Tales from the Darkside (Currently Being Rewritten)

12

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers through my hair as I looked at my outfit, debating whether it was too late to change out of the thin strap white lace dress I had chosen and into something else. I looked down behind me at the cream coloured high heels near my bed and grimaced slightly, whoever invented high heels probably never wore them otherwise they'd probably would have made them more comfortable. I was glad that I rarely wore them.

There was a knock on my bedroom door, "Cora, are you almost ready?" My mum's voice asked from outside the door, the handle turning slowly as she pushed it open, poking her head inside. "It's a 45 minute drive to the venue and you know how terrible your dad is with directions."
"I'm just putting my shoes on." I gestured to the high heels as my mum nodded, leaving the door ajar as she walked downstairs.

High heels in hand, I made my way downstairs rather than put them on in my bedroom. My dad was tugging on his tie, frowning as my mum slapped his hand away. "It looks fine, Ray."
Watching my parents standing together, my mum's hands resting against my dad's chest, I was struck by the similarities or lack thereof between the three of us. My dad's hair was a dark sandy blonde colour and my mum's was a mix of ginger and strawberry blonde, whereas mine was a reddish-brown with blonde streaks underneath. Blue eyes and fair skin, although on my part slightly uptilted blue-grey eyes and lightly freckled skin, appeared to be the extent of similar physical traits between us. But honestly, how many people look like carbon copies of their parents?
"Ready to go?" Dad asked, noticing I was there as mum spun around to face me, the green dress she wore shifting and flowing around her slightly as she walked, high heels never faltering a step. As she moved closer I noticed the pale green earrings she had decided to wear, matching her eyeshadow.

It wasn't surprising that my mum had decided to wear green to the celebration, it was her favourite colour after all.
She wiped her thumb on my cheek, just under my eye. "Eyelash." Mum held up her thumb to show me the tiny hair in the centre. "You look beautiful by the way."

"I told you I wouldn't get lost." My dad exclaimed, looking between my mum and me with a triumphant expression on his face.
"You had several close calls." Mum teased as I watched Dad pout slightly, rolling his eyes at her teasing.
I looked at the window at the building across the street: string lanterns lighting the patios, men dressed in suits and women in a variety of dresses. You could hear classical music playing faintly inside along with the sounds of voices.

"I hope they have descent food. Last time we went to a party like this, I ended up with food poisoning." Dad muttered, offering mum his arm to take as he lead her towards the building with me following behind them, hoping that I didn't trip over my high heeled feet and fall flat on my face.
My foot had barely touched the grass area when an arm wrapped around my waist pulling me towards a chest.
"People are looking at you, you know." Liam pointed out, not sounding too pleased at this fact as I looked around at the faces of those standing outside with glasses of champagne in hand. I spotted two...maybe three students from school who were not so subtly staring at me, their eyes widening as they noticed Liam behind me and then they quickly found interest in something else.
"You can't stop people from looking." I sighed, trying not to lean further into his warm body. "Not unless you plan to tear out the eyeballs of every person."
Liam was silent behind me. He wasn't thinking about doing it....was he?! I wriggled slightly, turning around until I was looking at him. He wore a dark blue shirt with a black jacket, pants and shoes. "You're not actually going to tear out people's eyes are you?"
"Of course not."

"There you are, Liam." I spun around at the sound of a woman's voice, watching a brown haired woman with brown eyes and clad in a blue dress with matching heels approached.

"Hi, Mrs Paxon." I smiled as Liam's mum stopped in front of us, the look of displeasure on her face faded slightly as she looked towards me, replaced with a warm smile.
"Cora dear, how are you?" I struggled to come up with a response to her question.
"I'm alright." I continued to smile, more subdued then before as I thought about how I was actually feeling: stressed, overwhelmed, annoyed, sad, fearful....the list went on and on.
"That's good to hear."