The Red Dress
1255 Words
Stacy Forbes's Point Of View.
The moment I stepped inside the house, the familiar smell of alcohol hit me. I let out a tired sigh and closed my eyes for a second.
The television was still on with a random late night program while empty bottles were scattered across the coffee table, and a half eaten meal on a plate nearby. My eyes moved toward the couch, where my mother was asleep, or more accurately, passed out.
I stood there for a few moments, simply looking at her. Her hair had fallen across her face, while one of her arms hung off the side of the couch with an empty bottle.
The sight no longer surprised me, but somehow it still managed to make my chest ache every single time.
I still remembered how she used to wait up for me. She would ask about school, listen to my stories, and remember every little thing happening in my life. Now most days, she barely remembered herself.
I walked over to the couch and picked up the blanket lying on the armrest. I draped it over her sleeping form, to keep her warm.
"I am home, Mom," I whispered, my voice was quiet enough that I almost did not hear it myself. My fingers tightened against the fabric for a moment, hoping even for a second, that things could go back to the way they used to be.
Turning around, I picked up the remote and switched off the television. Then, I bent down and collected the empty bottles scattered around the room. After filling my arms with as many as I could carry, I took them to the kitchen, threw them into the garbage bin and returned for the rest.
I picked up the leftover food, wiped down the coffee table and put a few things back where they belonged.
By the time I finished, a tired yawn escaped my lips as I stretched and looked around the room.
All of a sudden, sharp pain shot through my foot. I shrieked as I stumbled backward, lost my balance and fell hard on the floor.
As the blood stained the floor beneath me, my eyes moved on the broken glass scattered near the couch. One of the bottles must have shattered earlier, and in my exhaustion, I had completely missed it. Now A sharp piece of glass was stuck in the bottom of my foot.
Before I knew it, tears had filled my eyes. It was not because of the pain or even the blood. I was just tired, so unbelievably tired of cleaning the bottles, tired of worrying about money, tired of studying late, and tired of pretending everything was okay when it wasn't.
It felt like everything I had been holding inside for months suddenly came crashing down on me all at once.
"Mom," I whispered while tears slipped down my cheeks uncontrollably. My hands trembled as I turned toward the couch and looked at her sleeping figure. "Mom, it hurts."
I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, a broken sob escaped my lips. That single sob quickly turned into another, and then another. Before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably. I tried to stop, tried to take a deep breath, but it only made me cry harder.
After half an hour, I wiped my face roughly with the back of my hand, took a shaky breath, and forced myself to stand.
I carefully pulled the piece of glass out of my foot and limped toward my room. I took the small medical kit out from the bottom drawer of my desk.
I tried to clean the wound as best as I could, applied some antiseptic cream, and wrapped a bandage around my foot. I let out a tired breath and collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
I was seconds away from falling asleep when my phone vibrated beside me. Frowning slightly, I reached for it and unlocked the screen. The moment I saw the sender's name, my heart did a small ridiculous dance.
I sat up straight on the bed and opened the message. It contained an address, and beneath it was another text.
Justin : Don't even think about backing out. See you there :)
A small smile appeared on my face as I reread Damian's message again, then again and then one more time.
I jumped off the bed and did a small, ridiculous happy dance in the middle of my room with injured leg. The smile on my face seemed to grow a little bigger as I flopped back onto the bed and stared at the message once more.
Maybe Justin liked me too. Why else would he sit with me in the library, ask me to tutor him, and personally invite me to a party? The more I thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense.
The thought made me smile into my pillow. I was already imagining different conversations between us at the party and completely embarrassing myself in my own imagination.
Wait, what was I supposed to wear?
I immediately looked toward the old dresser standing in the corner of my room and got out of bed. Walking over to it, I opened the drawers and started looking through my clothes.
Unfortunately, there was not much to choose from. Most of my wardrobe consisted of school uniforms, oversized hoodies, old sweaters, and a few pairs of jeans. I pulled out a couple of outfits and stared at them before sighing. None of them looked like something a person would wear to a party.
As I continued searching through my clothes for a few more moments, my fingers suddenly brushed against a soft piece of fabric buried beneath everything else.
Curious, I pulled it out and froze. It was a red dress. I had bought it almost two years ago with money I earned from tutoring younger students. Back then, I had planned to wear it for my birthday dinner but the dinner never happened, and since then, the dress had remained forgotten inside the drawer.
Gently, I ran my fingers over the fabric and smiled sadly. Maybe tonight was finally its turn. Holding the dress carefully, I walked toward the mirror and held it up against myself.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I felt excitement bubbling inside me.
I glanced at the clock, grabbed a towel and hurried toward the bathroom. I turned on the shower and hummed softly under my breath.
Later, I returned to my room and slipped into the red dress. Standing in front of the mirror, I smoothed my hands over the dress and could not stop the smile that appeared on my face.
Next I keep my hair tied up in a simple ponytail, but for tonight, I dried it carefully and left it down, letting the soft waves fall over my shoulders. I spent several minutes brushing it until it looked neat.
For a makeup, I applied a little concealer beneath my eyes, a light layer of foundation and a touch of blush. At last, I applied the red lipstick and slipped on a pair of red heels. The moment, I finished, I stared at my reflection. I almost did not recognize myself. I looked prettier.
Standing in front of the mirror, I turned slightly from side to side, studying my reflection. A nervous smile appeared on my face.
Tonight was the night, I was finally going to tell Justin how I felt.
- Writer
