Hey guys, I decided to start a second story even though my first one only has one chapter, cause' I thought this would be more fun to write. Lol. Also, I will be putting on either an extra chapter for each story soon, or else another fanfic, this time as Gloria Lo in Harry Potter. So keep your eyes on the lookout.
"What, the HELL is that?"
Not really words you'd associate with the reaping, but those were the first words I said after seeing the dress I was going to wear. Ok, it's not the pink frilly thing my sister was screeching her head off about, but she wears dresses EVERY DAY. My norm is a pair of mottled leggings and a sleeveless black jerkin, topped off by a pair of black, knee high boots and an old leather cape that's still wearable. And that's when I take care about how I look. However, my mother wanted me to throw away all of my hard won respect and dignity, and prance out of the house wearing THAT!
"Come on Mishell, (pronounced Michelle), it's not that bad." My mother wheedled. "I wore it before the rebellion." Yeah, but that was 12 years ago. "And you'll look lovely; you have a far finer figure (A/N haha, get the alliteration?) than me." So? You know I've already rejected 5 marriage proposals for when I turn 21, and I'm only 16. I don't need more boys chasing after me. "And you might get Tessa to stop fussing over herself." My mum is terrible at thinking up arguments. You can feel them getting weaker by the second. "And you can…you can…have fun?" My mother trails off weakly. "Fine," she says in her superior tone, "if you won't wear some, I'll make you."
Brandishing the stick in my face, my mother proceeded to chase my around the house in futile attempts to apply makeup. In the end, with the help of my two older brothers and my younger sister, she managed to capture me and apply the gloss and eye makeup to my cringing face, before pouring me into the white lace dress she had chosen.
"I look hideous." I said it in the flat, monotonous tone that told my mother I was not joking. Ok, maybe not hideous, you had to admit my mother had retained some of her old skill in applying makeup, but the dress? I've looked better. While I'm no fashion freak, I knew for a fact that last year's pink silk dress had accentuated my delicate features better, (I'm not boasting of course) and the blush coloured dress I had worn to the reaping of the 10th Hunger Games was definitely more my colour. However, there was no arguing with my mother. Clutching the black wool coat around my shivering shoulders, I stepped out the door and joined the crowd thronging towards the Town Centre.
Well, what do you guys think? Please Please Please review, I don't care about what you have to say, please just tell me what you thought.
luvponys100 a.k.a Violet Manhattan a.k.a Mishell Cunningham a.k.a Gloria Lo