Just As I Am

Seventeen

Dad has been giving me the silent treatment ever since our squabble. I gave the reservations back. Thankfully, I got a refund but it still hurt that Dad was too busy to spend time with me. After all, it was just one night. I know Dad and I rarely talk to each other, but it has become worse.

He doesn't greet me, doesn't ask me about school, nothing. Even though I'm happy because I hate it when Dad asks those questions, I'm a little worried. How will I ask him for money when I need it when we are not on speaking terms? Oh, well, I guess I just have to use this situation to my advantage.

I stared at my closet. Why does it feel like I'm looking at the same outfit I wore last week at school? I sighed. As the years went by, I had fewer and fewer fashion choices. My clothes were getting old and I had to throw them away or use them as rags. I had tried asking Dad for money to buy clothes but he always told me that I had enough clothes. Now that we were barely speaking to each other, asking him for money would be extra difficult.

It didn't help that I was constantly teased based on what I wore. In school, there were some rules such as not wearing the same outfit twicce and not wearing the same outfit another person's wearing and I'm sure I had broken those rules and many others. I wanted to look hot and trendy but my wardrobe wouldn't allow it.

My job didn't pay much and I had used ca lot of my savings on the abortion and those stupid reservations. I didn't have much money to buy clothes and I coulkdn't ask Dad for money. Why was my life so difficult? Even buying clothes was a problem. If Mum was still alive, buying clothes would not be a problem. I had today off so I decided to go shopping. I went to a small clothes shop because I knew it would be quieter there as compared to the local shopping mall.

The cold air coming out from the air conditioner hit me as soon as I entered the shop. I looked at the range of bags wistfully. There was one particular type of bag which everyone wore at school. Well, everyone except me. The bag was calling out to me. I looked at the price tag. Woah! I would have to save a lot of money before getting this bag.

"Sorry, bag. I wish I could buy you but you're too expensive", I whispered so that no one would hear me.

I wanted to have this bag so bad. Then why don't I just take it? As much as I wanted this bag, that would be so wrong. It's small, no one would notice me. Making sure no one could see me, I stuffed the bag into my high waist skirt. After window shopping some more, I left the shop. i quickly pulled the bag out. Guilt washed over me as I looked at it but I shrugged it off. Purple was my favourite colour and it would match the outfit I planned to wear on Monday.

I sorted out the clothes which were sprawled on my bed. I felt a pang of guilt as I thought of how I had gotten them. I got a lot of nice comments from people when I wore the bag on that Monday. This actually urged me to continue shoplifting. I didn't want to look suspicious, so I took money from Dad's wallet and also used his credit cards occasionally. Hopefully, Dad hadn't noticed this and also hadn't noticed this and also hadn't noticed the number of shopping bags I brought home every weekend.