A War in Black and White

1. A Proposition For You

"Mary!" My Aunt Helen yelled throughout the house, no doubt waking up the entire neighbourhood.

My housemaid tightened my corset from behind me. I sucked in my breath, unable to respond back to my hollering Aunt. Personally, I believed that corsets were a trend that faded a few decades ago, but when it came to looking my best, my guardians said differently. I gripped the bar in front of me and viewed myself in the mirror. Other than the discomforted expression on my face, I'd have to say I looked pretty for once.

My hair was pulled into a twist at the back of my head with a butterfly barrette keeping it in place. Helen had hired a beautician to give me a complete beauty treatment that included many different forms of serums, wax strips and buffering pads. My face was also put together with powders to make the tone look even. Not that my natural skin wasn't clear, but Helen said I needed all the help I could get.

Helen was trying to find me a suitor for the banquet a few days away. It would be her gift, by her standards. She thought she was doing something nice for me, taking me out of the dirty robes she had plastered me in since I was 12. Now she has a complete change of mind of me because people are starting to notice that I don't get as much of her attention and good will as that of her daughters. Understandable for any ordinary family, to take in an orphaned girl and treat her with less care then you would for your own flesh and blood. But we were no ordinary family.

You see, Helen was one of the biggest war bond sellers in America, stationed in North Iowa. She had to maintain an image of complete composure and a rouge orphan under her wing was the last thing she needed.

The fact that she, her daughters, and the rest of their family neglected me for the 7 years I lived with them, was surfacing. For how could you sell war bonds when you weren't respected as a person? In Helen's case, she needed all the respect she could get. Not only was this a problem, she was also a woman.

"Ah, there you are. You could have responded to me instead of making me run like a fool around in my own house." She complained, taking over for the housemaid.

"I couldn't exactly breathe with her tugg-" I sucked in a breath as she pulled with more force than that of the maid. Gentleness was not a concept that Helen understood; at least, not with me.

"Well, get used to it. You'll be wearing these on a daily basis. The banquet is only a few days away. We need to find you a respectable man before then." She stated, tugging for one last time before tying off the strings.

I struggled to suck in a deep breath, and turned towards Helen's awaiting gaze. She eyed me up and down, her cold eyes landing on my own.

"It'll have to do." She exclaimed, throwing a pink dress in my face. "Put this on and meet me downstairs in exactly 10 minutes. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Without another word she left, leaving me and a pink chiffon dress alone. I shrugged it on and viewed myself in the mirror.

It was a fuchsia pink colour that hugged the upper half of my body and then cascaded down to my ankles. I slipped on my 2-inch grey heels and really looked at myself.

Mother and father wouldn't recognize the girl in the mirror. They had always taught me that money was a way into a person's mind. Right now, looking at myself, all my mind was on was brand new dresses, diamond rings, and first-class treatment. I was a complete stranger to myself!

The real me always had her hair down, or loosely pulled back in a plain clip, wearing a plain gown with a camera around my neck. Photography was what I was truly passionate about. My parents had introduced me to it when I was eight years old. My father had the most influence on me, as a result of capturing photos for the Globe Gazette in the late 20's.