"Truthfully, my dear, your not all that repulsive. But a new haircut would do you well. And a few coats of makeup." I shielded a glare from my mother as she spoke. As I sat in the small armchair she had drug into the center of the elaborately decorated living room, she circled me, critiquing my every flaw- which as far the the Queen Bitch herself was concerned, was my entire existence.
I said nothing, instead nodding like I agreed with every word that came out of her carefully painted mouth. Inside, however, I was boiling. Luckily, I had a lot of self control. She reached down into the large black tote sitting at her feet. "It's not that I don't absolutely love the way you are- okay, I don't- but I wouldn't want people to think that I birthed an ogre."
Internally I sighed. This was how things had been my whole life. Every action of mine criticized by the two people who were supposed to love me most in the world. 'Why couldn't I just be more like Marina?' The words were always there. Even without being spoken aloud, they hung there, like a dense fog.
Marina was the child who had inherited my mother's beauty and my father's charm. She got the pretty, smoky blue eyes and the full, pouty lips. Sitting atop her heart shaped face was a crown of golden waves that fell nearly to her lower back. Without even so much as a drop of makeup, Marina was the gorgeous daughter Mother so desperately wanted.
And so, it was without an ounce of regret that I agreed to leave here. To leave my judging mother, my barley-there father, and my enviable little sister, in exchange for a school I had been specially selected to attend. Not surprisingly, my Mother didn't object in the slightest. "If only it was you're sister who and been blessed with our gifts, and not you. She's much more fitting for the task," she had told me upon receiving the invitation. Of course she was right. I was bound for failure. I didn't have the beauty required to be successful. But, at least now I had a chance for escape from the Hell I was born into. Mother could escape the shame of having a daughter as plain as I, and instead pretend that she had only conceived one child, which had ended up with angelic looks.
It ironic, I had so often told myself, that a family such as mine would resemble heavenly beings, as we were nearly the opposite. Instead of being graced by God with the beauty that had been passed down in my family genes from both directions, my ancestors had been stealing it since as far back as time can tell, with each generation even more heavenly than the last. I seemed to be the only exception to the phenomenon.
With hair the color of a muddy stream that stretched down my back straight as a poker stick and eyes like dirt, I was boring. Nothing that stood out on me. My eyebrows were neither perfectly carved nor bushy; my nose was not large nor dainty and cute; my eyes were typically sized, neither doe-like nor squinty. My weight was average my body normal. There was nothing about me that would make a person look twice or say "I won't be forgetting that girl anytime soon," because everybody did forget me.
"Are you, Miss. nightly's niece," Mother's business accounts would ask upon meeting me with a plastered smile. As though they couldn't believe such a breathtaking creature could produce something as utterly...normal as me. Even just a week after that, if they were to run into my my mother and I, the same question would be asked. With an almost inaudible sigh,my mother would respond, "this is my daughter Myra," as though it pained her just to say as much.
Taking out her scissors, Mother trimmed my hair. No, it wasn't a trim. She snipped away at my like it was nobody's business but her own. Once she was satisfied, she put the scissors back in the bag and took out another large case, one I had often seen while I watching her ready herself for an important dinner with a client or a romantic night with my father. “Close your eyes,” she instructed before slathering some kind of cream all over my face and neck.
An hour later she was finished. Heaving a sigh, I stood up, glancing in the mirror hanging above a skinny table off to my left. My jaw dropped. For once I didn’t look quite so ordinary. I could almost pass as pretty. Sure, not Marina kind of pretty, but still pretty in my own sense. For the first time in all my sixteen years, I was able to feel proud about myself.
My hair had been cut to about my shoulder blades and parted way off to the side. Mother had put in some kind of glosser that made it exceptionally shiny and seemed to bring out hidden hues of red and brown.
Peering at my face, I still couldn’t get over the initial shock. My eyes were dark, my short lashes extended out quite a length. A nice purple coated my eyelid. A shimmery powder was swept across my cheekbones, making them stand out in as I shifted in the lighting. My cheeks, typical lifeless and dull, sprung to life with a light, rosy color.
I felt almost like the succubus I had been born to be. “Thank you, Mother,” I whispered, running a hand over my hair. “It looks beautiful.”
My mother shrugged. “It’s acceptable. Much better than the way you normally look, I’m happy to say, but still not how I had always pictured my first born daughter to look.” Her words were like a sharp smack to the face. Instantly, the glamour dulled and I saw myself correctly. Nothing spectacular- just slightly better than usual. I felt stupid for getting so worked up about it.
“Now go change into the dress I bought you. I refuse to let you embarrass me this evening,” she spit out her command, motioning to the large, mahogany spiral staircase. I nodded and made my way upstairs and into my bedroom.
I glanced down at the official invitation lying on my desk. The words glared up at me:
Dear Miss Knightley,
We, at Borderline School of the Supernaturally Gifted, are pleased to announce that after careful consideration, we have nominated you for a spot in our institute.
Being the heir of the Knightley family legacy, you have been graced with the talents only few are special enough to receive. It would be the Borderline Institutes pleasure to have you attend. There is no fee to attend our school, as every student is hand chosen.
We have contacted your parents, and are waiting only for your final decision. Please be in touch shortly.
Best regards,
Mr. Calvin Wan,
Headmaster
Tomorrow I would be there, at a place where I’m wanted. The anticipation made my heart flutter. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins, hot and ready. I would learn thing I could never think of coming up with on my own. Best of all, I’d be away from my horribly beautiful family.
And now all that was left was to be picked up by the private shuttle they had sent for me. I quickly changed then grabbed my packed suitcase up off of my bed.
I waited by the door until I heard to sound of tires pulling up my driveway. “See you later, Queen Bitch,” I whispered.
