Chapter Six

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"And clothes!"

"And jewels!"

"And a gorgeous prince!"

They laughed and squealed, holding each others hands and spinning in circles. Emilie and Leslie seemed to be esctatic about my being selected but I wasn't. I was terrified. I felt sick to my stomach and every night sicnce I found out I was unable to sleep. It was like I became famous overnight. Everyone in Carolina knew who I was. I couldn't walk down the streets without someone stopping me, saying hello, or asking for an autograph.

I've barely left my house. The people from the palace just left my home and i felt so violated. The questions they asked were so invasive and inappropriate. I felt as if I was I was on display for everyone to examine and probe.

Emilie and Leslie spun in circles in my bedroom and I had a suitcase on my bed. It was small, not containing much. Just certain things I couldn't part with like my journal, a few books, clothing, and some keepsakes. Simple things like that.

My father was elated so I tried to keep my feelings to myself. I didn't want to dampen his mood. He was so proud, bragging to anyone that would hear which was aparently everyone.

"You look like a pair of dancing monkeys" I said closing my closet. "Cut it out"

Leslie out of breath still laughing said, "Lighten up"

It was hard to lighten up in such a depressing bedroom. I had one very small closet, a bed, and on dresser. The bed sheets were white and the walls were covered in a fading, peeling, pink wall paper.

"If you don't want to go," Emilie smiled. "I'll take your place, Allie."

I made a face at her and put some shirts in my suitcase. "No."

Leslie jumped onto my bed.

"Lez!"

"You should be excited" she raised an eyebrow. "Not a sour prune"

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "I don't want to go."

"But why?" Em asked.

"Because I don't"

"But why don't you?" she pushed. "There has to be a valid reason."

"Oh, I don't know, Em!" I snapped. "Maybe because dating a boy 35 other girls are dating and then having to change yourself to his liking is quite the barbaric custom, don't you think?"

Leslie pursed her lips. "Its not like that"

I sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my locket. "Maybe it is"

Leslie crawled over my head to wrap her arm around my shoulders and Emilie looked around my room. Emilie made her way over to my dresser and picked up the only picture frame i had on it. She looked at me.

"Aren't you going to take it with you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Just throw it out"

"Allie" Leslie said, softly.

I tilted my head and looked at the picture frame. Inside was the photo of a woman with olive skin, dark brown eyes, black hair, and perfect features. It was the only photo I had of my mother. That picture is probably the only reason why I even know what she looks like. Before Aymar, my mother, married daddy she was the wealthy daughter of a police officer. Then she met daddy, they fall in love, got married in secret, and she became a six.

Aymar left before I could even remember the look of her face. I had just turned four.

I barely remember much. I remember faintly the sound of voice when she sang me to sleep, her smile, her laugh, the way she always smelled like vanillas, things like that. I don't know why she left. Daddy doesn't like talking about it. He says I look like her sometimes but mostly everyone says I inherited their best features. Daddy's green eyes, brown locks, and kind heart. Aymar's features like her full lips, her cheekbones, even the curves of her body are like my own.

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