The Wrong Time

"Victoria I'm not going to say it again I simply cannot." "Oh what kind of man are you? To deny me this, honestly!" She stomped her foot in frustration as I grined at her. "Well apparently not a very good one. Although, I doubt that's true to anyone except you." At this she threw the dress she was holding in my direction. Contrary to popular belief ladies clothing is not light. I barely manage to dodge the heavy bundle of excess fabric and calmly make my way over to my chair. "Why can't you just do it this once? I'm your sister and I can't exactly go alone. It would be so scandalous mother might actually have a heart attack." "How tragic that would be." I mutter under my breath as I slump down and look up at her, meeting her amused gaze. "You can't say things like that." "Dear sister the walls may have ears but they do not have mouths with which to tell all they hear." A smile tugged at her lips though she tried to keep a stern expression. Neither of us were particuarly fond of our mother and often enjoyed the mockery of her power over us. Which by this point was might as well of been non-existent. "Look, I can't go by myself and going with you would just be embarrassing. I need a wing woman. Besides," she sat down beside me, "no one will be able to tell. You could pretend to be one of our cousins, Lord knows we have so many no one would even question it." She did kind of have a point there. But I was no closer to changing my mind about this. "Vicky I am not dressing up as a woman to go to some stupid ball with you only for random men to try and dance with me all night whilst I feel utterly awkward about the whole ordeal." She rolled her eyes at me in exasperation before jumping up and crossing her arms in front of me. "Fine brother dearest, you cab spend the evening all alone with mother. I'm sure she'dlove to spend so quality time with her only son." I immediately glare at her and fling myself out of my seat. The mother card is a low blow. I point my finger at her acusingly and grit my teeth. "You win this time sister mine, but you shan't be so lucky next time." She presents me with her sly grin. "We shall see, brother mine." And with that she turns and strides out of the room, riding her wave of victory. I follow her, muttering profanities under my breath and cursing her future husband to as ghastly as her personality is. She may look sweet, lovely and perfectly ladylike on the outside but I swear a demon lives inside the empty space where her soul is supoosed to be. This wouldnt not, in any sense of the word, be a pleasent evening for me.