The Problem with Paper Dresses (A Dark High school Romance)

Chapter 1

"Your new Teen Miss South Texas USA is contestant number thirty-six, Olivia Fallon." The crowd's cheers were deafening. This pageant win is my ticket straight up to the State Pageant. It seems the crowd is more excited than I am. To me, this is just another crown and sash to add to an already crowded room. As I take my first walk with a fake smile on my face, I see my mom smiling ear to ear. This is the only time I see her smile—when I win a pageant or my face is on the cover of another magazine. I wish she would just be happy with me when I wasn't getting yet another crown to add to a very crowded room full of them.

After I am done and the other girls exit the stage after congratulating me, my mom bounds up the stage and hugs me. To everyone else, we probably look like a close mother-daughter duo. They could not be farther from the truth. The only time my mom really ever says anything to me is when she is critiquing me about something, whether it be my weight, photos, or pageant walk. At least I could be glad she at least talks to me then.

"Teen Miss Texas, here we come," she yells out. To others, it would seem she was just excited for me, but I knew better. She wanted everyone around us to know what pageant we were headed to next. She bragged so much about me it seemed like she was actually proud of me to others. I have always known better though. Nothing I do would ever be enough. She only brags about her "perfect" model daughter to make herself look good.

I smoothed out my blue dress that cost more than most cars and noticed again how loose it had gotten over the last couple of weeks.

"Now go take some pictures for the paper," my mom pushed me towards the group of reporters with cameras. I didn't feel like smiling for the camera at all, but I still put on my best fake smile. I had been trained to do that for years now. I had done it in pageants, photo shoots, even at school.

"Can we go home now?" I asked my mom after the parade of photos was done and all those who hadn't congratulated me before had done so.

"Yes. Go change and we can leave. Remind me we have to buy a new dress next week. That one is all wrinkly because it's too big. A smaller size would look better anyway." There it was, the snide comments about my weight. Mom couldn't go a whole day without making them. No matter how much weight I lose, she will never be happy. Not as long as there is still any of me left.

I changed out of my dress and met my mom at the car. When I got in, she had another big smile on her face. She had the phone to her ear and her finger over her mouth as a signal for me not to talk. I wasn't planning on it anyway. "Yes, Mr. Marshall, she will be there. Thank you so much for this opportunity," she hung up the phone.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"That was Ben Marshall with Rodeo Daily. They want you to make an appearance at this year's State Rodeo event. They will ask you a couple of questions on the loudspeaker, and you will ride in on a horse during the event along with your sister queens."

Lovely, another event I would be forced to show up at with my crown and sash. People would stop me for pictures, and I would be forced to act like I was having a good time. There was no way out of it.

"Um. I don't know how to ride a horse." Has she hit her head recently or something because there is no way I am getting on a horse and embarrassing myself in front of all those people.
"You will figure it out." That sounds like my mom. Always super helpful.
When we got home I walked right past my dad without saying a word and started up the stairs. I could tell by the bottles all around him that he was drunk. As I walked up the stairs I heard him mutter "she win?"
"Yep." Mom replied and continued walking.
"Good. I don't like spending my money for nothing."
He paid for all the pageants and for anything else my mom wants. My parents didn't really even like each other. My mom never got in fights with him though because as long as he kept writing checks she really didn't care. My dad is a business owner. That's the fancy way I like to say it when people ask. The actual answer is that he owns dozens of brothels all over the country and has his own chain of bourbon. He samples his own products way to much if you ask me.
I take off the crown and sash I wear and put it in the trophy room. It's a room about the size of the average bedroom. It is filled to the brim with shelves. These shelves carry over fifty different titles all won in the past few years. I put away the sash and crown and quickly walk out of the room. Most girls would love to admire the crown they won but I stopped doing that long ago. Pageant just reminded me about the time I wasted on something that I never really wanted to do in the first place.
I went to my room and shut the door. I went straight to my bed. I did a lot today and I hadn't ate anything all day. Supper time passed and I stayed in my room. My parents never asked why I didn't eat. My dad didn't care and my mom preferred me to be as skinny as possible.
I grab my journal and start to write. I don't keep a diary. This is my song writing book. I have wrote songs as long as I can remember. I wish that no one knew who I was. I would love more than anything to be a ghost song writer. Someone who's face you never have seen behind the star who is always out in the opens music. My mom has had me out the in the spotlight since I was adopted by her at six years old though. I hum the tune of the song I am writing as I drift off to sleep.           Fix this whole part like the first few paragraphs too.