Bottled Beauty

Bottled Beauty Ch. 6

NOTE: I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. This is written by an amazing writer named Bianca. I am just posting it to share. The only thing I do own is the cover art.

The next day was a flurry of activity. My mother had apparently scheduled a number of last minute appointments scattered throughout Los Angeles. With her arm tightly clenched on mine, she dragged me excitedly from place to place so that we wouldn’t be late for the beauty pageant at 7 o’clock.

     The first place we went to was a dress shop. A bored looking woman wearing too much make-up was sitting behind the counter, playing with a pen. However, as soon as we walked through the swinging door, her eyes brightened and she immediately flew to my side.

     “Wow,” she said breathlessly, fingering a tress of my dark hair. “Your daughter,” she told my mother, “is absolutely stunning.”

     “Thank you.” My mom beamed. My mother looked giddy with excitement; she usually got like this for Cara’s dance recitals with the costume fittings and hair appointments. It felt odd having it directed at me. “I’m sorry for the short notice, but we’d like to purchase a dress and have it fitted by tonight.”

     “Normally it takes longer than that...” the woman said slowly, but her gaze never left my face, her brown eyes transfixed on me. I had looked in the mirror this morning before I had left with my mother, so I knew exactly what she saw. Not just any teenage girl, but one who was slightly stunning in a way that almost didn’t seem possible. I was immediately thankful I had squirted some perfume on the night before.

     “I’m sure we can squeeze it in,” the woman said with a wink, and she rushed off to pull some dresses off the rack.

     We tried on an assortment of dresses in a variety of colors and shapes and sizes. I felt awkward, slipping the fabric on, standing in the middle of the room on a raised platform, and then being critiqued. I was used to wearing t-shirts and shorts, not silken dresses dyed rich shades with fine embroidery work and jewels. But no matter what I wore, I was always sure to receive a compliment.

     “That one fits like a glove!”

     “Beautiful color on you!”

     “It makes your eyes sparkle!”

     “Everything looks amazing on you, darling!”

     In the end, we purchased a dazzling white dress carefully hand-stitched with gold embroidery. As soon as I had slipped it on, I knew it was the one. The fabric was draped beautifully, a cascade of ivory with threads of gold. One glance in the mirror and I could see myself glowing.

     Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to admire my purchase.

     “Off to the beauty salon!” my mother gushed, dragging me out into the bright sunlight as we ran across the hot sand to our next appointment.

     ***

     Night came faster than I had ever thought possible.

     At 6:55 PM I was dressed in my new gown and my dark hair was pinned back with a gold clip. Around my throat was an amethyst necklace a jewelry shop owner had practically gifted to me, and my feet were clad in leather strap sandals that laced up to my knee and were studded with diamond-like jewels.

     I looked at myself in one of the many vanity mirrors set up backstage, making sure that nothing was out of place. There were ten of us in the beauty pageant. The other girls looked beautiful with big eyes, flawless skin, and long dresses. There was a nervous energy in the air, like the hum of static electricity before a thunderstorm, but I felt a strange sense of calm. I could see the other girls’ furtive glances towards me, their eyes widening, and knew that I had a good shot.