Pinky out, Ella Van Tassell whispered sternly.
Sorry, mummy, Adele whispered. She unwrapped her pinky around the china cup's intricate handle.
An old aisha sitting across from Adele chuckled softly and pushed her spectacles down her nose.
Ella, I see you're still teaching Adele our ways, she said cheerfully. Adele will grow to be a fine young kyrii.
Adele looked away.
Ella nudged her. Breaking eye contact is rude when someone is speaking to you, Adele.
With a sigh, Adele turned back to the old aisha and opened her lips into a grin. In her head, she was annoyed that her mother tried to control her every action.
On the walk home, Adele eyed two young acaras playing in the street. One's bib was dirty from rolling around, and the other was picking his nose. His hair was ruffled and rough tufts stuck out in the back. A butterfly fluttered nearby, leading the two acaras to run off in pursuit.
Ugh, Ella snorted. Parents should learn to control their children so they don't end up looking like that.
Adele knew most of the old people at the country club disliked disorder and mess, but couldn't they cut kids some slack? She sighed.
Is everything okay, dear? Ella asked.
I just don't get why we can't have fun like that once in awhile, Adele whined. I always get bored at the country club and all the other kids get candy and ice cream. I have to have tea and crumpets.
Ella looked horrified. You must never think that way. We Van Tassells have started out in an upper class and we plan to stay that way. Running around like savages will embarrass the family line. And besides, candy and ice cream does no good for your health.
Adele let it go. She knew she could never convince her mother to cut her some slack.
Adele never felt happier than when Ella tucked her in.
Adele was snuggled tight under the covers. Her normally teased, long hair was relaxed; it flowed down her pillow and framed her face. Adele liked her hair that way. Sometimes big hair felt too heavy on her head, and fixing it for her reputation didn't seem like it was worth the pain.
She drifted off to sleep as Ella turned on the music box and quietly tiptoed out of the room.
The next day at the nursery, Adele's class took a stroll through the woods with her teacher, Mrs. Poppleberry.
Adele's hair felt especially heavy and made her sweat even more under the blazing sun.
She envied the others around her. They were rich, but not as wealthy as Adele; their hair was not styled as high as hers.
The class stopped at an apple orchard to have snack time. Hoping no one would notice, Adele darted off into the bushes and ruffled her hair. Slowly, the layers of hair broke apart and finally flowed freely around her body.
Adele's headache wore off, but suddenly her ears picked up the sound of snapped branches.
Adele's lost! Adele! Adele! some of the others called.
Oh no, Adele thought. In her rush to mess up her hair, she had completely forgotten that she left her styling kit in the classroom.
Out of the bushes emerged a few young korbats.
We found her, Mrs. Poppleberry, we found -
They gasped in horror. What happened to your hair?
Adele blushed scarlet. Her mother would be furious if word got out that her hair was let loose.
As the rest of the class entered the scene, they began to laugh and tease her.
Their taunts dripped with glee as they found someone to pick on; Adele shielded her face with her hair and ran back home.
Adele was right; when her mother came home from work, her expression was livid.
Adele, how could you?! You've embarrassed us! she shrieked.
Mummy, what's the big deal? I don't understand why everyone in this town cares so much about their status! My hair gave me a big headache and if I didn't let it down, I would most likely faint! Adele yelled back.
Her mother shook her head and stared furiously at a painting on the wall.
I want you to go upstairs and think about what you've done. You won't come down for supper until you're finished, Ella said sternly. Go on.
That was the last straw. Her six years of maturing faster than the other children, and her numerous classes forced upon her by Ella, finally came in handy. Adele was ready to leave.
Adele rushed; she packed her personal belongings, including her music box, into her satin duffel bag she normally used for vacations. She debated on whether or not to pack her music box; she didn't want memories, but the music box helped her sleep at night.
I'm sick of this life, I'm going to live how I want to. Money isn't everything.
Her mind was set on routine as she started packing her hair products. Realizing she didn't need, nor want them, she left them in the bathroom.
Adele quickly scrawled a note, forgetting her handwriting etiquette, and left it on her bed.
She climbed out her window and jumped down, landing in a flower bed. She took one last look at the Van Tassell mansion.
So long, she thought to herself.
And Adele ran. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, as far away from society as possible and off to start her life anew.
After countless searches for a baby kyrii, I finally found Adele. Her name was perfect for her character and I'm glad I traded a baby wocky for her c:
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