Converted

Chapter Nine - Dearest

 I stopped outside my parents room I hadn’t been in their since it happened but I didn’t know if anyone else had. I shuddered at the thought. What if someone had been in there and messed everything up? What is no one had been in there and it’s all dusty and covered with cobwebs? I couldn’t decide what would be worse things been moved like they were still there or the room untouched drumming in the message they were gone and not coming back? I paused outside the door taking a breath in attempt to steady myself. We were lucky enough that we had enough rooms that my parents’ room could remain untouched. It was ridiculously big and we often joked calling it the manor or hotel or something. I opened to door to see the room untouched but very clean despite the fact it seemed like forever that they’ve been gone. There was a little bit of dust but nothing that screamed out that this room was abandoned. Gorgeous old teak flooring was cool against my bare feet. I sighed think of all the times I’d run into the room when I was little bugging my mum or dad about something that I though was of major importance at the time. I smiled remember their faces making it seem as they agreed that whatever it was I was talking about was important.

I walked over to my mum’s dressing table. It was beautiful and old like everything in the house (more or less) but instead of the old antique smell other had the smell of my mother’s perfume collection and makeup clung to it. I took in as much of the familiar scent as I could. I trailed my fingers across the cool glass bottles holder the delicious smelling liquids. I stopped as I ran my hand over the perfume my mother always wore and picked it up spraying some of the precious scent into the air. The smell of it felt like it had sent me back in time to when my mum could be coming around that corner. My hand stopped over a second bottle. This one was my favourite. I’d often borrowed it from my mum. It wasn’t too expensive but it wasn’t cheap either. I just loved the oriental, woody and almost floral scent. I just found it so beautiful. It was so contrasting to the sweet fruity scent of my mums favourite but both were extremely comforting to me. Both made me feel at home. I decided that those two perfumes were leaving with me when I left the room. I could keep something from the past in my present and future. A little piece of them still with me.

I shook my head returning my mind to the why I had come to a room I had avoided so long. I made my way to my parents’ wardrobe the elegant carved wood glowing in the filtering sunlight. The wardrobe was huge, spanning one whole wall. We used to joke that it had originated from some exotic palace. To be completely honest I didn’t know. I sighed my hands hesitating on the handles of the wardrobe. Could I face this? I pulled open the doors to be engulfed by the familiar fragrance of my mums washing detergent. I felt terrible that the only reason I had come into the room was for something to wear although only initially it was my original thought. My mum and I were the same size and I wanted what I wore tonight to show I meant business. I wasn’t playing games. I’m responsible for people now and I wanted my appearance to show that. I’m not a little girl playing at being a grownup. Whoever had sent that invite was high up in the hierarchy and I was not going to waste a chance at a possibility of changing the way things work. My mum was a smart business woman and was the same size but a slightly different build as me something I was so glad of. My mother was beautiful and the fact I was even a little bit like her made me so happy.

I pulled out a simple pair of black trousers and a green silky blouse. I had some black heels that would look perfect with it. I smiled remembering all the times me and my mum would swap clothes. It sounds weird but it’s true we had really similar tastes in clothes. Mine was a little more old fashioned and conservative for my age and my mums was a bit more up to date and fashionable. When I say that I don’t mean it in the sense she was trying to be a teenager again she was more dignified than that but she knew what was in fashion and what would suit her. She knew what she was comfortable in and it looked good. She didn’t dress too young or too old. It worked for her. Surprisingly a lot of our stuff suited each other in different ways. I slipped on the trousers. They skimmed the curves of my legs perfectly. The blouse hugged my waist and hips exactly how I liked. Not drawing too much attention but showing they were there. Following my mum and I’s code; fitted not clingy. It always amazed me how two different people the same sizes but with different body shapes in the same clothes could look so different and so amazing in their own ways.