasn’t just mad with her mother right now; she was enraged. Even after countless arguments on the subject, Heather was apparently not going to give up on the prospects of an arranged marriage for her daughter. But Mere had never expected that her mother would actually go to these lengths… Under the premise of a mother-daughter catch up, a supposed olive-branch gesture, Heather had tricked Mere into attending a luncheon with a prospective suitor and his mother. How romantic. She really didn’t want to be there but had little choice if she didn’t want to make a scene and embarrass her family.
Unable to take another moment of tedious small talk with the ugly dullard that was supposed to be a suitable husband for her, Meredith excused herself to the bathroom. Taking a deep, steadying breath she resisted the urge to kick the large and ornate vase of flowers in the corner of the ladies powder room. Proceeding to stand in front of a sink with a large gilt framed mirror instead, she examined herself carefully. Earlier that day, when she had believed her mother came to her with good and genuine intentions of reconciling their differences, Mere had attempted to dress in the way that Heather liked. As such she wore traditional wizarding robes made of sky-blue silk, heavily embroidered in silver thread along the sleeves and cinched at the waist with a matching belt. Her long blonde hair was also uncharacteristically bound back in an elaborate bun. She looked every inch the prim and proper high-class lady her mother wanted her to be. Simmering with resentment, she reached into the folds of her robes and pulled her wand out from a hidden pocket. A quick flick of the wand released her hair and the long blonde curls fell freely over her shoulders and down to her waist. Sighing, she gripped the edge of the sink with white-knuckled hands. I really don’t want to go back out there.
Meredith loved her family, even her mum (sometimes), and knew she was very privileged, but sometimes it felt like there were too many strings attached. After just one more year of schooling she’d be completely at their mercy; a prospect that both excited and chilled her. Mere would love to design brooms, she’d been dreaming of it for years, but it seemed that if her mother had her way then Mere would go straight from graduation to walking down the aisle on her wedding day. It made her feel trapped. Considering past events, Mere was not about to lie down and let her mother make a prisoner of her again. Gathering her composure and her courage, the seventeen-year-old considered her options. The small bathroom window briefly held some appeal as an escape route… Yeah, that’d make a great headline for the Daily Prophet. But she quickly reconsidered doing anything so indecent. Ultimately she decided that the simplest solution was the best. She would just go back out, say a polite farewell and leave. If Heather didn’t want to make a scene herself, there would be very little she could actually do to stop her from leaving. Right?
Steeling herself, she strode back to the table and quickly executed her plan with as much grace and charm as she could muster. Turning on her heel before anyone could react, she continued her stride right out of the hotel restaurant. She resisted the urge to look back, wanting to keep up an appearance of complete confidence, so it was left to her imagination to draw up a picture of her mother’s dumbfounded face. It all went very well, considering, and she even made it to the bustling London street before Heather could catch up. After feeling proud of herself briefly, Meredith was yanked back to reality by a firm hand on her shoulder and her mother’s stern demand to know just what in the name of Merlin she thought she was doing. Temper flashing white hot, Mere whirled on the other witch and screamed that she was going to do whatever she wanted to. What proceeded then was a very unrefined (and regrettably public) shouting match between the two women.
All attempts at logical arguments devolved into insults and unkind words were said on both sides. Meredith’s points were largely:- “You don’t own me, mum!†and Heather’s side rested principally on:- “I just want what’s best for you!â€. Ultimately both witches turned their backs and stormed away, neither one quite feeling like they were the victor in the altercation. Battling back tears, the blonde tried to make her way down the street, only to find that it was rather crowded. It seemed that their fight had drawn quite an audience. “Oh Merlin!†She exclaimed out loud as she looked around at the gaping faces of the public. Thinking more clearly now that her anger was dying down, she was mortified to consider how badly she and her mother had just behaved on a busy London street. Unsure whether it was just paranoia, she thought that maybe she had even seen a camera flash? “Oh Merlin!†She repeated to herself. This incident was sure to be embarrassing later.
Today is the worst day ever.
She pushed through the crowd, just wanting to get away. She wished so desperately that her father or brother were here to help her. Or anyone really that would be on her side. A friendly face of any kind would be welcome. Where was a hero when you needed one?
@Egan Enders
