Corrupt

Chapter 3 - Preparation

My mother finds me in a heap on the bathroom floor with vomit sticking my hair into clumps, and dirtying my hands. My head bangs as i lift it off the floor with her help, and steadily rise up from the slick tiles. Even though my eyes aren't yet focused i can see the concern printed onto the marks of age on her face. She puts down the lid of the toilet seat and i sit. "Essie, whats wrong? what happened?" I can tell she's trying to be calm about the situation, but the small tremble in her voice is as clear as a patch of dirty brown mud in a field of neatly cut, fresh green grass. I try hard to form the words my tongue wants so much to release, about the man, how he looked so helpless and desperate on the street, but my voice gets lodged half way up my throat and instead of words, i produce what sounds more like a choking goose noise. "Alright Essie," says my mother, and in a desperate act of comfort, she brings me into a large embrace in which my head is trapped between the old things bosom and armpit. 

Pushing me back to look at my face again, she wears a more gentle expression now which brings youth back into her eyes. "Come on, take a shower and wash up for later. I'll help you do your hair and makeup once you're done." She stands from her crouch which makes her bones creek and crackle. Turning away from me, she opens the bathroom door, turns to look at me one last time and says, "You'll be fine," before leaving me alone, shivering, scared and small.

                                    * * *

Wrapped up like a baby in a blanket, i tread down the hallway in my towel towards my bedroom. Already i miss the steaming heat of my hot shower, but i feel incredibly well again, as if nothing ever happened in the too early hours of the morning. Thank god for the Vitamins. Closing the door behind me, I sit at my vanity table and watch myself as i brush my hair in the mirror. Regular mid length brown hair, regular green eyes, slightly over regular sized nose, regular lips and regular chubby cheeks. I'm not under average looking, but I'm no model either. i'm enough to just slip into the background and go unnoticed by those who surround me. I can be colourful and vibrant when i like, or sullen and hostile. i don't really care though what I'm like, I'm happy in the way that i am. we all are. Thank god for the Vitamins. Some people are favoured as beauties and others and beats, but there's no commotion over it. 

I place down the hair brush and take my eyes away from the mirror. My mother enters my room with a hair dryer to dry my hair and help me get ready. I'd forgotten until she reminded me earlier that tonight it is Community Night, where everyone gets together in the Parliament building for a ball. This kind of thing doesn't happen very often, but other community activities like painting and sports take place there every week. Its a way to meet new people and make new friends, but lately some shady things have been going on in there so i don't go as often. Once my mother has finished drying my hair, she sets to work on my makeup. Its nothing much, just a bit of foundation and powder to get rid of any redness, smoky white and purple eye shadow lined with black eyeliner and finished with mascara to make my eyes cat like. If we could afford it, my mother would probably bring in a servant to do this for her, but i think she secretly enjoys it because it makes her feel young again. We elaborately plait my hair and twist it up, pinning it in a bun like way on the back of my head. 

Time for the dress. I chose a strapless dark - almost purple - chiffon waterfall like dress that covers my sparkling high heeled shoes. The corset bodice of the dress is covered in hand embroidered decoration with tiny sparkling crystals at the end of each thread. I forgot how heavy the dress was. I walk to the floor length mirror and smile to myself, i feel like a twinkling star all dressed up like this. There will be other girls there will have huge dresses with skirts spilling out everywhere, clinky high heels and fancy hair-doos, and the thought of it all brings excited butterflies to my stomach. My mother stands next to me in my room and puts a hand on my shoulder. "You look just like i used to, Essie," she said with tears in her eyes. I'm ready for the ball.