Blues

Prologue

Acknowledgement: This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual incidents, names or characters is totally coincidental. 

This book is not to be copied, translated or used in any way without my written permission. 

REMEMBER that plagiarism is punishable by law. You should get a life instead of committing such a repugnant thing. Ew. Just ew.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy the book, and I sincerely apologise for any grammatical or spelling mistakes due to hastiness or inexperience. After all, this book is unedited. 

Dedication: to every restive dreamer, who never gets accustomed. You're a champion. 

Prologue

"Blue suits you, honey." The assistant instantly exclaims the moment I ease the door of the fitting room open, his mouth spreading into a broad smile, showing the gum he's been chewing between his yellowish teeth. He crosses his arms and rests a hip against the wall, eyeing my blue figure with pure admiration before turning to my mother. Or her breasts.

My grin vanquishes the whole world as I turn around to stare at my own reflection in the wall length mirror. The blue goodness blinding my colour-matching eyes. Incidentally, my eyes catch my mother's gaze in the mirror. Her face is a mixture of affection and woefulness. Her blue eyes silently tell me just what I need to know. We can't afford the dress.

My face promptly falls. I swallow a couple of times before I manage to choke out, " I don't like it.". Even to my own ears the words sound small and unconvincing. 

My mother closes her eyes briefly before turning to face the assistant, whose eyebrows are now furrowed, and gives him the most pseudo smile, shrugging her shoulders. "Kids" she emphasises the word, followed by a dramatic eye-roll. 

I want to shout out a hurtful comeback. We both know that I'm not a kid. I was never born to be one, but I manage to keep my mouth shut. It's not her fault my once ridiculously opulent father is now dead. It's not her fault she has to work twelve hours a day to pay the bills and also, for the damage my father left behind. It's not even her fault that I'm craving a damned blue dress. 

It's all my fault. 

It will always be my fault.

I hear my mom exchanging a few words with the assistant as I change out of the dress. I can't help it when a few tears slip as I straighten the dress and hang it.

I'm taken aback when the assistant folds the dress neatly before putting it in a bag and handing it out to me. But for some reason I'm not surprised when he winks wickedly at my mother, mouthing a "ten fifteen". My mother smiles awkwardly, her eyes nervously darting between the opportunistic asshole and me. I feign ignorance and mutter a thank you before exiting the suffocating shop with my mom following behind. She sneaks an arm around my shoulder as we walk side by side. "Are you happy, Cannie?" She asks, her voice calm and distant. 

"I am, mom. Thank you"

I'm not. 

She's not, either.

It's not her fault she sleeps with strangers to buy me a fucking blue dress. 

It's all mine.

Damn me and the blues.

** this is only The Prologue. Chapter one will be released in two or three days. Don't forget to add the book to your library to get notified of the updates. Feel free to vote and comment your notes and opinions. I'm open-minded;)

Again, i apologise for any written mistakes. English isn't my native language and im still developing a decent writing style. Thank you for reading. **