Dead Flowers | H.S.

Chapter Eight

A sea of clothing rested around my figure in the middle of the room, intriguing and intimidating me at the same time. Each color from the rainbow was littered on my bedroom floor, yet nothing had piqued my interest enough to put on for the night of dancing ahead.

I had waited for my parents to leave the house before I even pulled something out of my closet. I had told me mother that I was going to be spending the night with a friend, and she had shrugged me off, too busy pressing foundation under her eyes to listen to me.

Staring up at my mostly empty closet, I wondered if I was ever going to find anything to wear. I wanted something that Harry hadn't ever seen me in before-I wanted him to see me sexy, confident. I just didn't know if it was possible.

Then, as if struck by lightning, I saw it. The red, sequined jumpsuit hanging in the back of my closet, glowing in the yellow light of my room. I had never worn it, having got it as a gift when I was eighteen, from a friend that I didn't speak to anymore.

Although I knew I was going to wear it, it took me a moment to stand and go towards it. I was awestruck, wondering how my thighs were going to look in tight material.

Before I touched the jumpsuit, I stripped down to my underwear and stood before the long mirror beside my closet.

My stomach was pudgy towards the bottom, but my waist still had the curve of my mother's. My legs were thick, thick like pudding and they jiggled like it too. My arms were the skinniest part of me, all skin and bone and no muscle. My hands, though, my hands I knew were beautiful. They were long, thin, delicate, powerful. They were my grandmother's-it was what she had left me. Her hands.

Slowly, I took the suit off the hanger and slipped it on slowly with my back facing the mirror. When I looked down and saw that I couldn't wear a bra with my outfit, I slipped mine off and sighed with relief. My breasts were not perfectly round and they were not my favorite part of my body, but they were mine and I loved them all the same.

Reluctantly, I turned to see myself in the mirror. Immediately, all of my doubts faded. I did not look bad, not even a little bit. The ruby red color of the suit against my creamy skin showed good contrast.

I spent the next hour getting ready, curling my hair and spraying it until it stayed in place and winging my eyeliner.

At 7:54, I stared at myself in the vanity mirror, naked lips parted slightly. I was five inches taller from a pair of platform heels and voluminous hair. My breasts were ripe and peeking through the deep neck of my jumpsuit. My waist was snug, but my ankles were free because the suit flared at the bottom. My eyes were drawn like a cat's, winged and black rimmed. My usual locket was beside me, having been replaced by nakedness.

Something was missing from my look, I decided, and headed towards my parents room. I dug through my mother's vanity and found her Ruby Woo lipstick. I applied it slowly, staring at myself in the mirror. It matched my outfit perfectly.

At 7:59, I grabbed my white clutch that matched my shoes and tip toed down the stairs to the front door.

"Hot damn!"

I froze, with my red nails grazing the door knob. So close.

"You're looking fine, baby girl!" Maureen stood behind me, hands on her hips.