Devil & The Angel

Chapter 3: Makeover

yay, hope u enjoy. Im going to start introducing a cast but not sure who to cast the characters as. give me ur opinions guys xxx

Today was the day I go shopping for my new outfits. We go to the town that is situated about twenty minutes away. I put on my black skinny trousers and burgundy coloured jumper. I was mildly stressed for today as I wasn't sure on what my mother wanted me to wear. I picked up a black hairbrush that was placed on my bedside table and began brushing my hair, suddenly the handle of the brush snapped off. I was forever breaking brushes. You'd think I had steel wool for hair. I take a lot of frustrations out on my hair. The instant my brush broke, I cursed. My parents were extremely well-off, but it was the only brush I had, and my layered ice blond hair were lumpy knots of wool from the shower I'd just taken. I figured I could go and get my mums hairbrush from her room and use that one instead. When the knots had finally come out, my hair felt soft again. I walked out of my bedroom door and downstairs to meet my mum where she was standing there waiting impatiently by the front door. Her foot was tapping against the hard-tiled floor and I could tell she was agitated, it was a habit of hers when she was worried about something.

'Come on Georgie, we haven't got all day, what have you been doing? I've been stood here like a melon for over ten minutes.' She gave me a stern look with her slender arm placed against her hips with a matter of fact tone. I smiled and heard my father's snort.

'I'm sorry, but my hairbrush broke and you know it's the only one I have so I had to look for yours.' I replied with a sarcastic smile. She sighed and opened the front door gesturing for me to get in the car. I walked towards the garage and pressed the security keys to open it. It revealed three shiny black cars that stood there proudly. Each car desperate to be chosen. My mum pressed the car key of the black range rover to unlock it and I walked towards the passenger's side. The smell of the cream leather engulfed me, I loved the smell of cars. There was something satisfying about it.

I got on well with my mother, although we argued sometimes it was usually because we clashed over certain things. She was very beautiful, a fashion model for Vogue in her time and I can see why. She was tall with ridiculously perfect bone structure. Her eyes like mine, but mine were greener. She was always attending some dinner or ball. Very popular with people, I wished to be like her but my life has been nothing like hers. She loved Dad so much, it was irrevocable. They both adored each other, I wish to be like that with somebody someday.

I must of day dreamed on the way there as my mother had already parked the car and gotten the ticket, where was I in those last twenty minutes. Clearly not concentrating. I got out of the car and shut the door.

'Georgie, come here, I need to give you this hat to wear and these sunglasses, put those on, I don't have the time to be swarmed with attention. Put your hair up too. For the first time ever, my mum led me into several charity shops. She scanned through the items in the clothing rails and picked out various things.

'Mum, I'm not wearing anything completely ugly, please don't make me out to look like an idiot.' She laughed and handed me the clothes she had picked out, I went into the changing rooms and tried them on one at a time. I put on a baggy checked shirt and pulled over a pair of dungarees. She gave me some black lace up boots to wear with it. The outfit didn't look too bad but I didn't understand how she was planning on making my face look much different. I was still me. I walked out and showed her, she smiled and told me to take everything off. We bought the clothes and left the store. I was then taken to a hair shop, I didn't really know whether it was a hairdresser or not, we went inside the funny coloured shop and were surrounded by wigs all shapes and sizes. I looked at her and rolled my eyes, seriously.

A tall woman in her late thirties I'd say approaches us with a bright smile, I looked at her with concentration and notice that her glow isn't as bright as her smile, I felt a bit sorry for her. Maybe she was sad about something.

'Hello ladies, how can I help today?' She looked at my mum and then to me, I could feel the sadness that she was feeling leaving her, her feelings suddenly felt all warm. I smiled. Her gaze didn't really leave mine, like most peoples. It was only when I took the hat off and sunglasses that she wouldn't stop staring at me. My mum was getting impatient, I could feel it.

'Yes, we would like to try on a selection of real human hair wigs. The most realistic ones that you have please.' She led us over to a corner of the real wigs, I liked some of them but the ones my mum were looking at, not so much. I grimaced at the black bobbed one she had picked. A net was placed over my hair and then the wig was put on top. I looked into the mirror and figured it made me look quite different. But still me. My mum was satisfied and bought two of the same ones. She then led me to a salon. Oh god, what was she planning? She whispered something to the woman at the desk and they both nodded their heads. I was told to sit down on a swivel chair. It wasn't just a salon, they specialised in eyes also. I was handed a pair of dull grey contacts and told to put them in. They looked so strange on me. I was then told to lean back into my chair and not worry about anything. Once this bizarre procedure was over I looked into the mirror, I couldn't really tell much difference apart from the fact my eyebrows appeared bushier, not quite sure how they managed that.

We had finally finished this strange, reverse makeover and walked to a few stationary shops to buy new equipment for school. This was my favourite part, I picked up many new notebooks as I loved to write. It was my favourite thing to do. I've written countless novels that are tucked away under the floor board in my bedroom for no one to see but me. We spent over an hour in there getting new things, once done I had basically come out with the entire shop. There was something about stationery shops that I loved.

No one was looking at me anymore, I felt invisible compared to how I was. It was a strange sensation, when you were so used to being looked at, to not at all.