My mother had left first and left me in the hands of four strangers.
They strip me, bathe me, scrubbing my skin until it becomes red, and then they put in a white chiffon dress that falls just below my knees.
I look into the mirror before me, and I don’t recognise myself. My mahogany eyes, coated with light mascara stand out with the gold accents on my lids, but making my eyes abnormally large. I recognise a red Velour lipstick being used from Bonnie’s mother’s cosmetic brand that gives me a gradient, bleeding effect on my lips.
I am way too pale, and the overwhelming amount of rosy blush on me is unnatural. This prim and rosy look does not suit the darkened expression and scowl I’m holding right now.
I blow away a stray curl away from my face, and place my hands on my hip. “Are we
