Cαɾɳαƚισɳʂ

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷?

I waken to the loud yells of my mother, attempting to wake me up. Opening my eyes to a piercing, gleaming ray through the fancy, rose gold curtains. My hands hover over my eyes, blocking off the sharp sunlight that was straining them. I examine the big gold clock to check the time, as my eyes struggle to concentrate, I can see that it reads 7:30 am. I am constantly woken up this early. It bothers me, but I am not allowed to complain.

Before I could fully awaken, my mother yanks me out of bed, scolding me. "When I get back, you better be on your way to eat breakfast, " she yelled at me. I try to fully wake, I got up out of bed, and stumbled to the hall. I'd rather walk through hell than those halls. The cold floor tortures my feet as I run down the stairs. "Where are your shoes?!" I hear a loud voice holler, my mother began to lecture me. "You have an etiquette class this evening and a fitting appointment. We have no time for breakfast nor your nonsense." On my way to the kitchen, I was pushed to the same double doors I see every morning. 'No, no, no, not this again," I thought to myself. The whiff of nail polish and hair products engulf my nose when I enter the boutique. Dust from powders flew up into the air. Colorful shades covered the tables in preparation for my arrival.

With my mother in the lead, I'm sat in the big red chair for the millionth time. "Goodmorning," Mother greets the makeup instructor. " Bellatrix has a class and fitting today. I expect her makeup to be natural yet glowing. Cover her horrible eye bags too.", "Yes, madam, "The instructor replies.  Without any further questions, she started to work right away. She burdened my face with creams and dabbed my face with powders. My nose started burning from all the chemicals I was inhaling. Though this was my daily routine, It's still practically torture. With each step, I could feel my face get heavier and heavier and I could only dread the terrible acne that would come the next day.

After what felt like hours of destroying my face, I finally heard the words I was waiting to hear. "Alright, Princess you're all done." The Instructor turned me around to face the mirror. I didn't dare look at myself. "Thank you, and please, You don't have to call me Princess, call me Bellatrix." 

Before she could respond, another woman in uniform came into the room. "Princess, the Queen has called for you. It appears that you have another fitting appointment today so if you will follow me this way-" I couldn't tolerate her bickering so it wasn't long before I interrupted her. "Yes, I know my way around the palace. You would think so after 17 years," I sassed, as a phony smile shaped upon my face. She didn't rebel back but instead, just left the room.

I did as I promised and made my way to the dressing room. Before my first step into the entrance, my mother was there already directing me in. With her hand on my back and the other pointing to our destination, I was rushed onto a wooden platform. The second my first foot touched the platform, my clothing instructor rolled to me in a revolving chair. The next thing I know, I feel something get wrapped around my waist and harshly yanked, almost slicing into my skin. I look down to see what the instructor was up to, she examines the number of the tape measure and notes it. With my hands bent in the air and my head leaned down, examining her every move, I looked back up to my mom lifting her head from the note with a sort of offended face. She faced me and faced back to the dressing instructor. " She got bigger, " she said with an exaggerated, disgusted face. " How the hell did you manage to gain more weight, " my mother chastised me." Have you been consuming too much food?". I defended myself letting out, " You hardly nourish me! How could I consume too much if I rarely eat?!" " Maybe I should turn that rarely into a nothing since you can't even manage your weight. Keep that up and no boys will marry you," The instructor proceeded as me and my mother stood there in silence, with anger left on our faces. The instructor tried variations of clothing on me. She put on sleeves, skirts, and tops. Then she would place them onto mannequins to see how they appear together. This went on for a few hours. 

As time passed by, they were finally completed with me. With a new-made dress. But I had many complaints. It was itchy and the waistband was extremely tight. It was difficult to breathe in it. I was led over to a huge mirror. I looked at myself and observed the dress. It was huge. No matter how many dresses are put on me, whether it being millions or even billions, I don't think I could ever get used to them. I could feel the dress weighing me down. It was a royal, Rosey, pink dress. As much as I wanted to just tear it off, I couldn't. The skirt was puffy with small wavy ruffles. My mom made me spin in the dress to show her the skirt, so I did with no argument. The skirt billowed out around me, the rifles flared, almost as if it was riding tidal waves. It was beautiful for such an uncomfortable dress.