collarbones

03 ~ dress

She was going to wear a dress.

Annabelle tugged at the curtain of the small changing room in the shop until she was certain that nobody would be able to see her get changed. She turned to face the large mirror against the magnolia walls of the room, the spotlights beaming down on her intently.

A blue parka coat adorned her fragile frame which complimented her cream turtleneck sweater. Long locks of her chestnut hair were delicately splayed across her front and Annabelle smiled when she noticed that they were shining slightly. She then proceeded to peruse her jeans intently in the mirror, her eyes squinting under the light as she started at her ankles, and slowly she cast her eyes upwards as her legs seemed to thicken.

With a shaky sigh, she began to strip her clothes off her body until she was left in nothing but her underwear. Annabelle stood there, exposed under the beams of light, as she analysed her entire body.

She started with her upper chest.

Annabelle’s hands lifted gently as they skimmed over the ridges of ghostly bones that stuck out luminously, before they trailed down to her stomach. She pressed lightly, turning to her side as she inhaled deeply and turned sideways to the mirror.

Anna felt elation rise through her as she stared at her figure. She was skinny, desirable, feminine, and voluptuous; she was finally going to be happy and-

 She exhaled.

Everything came rushing back out in a splutter of coughs and spasms as she gasped for breath, and before she could look in the mirror any further she yanked the dress off the hanger and wedged it over her head.

Daringly, she looked back into the mirror to observe what she had become. The burgundy dress was sleeveless and had a reasonably high square neckline, enunciating her [collarbones]. The dress narrowed at the waist before flaring out to the tips of her knees, and fit her perfectly.

Annabelle yanked the tag hanging outside the dress and turned it to look at the size of the clothing. The ‘S’ stood out like a sore thumb, and a pang of disappointment shot through her, resonating through her body like seismic waves.

“It’s not enough,” she whispered to her reflection, her grey eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Anna? Are you okay?” a voice called, snapping her out of her reverie. It was her mother.

She cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Mum!” she called.

“Are you sure? How’s the dress? Do you need an extra small? I can-”

Annabelle swung the changing room door open as she interrupted her mother.

“It’s fine Mum,” she snapped. “It’s a perfect fit,” she retorted sarcastically, twirling half-heartedly.

Her mother fell into the room slightly, before standing up straight and analysing the dress. “It’s lovely, Anna!” she complimented, clapping her hands together excitedly. “I brought an extra small just in case, but this fits you perfectly so we can throw that away.” Her mother handed the dress that Anna hadn’t noticed to the store assistant who'd walked past.

Anna kept her eyes on the retreating dress as she murmured an agreement.

“Right then! I’ll let you get changed now and then we’ll go home and have some dinner,” she declared happily.

Anna closed the changing room door, her appetite gone, as she proceeded to get changed back into her normal clothes.

She didn’t look at the mirror again.