"Please don't tell me that's what your making me wear."
"You're wearing it, end of story."
"Mother, I'm going to look like a washed out ballerina." I argued.
"That's good because you're supposed to be a ballerina." She said with a slight tone to it that told me she was getting pissed with my attitude.
I watched as she left my room and slammed the door behind her. Okay, I guess I could be a little bit nicer, especially since she doesn't want to go to the Halloween party either. But come on, she could of found a way to get us out of the dang party. Since my dad died exactly one year ago on this day she hasn't been her usual perky, tell-anyone-off-who-got-in-her-way self. Before my father died my mother was a strong minded, hilarious, caring, gorgeous woman. She still was caring and utterly gorgeous but there was a coldness that wasn't there before. And while she was beautiful, if you looked close you could see the dark circles under her eyes, the paleness that now drowned her once flawless complexion. But I was almost sure no one could see that but me. I still loved my mother, but she got frustrated, and mad more often than before. I heard her yell up to me to hurry and get ready. I scowled down at the pink ruffle tutu and the baby blue top that was covered in itchy sequins. So since my mom had lost all of her backbone, me and her followed in a schedule that was absolutely ridiculous. She no longer had the will to say no, or to argue. Well accept to me. We fought like crazy. She went to brunch with the towns council women on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Before when they would ask if she would attend, she wouldn't say no, she would say hell no. My mother, no longer had the will to be herself. She didn't feel any will to live. She was terrified of living a life without my father. She was terrified of being alone in this world. She was terrified of not being accepted now that my father was gone. She was terrified of living, period. I could not help her, we barley talked anymore. We used to be best friends. That sounds so cliché, but I'm serious. We did everything together. If she had to go grocery shopping, I would volunteer to go with her, and not just to beg for candy at the end, I wanted to spend more time with her. My father and I were the same way. We as a family did everything that was possible to be with each other, always. Until October 31, 2008. That dark faithful night, was the night my best friend, my rock, my mother's soul mate, was killed, brutally.
"Kayle Elizabeth Reed, I am about to walk my butt outta this house, and you better be behind me in 10 minutes"
"I'm coming!" I yelled.
Oh gosh, she used my full name. She really must not want to go to this party. I striped off my Beatles T-shirt, and favorite baggy pants. I stared at the ballerina ensemble for a minute until I had the strength to actually put it on. I grabbed it off my bed and stuck my legs threw the tutu and threw the tight spandex like top on. Wow, I could already feel the itchiness from where the sequins were rubbing against my skin. This is gonna be a long night I thought glumly to myself. I went to my vanity and got ready to make myself look semi appropriate. Jeez, I looked like I just rolled outta bed. I got my big brush and started the difficult task of taming my dark brown head full of hair. As I brushed threw my hair I studied my face. I used to be pretty, but when my father died I have not been able to get that same complexion, or those clear green eyes, or the easy smile that would light my face up. Now like my mother there was a certain paleness in my face, and my dark green eyes were not clear, if you looked close enough you could see the trouble hiding behind them, and I no longer could smile. My smiles have been forced ever since fate took my best friend away from me. I used to be the most popular girl in school. I was totally gorgeous, had a hot mom, and most women thought my dad was the hotness to. All my friends had huge crushes on my daddy. I was not popular anymore, I was still gorgeous but when I looked in the mirror I hated the way I looked. To me I was hideous. I don't know why I no longer loved myself or thought I was pretty, but what I did know was that I was no longer the popular girl. I was the girl whose father died, I was the freak that everyone ignored, and that teachers and adults felt sorry for. My friends couldn't even look at me anymore. Unfortunately the council women took my mother's lack of backbone to get her in the council. So she was like there little puppet. And right know the council was pulling the strings to my mom and making her go to parties, have conversations with people she didn't know, and making her into the councils mini me. I tore my self away from the ugly image I knew that was in the mirrior and got ready for a night I hoped I would forget.
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if you want me to continue with this story let me know! (:
