Jingle Bells Ball

JBB: 03

"What is your favourite colour?"

I offered the horrible lady a smile. "Black."

My soul is black as night.

She frowned. "That is a shade, not a colour. Try again."

Fuck sake, this woman is giving me a headache. I can't please her. Seriously, if it were not for the fact that by the end of the night, I'd be rich, then I'd have left by now. Heck, I wouldn't have even come.

What can I say? I love stealing. Do you really blame me? No one else gives a shit, so the only way I live is by taking what I need.

"Red," I finally told her.

It is my top choice because it's the shade that fills my vision when I'm feeling angry, and unfortunately, I experience this emotion quite frequently.

"That is better," she said, opening the wardrobe, and turned to look at me. "And what is your name?"

Glancing around the room, I couldn't help but notice various pictures hanging on the walls. Most were of random scenery. I looked back at the woman who had returned her attention to the wardrobe. "My name is Megan."

"Last name?"

"Um...I don't have one?" It's true. I never knew it, you see, my parents were very old school and didn't trust the government or its system, so my birth was unregistered. We lived off the land.

My answer caused the woman to turn around swiftly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You may need to purchase some hearing aids." I grinned. "I said I don't have a last name."

Shaking her head, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Very well, what size clothes are you?"

Well, she took that better than most people.

I shrugged. "I take whatever I need, regardless of whether it fits me or not."

Mr James Underwood's mother approached me. A deep furrow appeared on her forehead, and I could sense that something was amiss. Her eyes bore into mine, and I knew that trouble was brewing. She grabbed my arm tightly, and I could feel the force of her grip as she pulled me towards the wardrobe. Her movements were quick and decisive, leaving me no time to react.

"I'm not a doll, ya know? All you have to do is ask." I said, pulling my arm free and then giving it a gentle rub. "Touch me again without permission, and I'll bite your fucking fingers off."

Oh, if she thinks I'm joking. I can tell you right now I was dead serious.

Just ask Johno.

Wait, you can't. Because Johno was arrested last month for shoplifting. I may or may not be responsible.

"We have wasted too much time," the woman pushed me from behind, and I stumbled into the wardrobe. "My son is expecting a lady. You will dress appropriately."

"Actually," I smiled, staring right into her grey eyes. "Your son is fully aware that I am no lady. In fact, I—holy shit!"

The wardrobe was not your typical closet but rather like the TARDIS from Doctor Who. It was much more spacious inside than it appeared from the outside. As I stepped closer, I realised that there was another room hidden within the wardrobe. Rows upon rows of dresses hung from hooks, each organised by colour and length. From long, flowing gowns to short and flirty minis, there was a dress for every occasion.

"Impressive, are they not? And you get to choose. I do hope your choice is somewhat fashionable." And with that, Mr James Underwood's mother left.

Me? Fashionable. Ha, yeah, right.