*Okay, this story will probably eventually cut off, because I am planning
to connect it with another one of my stories . . . then again, I may keep
it going and just have the same course of events happening from two
different points of view. Anyhow, that is a long time away, so . . .
enjoy:
Two golden locks, hung loosely, framing her fair and pretty face. Half of the rest was up, while the remainder of it, rested loftily around her shoulders. Pink lip gloss decorated her lips, along with a light breeze of pink eyeshadow. She dressed herself in a blue and green plaid skirt and a white, button up, fitted shirt. Carefully, she put on a little mascara. Black designer shoes accompanied the rest of her outfit. Tossing some lipstick into her purse, she grabbed it and left her room. "Mom, I'm ready to go," she called out to the mansion that surrounded her. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, even in her own home, she shuffled over to the chair that sat near the stairs. Listening for any noise to pierce the silence, she soon jolted upright, hearing her mother's high heels banging against the marble floors.
"Alright," her mother said in a lofty voice, straightening her blouse. "Katie, dear, you should really do something with your hair," her mother spouted out, toying with the curls, surrounding her daughter's face.
Getting a very insecure look on her face, she folded her arms and looked down at the floor. Awkwardly she said, "Mom, I did. This was how I was going to wear it today."
"Oh," her mother said dryly. "Well, that's fine if it's how you want to wear it. You should do what you like," her mother added sweetly. "I mean, what do I know, anyway? I was only a model for seven years. I only won 24 beauty pagents in my life. Now, I'm just a fashion designer of all the latest styles. It doesn't matter that my clothing designs are acclaimed world wide and pay for most of this," she said emphatically, throwing out a hand to imply the house they lived in.
"Mom," she said softly, feeling exceedingly embarrassed. Her mother gave her a look that was both pleading and demanding. "How do you think I should style it?" She said hopefully, looking up at her mother.
A wide, passionate smile crossed her mother's face. "Katie, that's a great idea! I'll be able to do something with it." Her mother sat her down on a chair in their large bathroom and began working on her hair. Violently, she tugged a brush through her daughter's long blonde hair. Bobby pins, curlers, styling gell, hair spray- soon, she finished with a very pleased and sadistic smile spreading across her face.
"Oh," Kate said, in a defeated kind of voice. Her hair looked beautiful. "That's great." She stood up, quickly grabbed her purse. They were already late.
"That's what you're wearing?"
"Yeah, mom. Look, there's no time to change now anyway, I'm late for school. We need to go."
"Katie, what did I tell you about appearance?"
Sighing Kate said, "That it's the most important thing after money."
"Right. Good girl. Now, that outfit is awful. The way you look not only effects the way people treat you, but it reflects me, as a mother and a popular designer. We need to go shopping and get you some new clothes. Here," she said, walking to her own closet, "why don't you wear this today?" She handed her daughter a tight black dress, with straps that criss crossed on the sides, and a few scattered pink flowers. Kate changed without question, into the dress. "You know," her mother went on accusingly, "we could get you much cuter clothes if you'd loose a little weight. I mean, Katie, you could go a lot thinner. When I was your age, I was a size three. You're almost a seven! I really think you should go on a serious diet, and hit the gym a few more times a week. Oh! Maybe we could get you a personal trainer. Wouldn't that be nice?" Her mother's voice was growing higher pitched, and more sickly sweet, by the moment.
"Yeah. Okay, mom," Kate said softly. "Can we please go now?"
"I suppose." They walked out to the car. It was a beautiful red Porshe convertable. They drove, without speaking. The only sound was the very soft rumble of the engine and the radio blasting out the latest in pop music. Kate was staring out her window, reproachfully. Her mother smiled all the way to school. As they pulled up to the drop off section, her mother turned and said, "Aren't you glad your car broke down? If only I could take you to school more often. This was so much fun, wasn't it?"
"Yeah mom," Kate said, unconvincingly. "Bye."
Two golden locks, hung loosely, framing her fair and pretty face. Half of the rest was up, while the remainder of it, rested loftily around her shoulders. Pink lip gloss decorated her lips, along with a light breeze of pink eyeshadow. She dressed herself in a blue and green plaid skirt and a white, button up, fitted shirt. Carefully, she put on a little mascara. Black designer shoes accompanied the rest of her outfit. Tossing some lipstick into her purse, she grabbed it and left her room. "Mom, I'm ready to go," she called out to the mansion that surrounded her. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, even in her own home, she shuffled over to the chair that sat near the stairs. Listening for any noise to pierce the silence, she soon jolted upright, hearing her mother's high heels banging against the marble floors.
"Alright," her mother said in a lofty voice, straightening her blouse. "Katie, dear, you should really do something with your hair," her mother spouted out, toying with the curls, surrounding her daughter's face.
Getting a very insecure look on her face, she folded her arms and looked down at the floor. Awkwardly she said, "Mom, I did. This was how I was going to wear it today."
"Oh," her mother said dryly. "Well, that's fine if it's how you want to wear it. You should do what you like," her mother added sweetly. "I mean, what do I know, anyway? I was only a model for seven years. I only won 24 beauty pagents in my life. Now, I'm just a fashion designer of all the latest styles. It doesn't matter that my clothing designs are acclaimed world wide and pay for most of this," she said emphatically, throwing out a hand to imply the house they lived in.
"Mom," she said softly, feeling exceedingly embarrassed. Her mother gave her a look that was both pleading and demanding. "How do you think I should style it?" She said hopefully, looking up at her mother.
A wide, passionate smile crossed her mother's face. "Katie, that's a great idea! I'll be able to do something with it." Her mother sat her down on a chair in their large bathroom and began working on her hair. Violently, she tugged a brush through her daughter's long blonde hair. Bobby pins, curlers, styling gell, hair spray- soon, she finished with a very pleased and sadistic smile spreading across her face.
"Oh," Kate said, in a defeated kind of voice. Her hair looked beautiful. "That's great." She stood up, quickly grabbed her purse. They were already late.
"That's what you're wearing?"
"Yeah, mom. Look, there's no time to change now anyway, I'm late for school. We need to go."
"Katie, what did I tell you about appearance?"
Sighing Kate said, "That it's the most important thing after money."
"Right. Good girl. Now, that outfit is awful. The way you look not only effects the way people treat you, but it reflects me, as a mother and a popular designer. We need to go shopping and get you some new clothes. Here," she said, walking to her own closet, "why don't you wear this today?" She handed her daughter a tight black dress, with straps that criss crossed on the sides, and a few scattered pink flowers. Kate changed without question, into the dress. "You know," her mother went on accusingly, "we could get you much cuter clothes if you'd loose a little weight. I mean, Katie, you could go a lot thinner. When I was your age, I was a size three. You're almost a seven! I really think you should go on a serious diet, and hit the gym a few more times a week. Oh! Maybe we could get you a personal trainer. Wouldn't that be nice?" Her mother's voice was growing higher pitched, and more sickly sweet, by the moment.
"Yeah. Okay, mom," Kate said softly. "Can we please go now?"
"I suppose." They walked out to the car. It was a beautiful red Porshe convertable. They drove, without speaking. The only sound was the very soft rumble of the engine and the radio blasting out the latest in pop music. Kate was staring out her window, reproachfully. Her mother smiled all the way to school. As they pulled up to the drop off section, her mother turned and said, "Aren't you glad your car broke down? If only I could take you to school more often. This was so much fun, wasn't it?"
"Yeah mom," Kate said, unconvincingly. "Bye."