The Princess Pages: A Girl Like Cinderella

Song Twenty Two

WHEN YOUR SCARS DON'T SHOW BUT THE BURNS ARE ALWAYS THERE

"You are cordially invited to the Green Day Valentine's Ball

At the Jillian A. Hotel

Saturday, the fourteenth of February,

At seven o' clock in the evening in the Ballroom,

Black tie only. 

This will serve as your entry ticket. 

Admit One."

Lucy's stomach lurched with anxiety at the sight of the word Ball, her insides twisting into knots as she sat at the foot of her blue bed, in white shirt and pajamas, skimming her eyes over the invitation wedged between her tensed hands. Through the opened triangular window of her bedroom, Lucy felt some of the moonlight kiss her bare feet, the luminous bluish-white rays invading the confines of her dark room.

It was two thirty in the morning, and Lucy had been awake since midnight, sitting on that same spot on her bed, her bare feet dangling over the wooden floor of the attic, her shoulders stiff as she stared down at the thick, creamy white card that she'd been given the day before by her adviser and teacher, Mrs. Powell.

Turning it over in her shivering fingers, Lucy's eyes admired the red crest stamped at the center of the back, the initial G in an inky engraving pressed against the pale creamy card.

She carefully placed the invite on her lap, closing her eyes, the memories that haunted her for two years rushing back like a roll of film unfurling from its wheel:

She used to be popular. She used to be appreciated. Looked up to. Greeted. Envied. All at once images of her freshman year flooded her mind; people making way for her in the hallway, classmates saving her the best seat in the cafeteria, inviting her out for parties, fighting over who got to be her lab partner, the cool cliques happily waving her over for a juicy piece of gossip to share; and guys actually clamoring for her attention, asking her for dates.

All that. Gone.

What she believed were happy memories with friends were nothing but a farce, a fallacy that she was too naive to see through. Before she finished Sophomore year, everyone who'd hung out with Lucy now steered clear of her, hated her, treated her like she was invisible. 

The girl who'd once ruled over Green Day High had been dethroned. 

It all began when her supposed friends urged her to cut classes. She had refused to. 

Next, when Lucy was still a party-goer, her schoolmates goaded her to drink alcohol even though none of them were older than fifteen. She turned them down, much to their annoyance.

Everything quickly changed for Lucy during Sophomore year. Her daily clique started to leave her out of their plans, their group outings. 

So she didn't drink, she didn't cut, she didn't smoke or bully underclassmen as a routine.

Lucy knew she had done nothing wrong, and yet one day, she found herself hiding in the girls' bathroom, sitting on the toilet bowl, her lunch tray on her lap.