It was strange that my mother and I had suddenly won a free cruz vacation. What was even stranger was that not only my mom and I, but many other low income families. I may just be paranoid, but I have an uneasy feeling about this whole thing.
Something is just off about it all. Although my mom is having lots of fun, nice dresses, good food, new people. She's having the time of her life.
"Hey Sattara! Are you ready for the banquet hall?" My friend Sierra comes rushing into my room, wearing a red dress with gold satin trim. The sleeves are and torso are skin tight, and the skirt hugs her curved thighs. She's so beautuful with long curly hair, almost the same color as her dress. Blue eyes that turn green some days, and she's tall, with a nicely shaped figure.
"Almost, I just have to put my dress on. Can you shut the door?" I look her way and force a smile, and make it as genuine as possible.
"Oh okay, I'm gonna head there then, we'll meet up there when you're ready." Sierra announces cheerfully, and shuts the door.
"Okay see you there." I say this to myself quietly, why, I don't know.
I sigh to myself and sit at an imitation victorian vanity set. The same pale complexion. Porcelain skin, sad grey eyes, and white hair, slanted bangs falling to the sides of my face. My mom says it looks more like light silver, than white. She says I look like a life-size porcelain doll. Like that's supposed to be a compliment.
I get up out of the chair and feel my hair fall and brush at my bare calves. It's so long, that's the only thing I really like about my hair. That it loves to grow.
I look through the closet and find a nice deep blue dress. It's almost like a japanese kimono. With long open sleeves that can hide my hands if I kept them at my sides. The collar was designed to look like how a kimono. And the sewed on belt is cleverly tied in a neat little bow. The skirt is split and, the fabric overlays itself at the hip and eventually separated below the knee.
"I think I like this one." There I go talking to myself again.
How I got the dress in the closet in the first place? It was there when I was given the room, along with an assortment of many other garments. All different shapes, colors, and designs.
I slip the soft fabric over my head, and pull and shimmy the dress until it was on just right. The body-length mirror revealed the final product. It looked nice on me, but I still didn't like my sad grey eyes.
"Dinner is going to start in an hour. You better get out there if you want to mingle." Mom pops her head in the door, and looks at me. Her eyes widen and start to tear up. "Oh, your so beautiful." Her hand reaches and covers her mouth. "Here let me do your hair."
Mom comes rushing in my room and immediately sits me down on a stool. She fashions my bangs and starts braiding my hair. Pulling, yanking, combing, the doesn't seem to be an end to it. Then finally she's done.
I get up and turn around to see a wide intricate braid falling from right shoulder. My bangs and some longer hair at the sides falling down framing my white face. Still, those grey eyes.
All of a sudden my mom slips a necklace over my head and clasps it. It's a little crystal flower framed in gold. "Where'd you get this?"
Mom looks at me in the mirror "It was your grandmothers."
I toutch the little flower with my finger tips, and remember my grandma years ago when I was a kid. Always trying to teach me to to be proper.
Keep your back straight sweetheart. Sit proper with a skirt. You're eating like a fieldhand, slow down.
