Spoiler! :
I stood in front of my bedroom mirror and stared at a girl I did not recognize. The strange creature touched her fingers to her rosy cheeks and bright red lips. The lips were stunning on her. They stood out from her ashen complexion, giving her the impression of fierceness. Her icy blue eyes were striking under her long lashes that had been darkened by mascara. She stared back at me with the same curiosity that sprinkled my own features.
As I ran my fingers down the silk of my teal gown, hers did the same, echoing my actions. I refused to admit that this girl was me; she was too stunning… too perfect. I sighed and turned away from my mirror. I looked perfect, and my mother would expect nothing less.
There was a knock at my door.
"Come in," I called as I shifted through my jewelry box for a pair of earrings to match my dress.
Agatha Trimble, my housekeeper, walked through the door in a rush. In her hand she carried a small box.
"Miss. White, your mother has asked me to give this to you."
"My name is Violet, Agatha. No need to be formal," I reminded her. It was probably the fifth time that day.
"Sorry, Miss. Violet," Agatha said sheepishly, placing the box on my dresser beside my jewelry box.
"What's in the box?" I asked as I put on a pair of diamond earrings.
Agatha smiled. "I'm not sure, I wasn't allowed to look."
My mother could be a real witch sometimes. Actually, cross that out. My mother could be a real witch all the time.
"Let's have a look, shall we?" I said playfully and lifted the lid of the box. Agatha gasped as I revealed a silver necklace. It was a simple design, a silver chain with a dangling heart made of diamonds. Simple, but expensive.
"It's very pretty," Agatha remarked.
"It is, isn't it?" I said quietly. "Would you help me to put it on?"
"Of course, Miss. White," Agatha said quickly.
"It's Violet.” Make that six times today.
After Agatha helped me to put the necklace on, and after we had admired it once more, she left to finish her evening chores. I took one last glance in the mirror, and then went downstairs to see my mother before the dinner.
I checked the living room first, but it was empty. "Mother!" I called and headed towards the kitchen.
She was running around amongst the chefs and waiters. "This needs more salt! You call yourself a cook?" she was shouting.
"Mother."
"Oh, Violet! There you are, I need to speak with you right away. Meet me in the living room, please," she said shortly, and turned back to the cooks.
I sighed, but went back to the living room and took a seat on the sofa. The living room was quiet and calm compared to the rush of the kitchen. It was nice. I tapped my toes on the hardwood tile as I waited.
After a couple of minutes, my mother rushed into the room. She was wearing a business suit and high heels that rang against the floor as she walked.
"Alright," she said hurriedly, like she had somewhere better to be. "This evening is very important for my business, and I need you be on your best behaviour. Is that clear?"
I didn't answer her at first; I was too busy clenching my teeth to keep from shouting. There were so many things I would like to say to her.
"So in other words perfect?" I confirmed, furrowing my brows.
My mother smiled, “Good, I’m glad we understand each other. I will see you at dinner.” She got up from the couch and left as quickly as she had come. Understand each other, what a joke. I don’t think I would ever understand that woman.
I looked at the clock that hung across the room. It was 5:30. I had half an hour until I had to be in the dining room, so I decided to spend it helping Agatha finish her chores.
I found Agatha standing outside on a stool, washing the top of my mother’s new car. She was quietly humming to herself. It reminded me of one of the seven dwarves in Snow White.
"Can I help you?" I asked her, picking up a sponge from a bucket of soapy water.
She jumped at the sound of my voice, nearly falling off the stool. "Oh, yes, Mis- Violet, yes of course," she stuttered. I was afraid I had given her a heart attack, until she faintly smiled and added, "I haven't washed the front of the car, if you'd like to get started on that."
I shook the sponge in the bucket and rung it out a couple times to clean it. Washing the car helped to take my mind off my infuriating mother. The time passed quickly, and I hadn't yet finished the car when my mother came rushing out of the house. She had changed into a long, black dress and had pulled her hair into a bun that rested high on her head.
"Violet! Our guests are going to be here any minute, and you're playing with the maid? Get inside."
Irritation crawled up my spine. She could be such a prude when she wanted to be. "Of course, mother," I said, like the proper daughter I was. I dropped the sponge back into the bucket as I walked by, splashing some water onto the bottom of my dress. Luckily, my mother had already retreated inside and hadn't seen.
The dinner started out like any other dinner my mother had hosted. All the adults spoke in polite, proper voices to one another, making small talk, and ignoring me completely. I don't know why my mother always wanted me there. Probably to show what a good job she had done raising me as a single mom. I scoffed at the thought.
"Did you have something to add, Violet?" my mother asked, turning to me.
"Oh, no sorry, I was just thinking of how delicious this dinner is," I lied, and for good measure, I took a bite of my lamb. Lamb, potatoes, and fresh salad. I'd had worse dinners.
"Yes, it really is scrumptious," my mother's boss said, patting his stomach to emphasize it. Scrumptious. Who even says that anymore? As good a job as my mother did at irritating the hell out of me, these people took the cake.
"Violet, have you decided what college you'd like to attend?" the boss's wife asked politely.
"N-"
"She'd love to go to Harvard," my mother said, cutting me off.
"Oh, Harvard," the woman said, smiling shyly, "That's a lovely school."
"Yes," I muttered, "I guess I think so, too."
My mother flashed me an angry look, but I ignored it.
They went back to talking amongst themselves while I picked at my potatoes. I'd lost my appetite.
"Oh, Violet, you got your dress dirty," my mother said lightly, laughing. Had we been alone, she would have yelled. But not in front of our guests, no, of course not.
"I guess I'm not looking very perfect anymore, am I?" I said, gritting my teeth.
Although I had momentarily forgotten about our guests, my mother had not. "Who says you had to look perfect?" she said, laughing flakily.
"You, of course. Who else pushes me to look like a frickin' doll all the time?" My voice was raising, annoyance bubbled inside of me, threatening to spill over into full-blown anger.
"Violet, that's enough."
That's when I snapped. "Yes, that's enough of your damn comments!" I yelled, standing up. The guests looked at me curiously.
"Sit down," my mother ordered.
Instead, I did something that no one could have seen coming. I scooped a handful of potatoes from the bowl in the center of the table and smeared them across my dress. "And I hate this God-damned dress!"
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