cast l.h

week five part two

¨I still can't believe they are actually coming,¨ I spoke softly to Shyla while setting the dining room table.

It is Sunday night and Luke would be arriving from picking my parents up at the airport within the hour. ¨Don't you worry darling, everything will go fine! There is no reason to be nervous!¨

THERE WAS EVERY REASON TO BE NERVOUS I want to shout, but instead bite my tongue. I hadn't seem them in over a year. They hadn't visited me once while I was imprisoned. My mom sent me one letter around the holidays, which I ripped up within seconds of receiving; and my father had called me twice, on my birthday and when he was drunk to tell me how I ruined his life.

Lovely parents... and they wonder why I am so screwed up?

Once I am done setting the table, which I had to redo twice... (who knew their was a proper form for utensils), I run up the stairs taking two steps at a time; still wondering why I needed three different spoons. My room is a complete mess, clothes sprawled on every surface. I ran to my vanity and threw off the pair of ripped jeans covering my makeup.

The mirror reflected a very frantic looking girl. The curls I had attempted to do early this afternoon had fallen into sad looking waves and my makeup-less face appeared as a crazy zombie. The clock read 6:34 meaning I had at least half an hour longer to prepare to see them.

It seemed like no amount of time would be enough though to face them. We never had a good relationship. In school I was first too ¨unsocial¨ and then an ¨attention whore¨ according to my mother while my father just complained about how kids were money pits. I was never just right in their minds.

Maybe my mom was right though... about being an attention whore. All the bad things, the tough girl act, it was all to stick out in my family. I just wanted to be seen.

¨What am I doing,¨ I groan as I place my head in my hands dragging the skin up and down.

I drag myself to my bed and collapse doing my best to avoid a panic attack. Why was I so afraid? I don't need them so why do I care what they think of me?

I eventually pull myself from panic mode and steady my breaths. I go back to the vanity and apply makeup. Instead of my everyday swipe of mascara and blush, I apply my makeup the way I remember my mom told me looks best. Foundation, blush, black eyeliner, lots of mascara, deep wine colored lipstick.

¨You'll never be successful if you look like a ghost,¨ her words danced in my mind. My eyes found the girl in the mirror, now seemingly a different person. I re-curled the falls pieces of hair and put it in a low bun to avoid my nervous habit of playing with my hair.

On my knees, I sifted through the piles of clothes on my floor attempting to find anything appropriate for the occasion. Knowing my parents they'll be dressed up, trying to show Shyla that they are something they are not... which is classy.

I give up within minutes, knowing nothing I own will be acceptable. I lay out along my wrinkled clothes and let out a huge sigh. I hear footsteps on the wood flooring leading towards my room, begging in my mind I am not being summoned for dinner.

I am relieved when I hear Shyla's sweet voice, ¨Oh goodness you aren't even dressed?¨

I laugh sounding a bit insane, ¨Nothing I wear will be good enough.¨

She smiles and sits down on the bed, shoving aside some clutter. I look over at her to see the perfect image of proper. Her hair was done in a bun and she looked radiant in a red dress that fit her small form perfectly.

¨So you're just going to go in your birthday suit then?¨ She laughs.

¨I'd say better than nothing but....¨ I snort in return.

¨I bet Luke would like that,¨ she jokes which in return I throw a pillow at her shouting EW.

¨But in all seriousness, you know... I may have some of my old dresses from when I was your age in the attic if you want to help me come find them¨ Shyla said sounding deep in thought.

¨You think they'll fit?¨

¨Oh honey, take me back 30 years and I could have been your twin.¨

I smile and follow her up two flights of stairs the the dusty room. She pulls a string and the pitch black room turns into an antique store. Trunks full of objects fill the room with old painting and cobwebs hanging from corner to corner of the room.

¨Woah,¨ I say stepping over what appears to be a dollhouse from the early 1900's.

¨Remind me to remind you to clean this out!¨ She laughs.

¨Gee can't wait.¨

¨Ahhh here we are,¨ she beams while tugging out a huge wooden chest. The chest is a beautiful cherry wood that still gleams in the light. She undoes the clasp and opens the chest. Inside are plastic bagged clothing labeled by year.

I sift through the bags wide eyed at the fact she kept pieces of clothing from every year in her adolescent life. ¨You must think I'm crazy, but I just really like saving things that remind me of special memories.¨

I look over to her, smiling as her mind wanders through old memories. Her hands finally pull out a bag labeled 1983. ¨Oh god, not the 80s...¨ I shout grasping my chest in exaggeration ¨anything but they 80s!¨

In response she breaks out in hysterical laughter, ¨I know I know they were bad, but I remember I bought this beautiful emerald green dress and I think you would look beautiful in it.¨

She pulled out the piece of fabric she was looking for and handed it to me, surprisingly it was really beautiful. ¨I love it,¨ I say sincerely.

¨Damn right you do,¨ she winks ¨now go put it on. I have to go get a bottle of wine from the cellar and I'll meet you in the kitchen. God forbid I try to make it through the night sober. Oh and while I'm gone don't freak out.¨

¨No promises,¨ I mumble as we walked down the stairs.

She stops and turns to me, ¨If it helps, I haven't seen your father in 12 years.¨

I didn't respond because what do you say to something like that... All I did was nod and run off to my room to throw on the dress. As I zipped up the dress and looked in the mirror I was surprised. My fingers trace over the small silver locket on my necklace and I decide not to wear it, it may bring up bad memories.

My nerves subsided as I reminded myself they probably feel the same.

What's that saying again? The snake is more afraid of you than you are of it?

... or something like that.

A/N

haha i thought the last sentences were funny. ok vote and comment maybe?

ily

Jo