I sighed and leaned my back against the wall giving my tired aching feet just the slightest of relief. I have been at my sisters engagement party for the past three hours, and before that I was helping set it up.
“Alaina, stand up straight, that is no way for a lady to stand,” my mothers stern voice snapped at me from a few feet away. I had to resist the urge to sigh again as I pushed myself up, standing proper and poised like a lady. I plastered a fake smile on my face, as I looked around the crowded room seeing only a few people that I know. How can a room be so full yet still feel so empty? It's almost as if I am invisible, only being seen by my scolding mother.
“You look like you are about to drop dead any minute, how much sleep did you get?” my sisters voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned to my left with a genuine smile.
“A couple hours,” I replied. She sighed.
“Still not sleeping well?” she asked me, concern shadowing over her face. I shook my head.
“How do you like your party?” I asked her, trying to change the subject. She gave me a pointed look.
“I don't know over half of these people, and every time I try to talk to Henry, mother pulls him away to introduce him to more of her clients. I'm starting to think that this party was more for mother than for Henry and me,” she said. I laughed.
“Should you have expected anything more? You know how mother is,” I said. Camellia sighed and shook her head.
“I just thought that maybe for once, she could let this be about me, I mean I am the one getting married, not her.” Camellia said. I nodded. Mother always seems to have to be the center of attention, the sad thing is that sometimes I don't think she even knows that she is doing it.
“Girls, what are you doing just standing here? Go mingle,” my mother demanded as she walked up to us.
“Mother, I am tired,” I complained. She narrowed her eyes at me.
“This is your sister's engagement party, don't you think that for once you should stop being so selfish and think about her. If it were your engagement party your sister would stay by your side all night and not complain once,” my mother snapped. “Why can't you be more like Camellia?” She asked me. I looked down at my shoes, blinking away the tears that were threatening to spill down my face at any moment.
“If you would excuse me, I have to go to the restroom,” I said before quickly walking out of the family room and to the bathroom. I shut the door and leaned against it. Toughen up, Alaina. I scolded myself, urging the tears to go away. I will not cry over something that my mother said, she isn't worth it. I sighed and looked into the mirror.
The girl staring back at me looks so much like me, yet she isn't me. I would never wear a black little dress that rested a few inches above my knee, and hugged my slender figure showing off all the curves I have. My golden brown hair wouldn't be cascading down my shoulders in elegant curls. I would never wear shoes that have heals, and I most definitely would not wear as much make up as she. If I had the choice I would stick to jeans and a t-shirt, leaving my hair hanging loosely in its natural wave, or maybe a loose braid. As for makeup, I would have very little, if any. But what I dress like isn't my choice, because tonight or any other night my mother had some kind of event that would involve her co workers and clients, I was her puppet. I have to dress, walk and talk just as she would. I sighed and shook my head at my reflection before opening the bathroom door and heading back to the party with a fake smile on my face.
“Are you okay?” Camellia asked me.
“I'm fine,” I answered. Camellia sighed.
“I wish mother wouldn't be so harsh to you,” she said.
