Christopher Andrew

Two Dresses

I walked into the store with my mom. I wandered around the isles looking at all the dresses. A few caught my eye. They were pretty, but I wouldn’t wear them. I didn’t wear dresses. My mom saw me looking at them, and took them off the shelf.

“It couldn’t hurt to try them on, Regina,” my mom said as she draped them over her arm. I grumbled to myself, knowing that she’d make me put them on for her even if I protested. She went through all the dresses, size zero through two, picking up the ones she liked. When her arm was full she told me to stick out my arm. I did and she put all of the dresses onto it. Then she continued until her arm was full again, she placed the dresses on my other arm. 

When her arm was finally full for the third time she tugged at me, pulling my to the dressing rooms. We picked the biggest stall and went in. She picked out a pink dress and handed it to me. I sighed and put it on the hook. When I stripped down to just my undies I pulled the dress over my head, struggling a bit as I wiggled it into position. I turned to look into the mirror. It was awful! 

I gave my mother a look that said “I thought you said this wasn’t going to hurt.” She just shook her head, and gave me the next dress.

The second, third, and fourth dresses weren’t as terrible. Them being blue instead of pink was the soul reason why. My mother tried to convince me that the one with the black ribbon made me look pretty, but I refused to put it on again.

I tried on dress, after dress, after dress, but I hated all of them. I ignored all my Mother’s protests, reasonings, and threats. Threatening her in turn with taking a scissors to them if she bought them anyway. Trying on the dozens of dresses took over an hour, and I was going to be late for hockey practice if we didn’t leave soon.

“Mom, we have to go! Like now,” I said impatiently.

“Just two more, Regina. That’s all there’s left. Then we can go,” my mother said sternly.

Fine,” I grumbled. I turned to look at the purple dress she held out to me. It was strapless and zipper-less, so I pulled it over my head, yanking it down, reminding me of the first dress, but it was nothing like the first one. This one hugged my chest just right, proving the fact that I indeed had breasts. The fabric going around my breasts was tight, while the rest flowed down to just above my knees. It had a purple strip of fabric running around the middle, just below my bra. The whole thing had a purple, flowery print on it, which I usually hated, but on this it was amazing.

I couldn’t help it when a smile spread across my usually scowling face. I turned to my also smiling mother.

“I look so... so..” I trailed off, unable to find words for how amazing I looked.

“Yes, you do,” my mother replied, knowing what I meant.

“Let’s get it,” I said, not only surprising my mother, but also myself.

“Okay, but you still have to try on the last one.”

I dejectedly took off the dress, while my mother unzipped the last one. I stepped into it, and gently pulled the the thin, spaghetti straps onto my awaiting shoulders. My mother carefully zipped it up, as I gazed into the mirror that had once been my enemy.

I looked even better in the this dress than I did in the first, if that was even possible. It was a simple black dress, with bright green trim around the top and bottom, and a wide ribbon, of the same shade around the waist. As my mother tied the ribbon into a delicate bow, I gasped at my reflection. I couldn’t believe this was the same girl who was going to be late for hockey practice.

As my mother was paying I had no idea how much these two dresses would change my life forever.