My Double Life

|| 19 || Cinderella

With my last days at this life approaching, I fall into a deep pit of darkness, trapped in my room. I’m frightened to face my mother and my father has been packing his bags, but only his bags, no one else’s. It’s just bizarre that they haven’t told me where we’re moving to, or if just one of us is leaving; please don’t let it be my father. I sit by the windowsill, aching to see Ashton tonight for Prom, because that’ll probably be the last I see of him. My mother has let me go to Prom, but has not allowed to me to buy a dress or anything. She said to, and I quote, ‘wear something from your slutty wardrobe’. It’s all right, I deserve it, and I did lie to her for so many years. She’s gone through a lot.

Daydreaming, I stare vacantly out the window at a few boys teasing each other and laughing. They’re around two years younger than me, but are awfully tall and lanky. The boys look up into the window, but I don’t look away, because I’m not actually looking at them. One whispers to another, as he laughs, flustered. The boy with the red face begins to make suggestive, evocative movements towards me, whilst also winking and then holding his hand to his ear as if it’s a phone. I roll my eyes laughing. Oh boys, if anyone besides me had seen this, it would’ve been a dreadful childhood memory. Luckily, it’s only me, who used to go through that for years. My knee holding against my chest, I place my head on my knees, by body scattered with goosebumps and light freckles among my shoulders. In a black singlet and white shorts, I’m cold, although it’s warm outside. The house is cold, desolate and barren, stripping itself away from all happiness. I have skipped my first meal of the day, since my mother was downstairs, and now she’s off to work. Still in my crouched position, someone knocks on the door and I groan, not wanting to move away from my comfort zone.

“May I come in?” my dad asks, politely.

“Yeah.”

He pushes the door open with his shoulder, holding a steaming bowl of ramen in his hands. Damn it, I’m starving.

“I’ve gotten you lunch. I noticed you didn’t come down for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Dad.” I smile, getting up and taking the bowl to my desk. It’s obvious why I never go downstairs, and its not because I have no social life. I feel content once I suck in a long piece of noodle, almost instantly satiated.

“Are you here to talk about Mum? Because I don’t want to hear it.”

“No… We do need to talk about that, but at our new home.” He’s lying. It’s only my new home, not his.

“Okay, what is it then?”

“It’s your big night tonight, and I have realised that you don’t have much inside your wardrobe that’s formal, since we rarely go to weddings.”

“Yeah, so? I found a summer dress, I could just wear that.”

“A summer dress? At a formal event? Evie, oh, sorry, Misty, I am a grown man and I have a fashion declaration! You shall not wear a summer dress to a Prom!”

I laugh. “Dad! What are you thinking then?”

“I dug up something in the attic.” I glance at him, as he brings out a white box, with a layer of dust on it. My father wipes the dust off, revealing gold, italic text. It looks expensive, almost like a box meant for china.

“It’s a Prom dress, Evie’s Prom dress,” he says, a knife slicing through me.

“Evie didn’t go to Prom though, she passed away just before it.”

“I know, I know. I planned to surprise her with it, because when I went to her room there were pictures of it everywhere, and this dress was her desktop background as well. I wanted to give her something expensive for once.” And I watch my father nearly cry, his eyes glazed over with a salty layer of tears.