"Rachel, stop fighting me," Brenda told her youngest daughter. Ever since the eighth grade, Rachel had been rebelling against her parents, falling into the Goth crowd. Now, she barely even recognized her sweet little daughter. Okay, it's been a long time since Rachel was either sweet or little, but that's how Brenda always thought of her. But the girl standing in front of her wasn't anything like her. Blue-and-black-dyed hair, pale skin, piercings, black make-up, black T-shirt, black leather miniskirt, fishnets, and black knee-high buckled boots with 4-inch stacks. She looked like she belonged to different planet.
"You can't make me do anything, you ..." her daughter spat at her.
"Rachel!" Brenda yelled, shutting up her daughter. "You're going to do this. Right now! Krista already agreed. She's waiting outside."
"Fine," she grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "But I won't enjoy it."
"Just try to be civil, okay?"
"Whatever."
And with that, Brenda left the house with her two daughters - Rachel and Krista.
A few seconds after they left, the phone rang and eventually went to the answering machine. "Hello? Honey? It's Alan. The meeting just got done. Uh ... I guess you're in the middle of something. When you get this message, call me back, okay? Bye."
